Shadowglass (11 page)

10

I
ce? Are you . . . Is everything okay?”

So improbable that for several seconds I refused to recognize that velvet-steel voice.

So riveting, my heart clogged in my chest, thick and silent.

So fucking typical, I had to laugh, my forehead still smearing the glass.

Bleeding, crying, half drunk, and terrified. Could I possibly be any more unattractive? . . . Hang on. . . . Nope. Don’t think so.

Not that I cared, of course. I’m over him, remember? I sighed. “Yeah, I’m just great, Indigo. Thanks for asking.”

“My pleasure.” His voice dripped over me like a molten shower, and his iron-drenched shadow swallowed me, teasing dark shivers from my skin. I swallowed, edgy. I forget how big he is, not just taller than me but also solid and unfragile, like a fairy rarely is. Indestructible. An uneasy metalfae anomaly.

I craned my neck sideways. There he stood, shoulder leaning lightly on the glass, his reflection a dark blue shimmer in a halo of silver. His glamour flickered, a neon-lit ghost, and for an instant, I glimpsed his overlay, bland, unassuming, smaller and plainer than he really is, his rich cobalt tones blanched to ordinary chocolate human skin, his blue-black hair muted.
Look away
, whispered his glamour,
don’t see me
, and for a moment my gaze obeyed and slid lazily off him like oil. I blinked, and the effect dissolved.

Awkwardness crunched in my mouth like popcorn.
Why does he do that? Fairies don’t glamour-whip fairies. It’s not fair.

I sniffed, sticky. God, he was such a show-off in those clothes. Anyone else might look a bit girly in slashed-off sleeves and metal jewelry, but there was nothing girly about Indigo. Not even with those perfect lips that looked carved from silver. Inky skin, bare arms strong and light, rainbow titanium bracelet wrapping his left forearm, steel-gray shirt just tight enough to show me curves I’d dreamed about licking. Straight muscle-hugging jeans—god, that fairy’s thighs could kill you. And those wings, sharp like silvery glass and as dangerous.

He said nothing. Just stood there and smelled good, warm steel and fire.

Sure. I was over him, all right.

I turned my face away, sick. He already thought me just a silly girl. Now I looked like a whore, covered in blood and bruises and stinking of some other guy’s spit. He’d never take me seriously. “What you want?”

“Now, or ten seconds ago before I saw you crying?”

Like I wanted to discuss it with anyone, let alone him. If he wanted to brush me off, fine. I wouldn’t share with him now.

I tried to wipe my nose, but only smeared snot everywhere, and in exasperation I pushed away from the glass to face him. “It’s nothing, okay?”

“Nothing doesn’t usually bleed all over your dress.” His gaze flicked to the mess on my throat, followed the bloodstain downward, and lingered.

I swallowed, my hand fluttering to my chest. That wasn’t just sympathy in his expression. Was it? “Don’t, okay? It’s nothing.”

He licked silvery lips. “Mmm. I was just wondering . . . has everything been okay for you lately?”

“Indigo, I’m fine. I told you.”

“Right. So nothing weird’s happened?”

“Of course not.” Suspicion tickled my palms. Did he know something?

He eyed me coolly, close even from a million miles away. “You sure? Nothing like . . . Oh, I don’t know. Voices in your head? Bad moods? Crazy impulses?”

My guts heated. How did he know? “No, I told you! Don’t be ridiculous. Why d’ya keep asking me?”

“Because I have something that belongs to you.” He leaned closer, warm and enticing, and unfolded long three-jointed fingers. A string of silver-set diamonds coiled in his dark palm.

I gasped. My pulse swelled, thumping in my chest, and a happy little ache flowered in my belly.

I’d thought I’d lost some pretties at Kane’s, but I’d been too sheepish to tell the others when we needed the money so bad. Now I might get to keep them for once. My mouth watered. Sparkle, sparkle. Mmm. I wanted to squirm, to press my legs together.

I stretched out a greedy hand. “Never seen it before.”

“You sure?” He trailed the bracelet over my fingers, tempting me. The jewels burned hot, and they glinted green like emeralds in smoky neon.

“Uh-huh.” I grabbed, but he twitched the shinies away, and I overbalanced, fluttering to keep upright.

He clicked his tongue, metallic. “Not so fast, Ice. Questions first.”

The tiny lisp my name made in his mouth made me quiver. I stared, transfixed by the glitter, and shifted itching wings. “Where’d you get that?”

He sniffed the jewels lightly and flashed me a teasing glimpse of silver teeth. “Nice try. But you know where I got it.”

Great. Now he really thought I was a whore. I sighed, and gave up. “This is about that rusty ball of Kane’s, isn’t it?”

“Clever girl.” He slithered my bracelet casually around his nimble fingers.

My eyeballs swiveled to follow it. Prick. He knew my weakness. I tore my gaze away and lifted my chin, dignified. “Well, you can’t have it. It’s gone. I gave it away.”

Static crackled across his knuckles like fireworks, and his steely irises glowed molten. “You what?”

“I—I got rid of it. It’s nasty. It . . . talks to me, or someth—”

“Where is it, Ice? Tell me.” His voice cracked like rusted roof iron, and he wrapped hot fingers around my wrist and pulled me closer.

God, he smelled even better close up. His hip brushed my belly, those hard thighs so close to mine, and I flushed, trying to keep my mind on the issues. I couldn’t tell him, could I? He’d only go and take it and I’d be screwed. “Why? Whadda you care?”

“I care. So should you. It’s Kane’s mirror. He wants it back.”

“Shoulda taken better care of it, then.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said to him. It’s your own fault, dickhead, get your own fucking mirror back.”

“Really?” Admiration breathed on my skin for his courage.

“No, of course not really. Just tell me where it is.” Glowing metal rippled white in his eyes. His fingers tightened, and my bones grated together.

“Ow! Will you get off me? Not telling if you’re gonna be nasty.” Pain flared, but my disappointment hurt worse. I wriggled, dismay slithering in my guts like a snake. I’d thought better of him than this.
Tell me he’s not like all the rest. Tell me he isn’t going to hit me.

But he shivered like I’d tickled him, blinked curiously at me, and let me go, hiding his hand swiftly behind his back. His eyes shone clear and cobalt, sorrowful. “I’m sorry, Lady Ice. I didn’t mean it. Forgive me?” And he knelt at my feet like some weird blue angel, steely black hair sifting over his forehead, neon shimmering silver and green on his wings.

I laughed, disturbed. “Hey, don’t get all weird on m—”

He pressed burning silver lips to the inside of my wrist.

“Oh. Gosh.” His kiss scorched me like sunburn, but I didn’t care. My pulse danced against his tongue, and though my wrist still cried out where he’d crushed me, the pain dissolved into seductive glory. His lips teased my skin, caressed me, drew my pulse quicker. His tongue stroked me, delicate and fresh, until my sex ached with anticipation. I wanted him to do that forever, to slide his mouth up the inside of my arm, kiss the crook of my elbow, my shoulder, my collarbone. Wrap that clever tongue on my breasts, around my wing joints, between my legs.

He finished with one last sensual lick, and when he pulled away, I whimpered, bereft, that spot on my wrist suddenly chilled. But a tiny stripe of heat still seared my skin, and when I looked down, diamonds glittered back at me from cooling silver. He’d melted the bracelet around my wrist.

Cautiously I fingered the warm gemstones. They sparkled back at me, and the ache in my belly sharpened. My very own diamonds. Imagine that.

He gazed up at me, intent, and though his eyes still burned bright, new softness glowed inside. Like he’d suddenly been struck by this amazing new idea to be nice to me for a change.

Goofy affection swelled my heart, and I sat on it firmly. I didn’t get him: rude, sweet, frost, hellfire, inconstant like oil on a pond. Like there were two of him, constantly changing places to confuse me. Like I was a game he invented to amuse himself.

I sniffed, pretending I wasn’t still shivering all over from his kiss. “Like that’s supposed to make it better.”

He fluttered to his feet, warm glittery breeze ruffling my hair. “No? What kind of apology will you accept, then?”

Anger prickled my skin. So he assumed I’d forgive him for nearly tearing my arm off, did he? Not to mention acting like such an asshole every time we met. I opened my mouth to give him a stinging retort.

But he leaned over to whisper into my ear, his hair springing on my cheek, and my breath reduced to a remnant, dissolved in his heady molten scent. I swear his body shook, so tense those scant few inches away. “I’m sorry, Ice. I haven’t been myself for a long time. I’m scared . . . God, I’m terrified I’ve given you the wrong impression. Can you forgive me? If I’m sweet for you from now on?”

Confusion addled my senses. His body heat condensed on my lips. I licked tempting copper, drunk. I’d never known him to be like this. On edge, yes, but not nervous. Not vulnerable.

My heart melted. I wanted to hold him, stroke him, quench his trouble in my arms. I wanted to kiss him until we both ached. I wanted to throw him off me and run, and I knew my old boring self would flee, make some excuse, some foolish mistake that let me off the hook, avoiding decision and danger.

Screw that.

Daring, I tilted my face a fraction toward his. “Umm . . . What kind of sweet do ya have in mind?”

“Whatever you like.” He twined smooth fingers between my knuckles and squeezed, and his hot iron breath flowed over my wounded neck in a rush. “You smell so fresh.”

Surprise and guilty pleasure stiffened my spine. His sharp claws stung the back of my hand, but I almost didn’t notice in the lost delight of his touch. His bangle zapped me, static creeping up my arm. My left arm. Funny. Could have sworn he wore that on his left wrist. Pay attention.

His cheekbone slicked on mine, and stayed there. I bit my lip to stifle a gasp, and words it seemed I’d always wanted to say flooded my mouth like glorious faestruck wine. “I love it when you touch me.”

He rubbed that glorious metal-spun hair on my cheek, and I felt every steely strand. “Mirror, Ice. It’s for your own good. Tell me and we can get on with this.”

Still inches of air between us. Still only his hand crushing mine. Imagine if he actually touched me, if his body slid on mine. Unbelievable. He never looked at me right, never touched me, never tempted me like this. My heart quivered, afraid, and I realized that part of the reason I persisted with him was that I knew he’d never say yes. I never thought I’d have to face the consequences. But now . . .

Desire shuddered my muscles, overheating me. Deep inside my skull a warm alien whisper dared me to take my chance, just this once, and though I hated the scaly serpent sound of that voice, I couldn’t resist.

I tilted my head back, and hot water trickled down my neck and between my breasts, soaking my dress again. Waterfae, dripping and disheveled with desire like a beach model. I knew it looked hot. I stretched, tempting him. “Kiss me and I’ll tell you.”

“Tell me and I’ll kiss you.” He drifted closer, and I closed my eyes, breathless. Static crackled over my nipples, shivered in my hair, tingled my skin. The metal studs on my dress zapped and clicked onto him. My belly ring yanked toward him, pulling my skin taut, and I wanted so much to follow, my guts ached.

But my own chaos crippled me, and my muscles stiffened like glass. He frightened me. I frightened me. I didn’t dare.

But his lips hovered so close to my throat, and his finger traced my ragged wound where the blood still flowed, and his body trembled hot like a fever. Like he’d given in to some crazy impulse he couldn’t resist.

A loose pin jerked from my hair and snapped tight to his shoulder. My lips quivered, words itching to spill out. Maybe he was drunk, or sparkly. I didn’t care. I wanted Kane’s cure. But I wanted this more. “I fenced it. Quang’s in Brunswick. He might still have it—”

“Enough.” His breath raised bumps on my neck, heat washing all the way down to my sex. He sniffed a hot trail up over my chin until his mouth drifted over mine. My flesh tingled. God, I wanted him to kiss me. I could already taste him, already feel his tongue on mine. I inhaled, dizzy with anticipation.

A hot finger poked my shoulder, startling me backwards, and warm breeze ruffled my hair with the scent of matches.

My eyes snapped open, and Blaze grinned at me under a spray of bloodred hair. “Ice, darlin’, there y’are. Come have a drink with me. . . . Well, bugger me. Look at that.” He bit his knobbly knuckle in mock surprise. “Indigo. Guess I didn’t see you. How about you get your rusty-ass hands off my friend before I break your fuckin’ teeth?”

My pulse screamed in denial.
Blaze, you idiot.

Indigo hissed, current crackling between his fingers. “Try it, prettyfae.”

Blaze rested a possessive forearm on my shoulder, his eyes flaming scarlet as he stared Indigo down. Gutsy, from a six-inch height deficit. “If I find out you put that blood there, I’ll melt your damn wings together and chew ’em off. Okay?”