Downs, Jana - Ravyn's Destiny [Ravyn Warriors 3] (Siren Publishing Allure ManLove) (3 page)

“Maybe the vampires can help,” Dageus suggested after a pregnant pause. “They’re some of the most powerful creatures in this realm, and they bind creatures, sometimes whole clans, to them on a regular basis. Perhaps Alex or Santiago would have a suggestion.”

“Yeah! What about that?” Ally seconded enthusiastically.

Salvatore shrugged delicately. “If you think they will have suggestions. This magick is rather complex and—”

“
Score
!” Ally shouted, interrupting his cautionary disclaimer. “Does that mean, if we can do this, they’ll join the Ravyns?” He was like a puppy with a bone.

Salvatore chuckled. “Yes, Allasandro. That’s what that means.”

“Hell yes!” Dageus echoed Ally’s enthusiasm, high-fiving the other Ravyn as they congratulated one another on their brilliant idea that had swayed the Prince.

“We’ve got to celebrate,” Ger piped up. The quietest of the bunch rarely spoke, so he must’ve been quite excited about the prospect as well.

“An excellent suggestion,” Tony approved. This was also unusual. Tony
hated
taking Salvatore out. “A little celebration is in order, for sure.”

Just then there was a knock on the door, and Druas let himself in. “Hey, guys, how’d it go?” He glanced at the other Ravyns’ smiling faces and gave a whoop of laughter. “Hell yes! Celebrate?”

“You read my mind, bro,” Ally drawled. He was beaming. “Daylight?” he asked, referring to Alexander’s club.

“Daylight!” The others echoed. Salvatore stared at the group helplessly. For once he didn’t feel like going out. It looked like he would be keeping his word to his concubines after all…

Chapter Three

The Ravyns were in especially jovial moods tonight. Even the normally stoic Tony was smiling softly as they piled out of the SUV and shuffled toward the VIP line in the side alley that ran beside the club. It was always a short line. As soon as the vampire bouncers saw Alex’s husband, Dageus, standing in line, they ushered them all forward past disappointed faces and a few scowls. When the Master vampire’s spouse showed up, everyone lost their place in line. It was a nice perk.

Damian, his Ravyn Allasandro’s fiancé, flashed into existence beside them as they filed into the door. He backed his lover up into the pitch-black corner, and they disappeared from view for a few hot seconds.

“Oh, for the love of the gods,” Tony grumbled. He opened his mouth to deliver a scathing remark, but Salvatore silenced him.

“Enough. Leave them be. The club is safe. Grab your beer and a table, and I’ll join you in a bit.” The Demon Prince walked steadily toward the bar where he knew his bartender would be working tonight. The fact that he knew his schedule and beelined for him every time they hit the club would’ve probably been considered stalking in multiple states, but he just couldn’t help himself. He was never too forward or obvious about it and always extremely polite and respectful. He didn’t know how else to be.

“Salvatore.” His younger cousin, Theron, grabbed his arm, his gaze darting around wildly. He was the newest addition to his band of merry men and still wasn’t used to their life on Earth. “Is it safe to be wandering about by yourself?”

Salvatore petted his arm soothingly. “Of course. Daylight is the safest place in the city outside Alex’s house. I promise. If there was any danger, my Ravyns wouldn’t let either of us out of their sight.” He gestured to the table where his Ravyns were seated, loudly talking with one another as they passed around a pitcher of beer. “Go sit with them and try and relax. You’ll feel safer among them.” He didn’t know why Theron had agreed to come out with him. The younger demon didn’t really seem like the type to hit the club on a nightly basis. He was pretty reserved for royalty.

He sidled up to the bar and smiled when the bartender of his dreams immediately came to him. His black hair was done up in fashionable spikes tonight, making him look impish. His wide white smile was framed with kissable lips which had two metal hoops off-center on his bottom one. His brow was pierced as well, along with his ears and, because Salvatore had stared enough to notice, pierced nipples that showed faintly through his tight Ed Hardy muscle shirt. Tattoos of trees decorated his arms, one tree in the thick of summer, full of greenery and scattered wildlife, and the other in the last vestiges of fall with bright orange, yellow, and brown leaves falling around it. Crows sat among the branches of that tree. Six of them to be precise. It had amused Salvatore when he’d first seen it. The roots of both trees traveled down his arms, forearms, and circled around his wrists.

His body was thin but graceful, and he stood almost a foot shorter than most of his Ravyns, topping five five at most. What muscle he did have was ripped and tight. When he bent over behind the bar, Salvatore often had a hard time not salivating. His ensemble tonight ended in tight, aged, designer jeans that were frayed in strategic places. He was breathtaking.

“Hiya, good lookin’,” the bartender drawled. In their conversations, Salvatore had learned that the accent was one of America’s southern region’s dialects. His bartender was apparently from Georgia. Wherever that was.

“Hi,” Salvatore greeted, leaning forward in his seat.

“What can I getcha?” he asked. “Your usual?”

“Actually, I’d like something sweeter, if you please. A Jack and Coke isn’t what I’m wanting.” Salvatore switched up his drink choice just to get him talking. He loved listening to him talk. His punk rock sex god was impossible not to stare at, but when he talked, he was positively…what was the word Ally used all the time? Fuckable. That was it. He was positively fuckable. His eyes drifted down the other man’s lean frame of their own volition.

“Last time I checked, darlin’, the drink menu was not in my jeans.” The bartender laughed at him. Salvatore had the gall to wonder if that was a viable drinking option. He would definitely not mind taking whatever fluid he could get off of the bartender’s tight body. He noticed the sudden bulge in the bartender’s jeans as he continued to stare. “Stop thinking about getting me naked,” he murmured softly.

Salvatore blushed. Gods, had he really been staring so rudely at the man? Sometimes he wondered about himself.

“How about some Dragon Berry punch?” the bartender asked suddenly, changing the conversation.

“What’s in it?” Salvatore asked, grateful for the change in topic.

“It’s pretty simple. It has Dragon Berry rum and cranberry juice. It’s a really sweet drink. Goes down pretty smooth and has a great taste.”

Salvatore nodded. “Sounds great.”

A few minutes later his bartender sat his drink on a napkin in front of him and went to check on the rest of his customers. The club wasn’t busy yet because it was still early, nine o’clock. In another two hours Salvatore would lose his chance to confront his bartender because the place would be slammed. He took a sip of his drink.

“How is it?” His bartender had returned.

Salvatore nodded. “Not bad.” He paused. “Tell me your name.”

The bartender smiled cheekily. “I think not, darlin’. It’s sexier when it’s mysterious. You know?”

The Demon Prince shook his head and asked again. “Please, just tell me your name.”

The smile faded to be replaced by a frown. “What do you want it to be? Boyfriend? Lover?” So he had been aware that Salvatore had been interested. The minx.

“I want you to be called my destiny,” Salvatore said formally. He instantly wanted to kick himself. He sounded like a love-besotted idiot. Oh wait…he
was
a love besotted idiot.

“All right. Destiny it is then. Call me Destin for short.”

Salvatore let out an inhuman growl that had the humans close to him scooting back from the bar. His Destiny held his ground.

“You need to settle down,” the bartender said bravely.

Salvatore felt instant embarrassment. He blushed. “I’m sorry. I…” He sighed. “I’ll be right back.” He scooted back from the bar and went toward the booth where the guys he’d come in with waited for him.

* * * *

Destin noticed that the vampires who worked as bouncers followed him closely with their ever-vigilant gazes. It was odd. The persistent beauty didn’t feel vampire or shifter, but he definitely felt “other.” As the King of Faery, Destin should’ve been able to tell what, but the identity eluded him. It was one of the reasons that he’d avoided giving Salvatore his name on multiple occasions. There were certain creatures which could use a name like his to command him to do their bidding. No matter how horrible or against his morals.

He absently picked up a glass and started cleaning it. It was already dry, but the constant motion with his hands helped his nerves. Destin had always been hyperaware of the emotions of the handsome, red-eyed man who practically stalked him at Daylight. Tonight he’d been experiencing nervousness, tenderness, and no small amount of lust. It was a potent, sexy mix.

If he were at home, Destin would’ve taken Salvatore into his bed and let the beauty fuck him until neither of them could move the next day. But he wasn’t at home and Salvatore wasn’t Fae, and fucking him was sure as hell not safe. He couldn’t afford to lose his heart to an Earthbound creature that wouldn’t be able to come and go from Underhill as Destin did.

People who came to Faery couldn’t leave Faery, and in time they grew to resent the person who took them there to begin with. His ex-Consort Terren had been a prime example. The kindest thing he had done was infect him with the shifter’s curse, lycanthropy, and erase his memory, and set him back on Earth. He still came into the bar with pack members upon occasion, and Destin would watch him from afar, grateful to know that, despite being separated from him and unaware that they shared a history, Terren would retain his near immortality and was seemingly perfectly content in his new life.

Yes. It was good that he kept Salvatore at arm’s length because Destin knew how easy it would be to fall for a great guy like him. He was handsome, charming, and polite. The near-loss of his temper a moment ago was unusual and showed the depth of his feelings more than anything else. He didn’t just want Destin for a night or even one date. He wanted to take and possess and cherish the Fae King like no other had done before him. The temptation was almost unbearable.

“Are you well, my lord?” The voice that sounded barely intelligible over its hissing quality sounded to his right. He glanced up to see one of his personal bodyguards hovering a foot off the ground. They called his guards “shadows” for a reason. They were invisible to everyone but him and his King-Consort. They were wraiths, bound to him by a royal decree by his mother, the Fae Queen Amarillo, who ruled the land of light and laughter, the realm of Faery which existed in a layer of the Earth realm.

He was the King of Underhill, the Summer Court. The realm that existed before Earth was even formed. It was an old kingdom and one that was a rough-and-tumble place because of the primitive magicks that fueled it. His mother had left eons ago for finer, more delicate realms. But when Destin had come of age, he’d returned to it and taken his own Court with him, and he’d ruled there ever since.

“I’m doing fine. Clearly,” he reassured the shadow. The other guard, Naut, was out there in the crowd somewhere but stayed hidden. “I’m fixing to go on my fifteen-minute break.”

“Are you feeding well, my lord?” the shadow pressed. “You’re looking a little pale and shaken. Shall we fetch you a particularly strong-feeling human to satisfy you? Naut noticed a young man whose wife left him a little earlier. I’m sure he’d be an excellent food source if you would like the flavor of sadness. I also saw a girl who has just graduated from some human school who is feeling joy particularly strong. Lust isn’t a hard emotion to scare up around here, either,” he added slyly. “Especially if you would happen to feed on that young man who was sitting here earlier. You know the one I mean. The pretty, red-haired one.”

Destin shook his head. “That would be a bad idea, and stop prying. It isn’t polite. That pretty, red-haired man needs to stay away from me, and I from him. He’s the last thing I…” He paused because he was going to say “want” but, like the legends said, his kind couldn’t lie. “He’s a complication that I don’t need right now.”