Shadowglass (13 page)

“Done.” Joey tilts his hat with the top of his cane, ironic.

Delilah crinkles her nose at him in a smile. “Oh, and it’s not just the mirror. I want the metalshit scum who stole it, too. Sound fair?” She stalks away, the banshee’s jealous screech ringing out behind her.

The crowd filters around her, unaware, and she inhales, pleasured. Her tall heels work her calf muscles pleasantly. She likes this place, this Unseelie Court, with its seductive sounds and heavy air, rich with the stink of mortality and soulfood. But it isn’t the feast of souls or even Joey that lured her here from her plotting tonight. It’s that blue metal shitworm over by the glass, the one who stole her mirror.

Her glossy violet nails spring to ragged claws, and she swallows a greedy mouthful of flaming saliva. The mirror is incidental, though amusing. It’s the feeling of being thieved, the creature’s blind arrogance that fires her ire beyond reason. Mere slaughter is too painless for him, an eternity in hell too quick. But the shame cracking his eyes in that elevator told her everything. He’ll return the mirror to save his friends, and when he does, she’ll savage their regard for him one agonizing fiber at a time and send them all screaming to hell. When he gets there, they’ll be waiting for him. That’s what hell is.

And then, she’ll eat Joey’s skin. Or not.

Speaking of which, there’s Joey’s golden thief, wrapped in skimpy silver cloth and cowardice. Delilah bristles, black charcoal shards springing from her hair. She doesn’t care if the fairytart stole the mirror or not. She’s Indigo’s simpering sunflower girlfriend, bright and soft and vulnerable. Delilah stalked them together in the dark, smelled the raw attraction, the fear, the vivid ozone reaction of fresh lust. Bait for a predator, tasty with childlike fae naïveté.

Delilah licks plump lips and watches the golden one, wrapping herself like wet plastic on a candy firechild, dirty sparkle watering those mad fairy eyes.

He’s fine, her fairy squeeze, his body knotted and succulent, flame dancing along shining crimson wings and flickering in fire-bright hair. Ripe for a rape and a fairyslashing, rip those arrogant wings off and watch his vanity bleed into the dust. Delilah can arrange that. But the air he exhales crawls with crafty deceit, and she hangs back at the bar, pleasured, to watch him weave his lies around her.

Now they’re kissing, hesitant at first like guilty friends and then the full who-gives-a-fuck, tongues mixing and bodies yearning and his fingers wrapping in her sticky hair.

Delilah grins. Indigo’s girl, sliding sexgreedy hands over some other guy’s ass. Is he watching? She flickers out soft tentacles, searching the dark air swiftly for iron-laced sweat, but he’s not there. Pity.

A rattling sniff beside her pricks her attention. Blue airfae girl, white dress, flowing green hair tied up in a knot, lime tears shimmering on her cheeks. Pretty thing. Delilah inhales, and tangy jealousy tingles her nose like a sneeze. She follows the girl’s gaze to the dance floor, and delight squirms under her skin at the potential for mayhem.

She leans forward, scraping brown elbows on the bright bar. “Is that yours?”

The blue girl wipes her nose, oddly inelegant compared with her figure. “Huh?”

“Kissing that skinny yellow girl. Is he your boyfriend?”

The fairy tries to smile, starting a fresh wash of tears. “Yeah. Just doesn’t know it yet, I guess.”

“You poor darling. You’re much prettier than she is. I’m sure he’ll see sense.” Delilah exhales and her breath darkens the air, an oily ghost of false trust.

The girl inhales and looks up, her eyes wide. “You’re kind.”

Delilah shapes a smile and paints it with demonic persuasion. “We girls have to stick tog—”

“She’s supposed to be my friend, you know.” The girl hiccups and slurps her sky-blue drink. “She’s meant to be my best friend forever, and she goes and steals him. She always gets everything.” A pretty scowl, dark with indignation and jealousy, but something else sizzles the air on her disenchantment, too, something that pricks Delilah’s fingertips with delight.

The rusty hellstink of a stolen iron ball, mixed with the insane sheen of petulant demon-haunted glass. Another of Indigo’s pitiful friends, poisoned by the mirror. It doesn’t get much better than this.

Pleasure wrings Delilah’s belly. Soulfood. Jealousy tastes so good, like skin or a mouthful of hard flesh. And the mirror magnifies jealousy so well. She purrs, vibrations stirring deep in her throat, and leans closer to light sly fingers on the fairy’s slender hand. “Come, dear. Tell me everything.”

12

I
must have been dreaming again. This felt too good to be real.

My head swam, wet and warm with fire and drink and sparkling light, and flames tickled my nose, not dark molten iron like last time but zinging fresh and alive like the kind of rich perfume I could never afford. Dark bass still thudded in my ears, and under it a cold metal whisper scabby with rust and desire, rippling my body with distant tension. I savored it, breathing deeply in humid air like water, and chaos reveled under my skin, hot urgency bursting free with my sweat.

The cold spring of steel against my cheek, my pleasure-swollen breasts flat against some rippled wall that grazed my skin. The same skimpy dress I wore tonight, the same pins falling from my hair like lost diamonds to plink unheard on the floor.

Deft boy hands traced my hips, and I pressed backwards, searching for his body, my wings shuddering with need. Teeth grazed me, teasing me, sharp down my wing’s edge to my neck, sinking in, nibbling my spine like a playful predator. I shivered, desire watering my limbs weak. His hips ground into my bottom, and he felt deliciously hard. I squirmed back to press against him, my skirt crumpling upward, sultry air teasing bare skin at the top of my thighs. He spread my wings apart and licked a burning trail down my vertebrae, his voice pebbled with lust. “Say you want me.”

“I want you. So much. Please.” My wet hair plastered to the steel. His breath sizzled my skin like fire, and I didn’t care where we were or who was watching. I was losing my mind, and it was every drug and every drink and every pretty boy I ever had melted into one.

“Tell me you don’t care.”

His tongue flickered over the knuckle where my wing met my shoulder, and hot delight shivered down my spine. I groaned, lost. My favorite words, burning in my throat. “I don’t care. Please.”

He pressed himself against my bare bottom, and his hard cock slipped wet against my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut, desire stopping my throat and stabbing a delicious ache through my sex. I hadn’t undressed him or opened his pants, but his fiery skin rubbed sweet delight into mine and he pulled my thighs apart onto him. He pressed himself between my soft cheeks, and for a moment I groaned and shivered because I thought he’d slide it in then and there, but he didn’t. He rubbed himself in my wet flesh, so slick, the moisture slid down my thighs. “Say yes, sweetie.”

My blood sizzled bright with mirror-wrought compulsion, and wild abandon possessed me. Muscles jerked inside me, yearning for him. My voice cracked, desperate on disappearing breath. “Yes, god, yes.”

He crunched his teeth into my shoulder with a groan and pushed deep inside me.

I was tight, and the friction seared me. He pulled back and pushed harder, deeper, as far as he could go. Delight flooded me, dripping off my fingertips to stain the steel wall. I laughed, and it stretched into a deep groan as he moved in me, stroking me, slow and intense and delicious. This was happening. He was inside me, and he felt as good as they all said. His wet hair dragged on my wings, his breath sparking my shivering skin. He sucked my wing joint, hot and hard, and my eyes watered. I gasped, pleasure tightening rapidly deep inside me. “Shit, I’m gonna come.”

“Say my name.” He slid his arm around my waist, pulling me harder onto him, shifting the friction just right. “So you know. Say it.”

Damn, he’s good. My muscles squeezed him tighter, rippling, and I hardened and twisted and gritted my teeth and melted all over him in a breathless shuddering splash. “Blaze. You’re beautiful.”

I jerked awake, panting, my eyes squeezed shut.

Warm linen stroked the front of my body, comforting, and I sighed in bed, catching my breath, relief and regret flushing my skin. My pulse still bubbled, and my nipples hurt like I’d pinched them in my sleep. Hell of a dream. Hot dirty Blaze-sex. Worse ways to spend the night. I giggled, pleasured, and a distant headache flared in my scoured sinuses, remnants of sparkle and too much vodka.

Heavy soreness weighed my limbs. I wriggled sticky thighs, and beneath me something slim and hard wriggled back.

Confusion tightened my skin. I cracked one eye open in diluted shadow. Torn cloth blinds pulled over the window, a streak of sunshine on ripped carpet. Singed merlot sheets, a pillow stuffed under my crooked arm, a crusty whiff of burned hair.

Definitely not my room.

Dismay sprayed cold bullets in my guts, and slowly I lifted my head.

Crimson hair, splashing on the pillow in the fresh scent of matches.

Dread clotted my pulse. I jerked up, and my legs tangled with his, his translucent white skin sliding under me. He was naked. I was naked. Not a good sign. I glanced around swiftly. Fingerpainted wallpaper, comic books, a broken game console, crayons mashed into the carpet. His door lay half-open, glass shards littering the rug. No one could see us. I poked his ribs, keeping my voice to a whisper. “Blaze.”

He pulled the pillow over his face, rolling away into a ball, limp wings fluttering. “Sleeping now.”

“Blaze, wake up.” I dragged the pillow off and poked him harder, crusty mango hair falling over my shoulder.

He uncurled with a groan and flopped onto his back. “What for? I set the house on fire?”

“Be serious!” I hissed, glancing around again.

Blaze squinted at me, bleary-eyed, and quirked a sleepy smile. “Oh. Mornin’, sweetie.”

I flushed, and shifted my hips on the sheet, trying to keep my gaze above his waist. Pretty naked boy. Waking up. Hard-on. Mmm. “Hi. Um. Did we, uh . . . Did we have sex?”

He lifted his head to peer down at himself, naked, flushed and sticky with sweat and whatever else, and looked up at me, grinning. “Well, I dunno. Whadda you think?”

“It’s not funny, okay?” I tried to scowl, to fan my anger. But a secret rusty voice whispered warm rebellion in my heart, and I could only remember what I’d said to him in that sexy not-dream.
I want you. I don’t care. Please.

He scratched himself, sighing. “Nope. Not funny. Hot, though. Fucking excellent. Haven’t come so hard in months. Don’t you remember?”

“No.” I yanked my face away, burning with shame. I remembered enough. Az would never forgive me. I’d never forgive me. I’d never look at him the same way again. I shifted, and the fragrant mess between my thighs suggested we’d done it without condoms. Even better.

“Yeah, you do.” He twisted up with a strong flick of wings, and all of a sudden I was on my back under him in a shower of hot sparks with his thigh slinking between mine, his naughty lips teasing my ear with licks of flame. “Remember? Against the wall out back at the club? You were so hot. You came on me and I lost it. And then when we got home, you did me again, you sexy thing.”

My pulse quailed, even as my flesh squirmed in pleasure at his touch and his words. My wings strained beneath me, swelling. “You mean . . . We did it at the club? In front of everyone?”

“Yeah. Why not?”

My retort hissed too loud. “Because she could’ve seen us! Are you out of your fucking m—?”

He stopped me with a kiss, and for a moment I fought him before my resolve melted and I sucked his tongue in deep.

Not
I promised her
or
I love you too much
or even
I don’t like getting naked in public, thanks very much.

Because she could’ve seen us.

Because we might have been caught doing something bad. Something fun. Something selfish.

My desire flared, insatiable and careless, and horror slashed me with jagged claws even as the need savaged me deep to say fuck it all and do what I liked for a change. I swallowed, and kissed him harder, my blood searing with hot metal foolishness. Our teeth smashed together, his blood like cherries tingling my tongue.

He broke off, laughing softly, and pulled my thigh around him, hot claws stinging. Flame rippled along his dark wing veins, sunshine-bright with desire. “Whiskey chocolate, Ice. Why didn’t we do this a long time ago?”

His hard-on pressed into my wet flesh, and I twitched there, eager. I strained against him, my nipples rubbing on his narrow fae-muscled chest, tweaking tension deep into my breasts. I wanted him. I wanted to slap him. I wanted to crawl away and cry. “Because we’re not supposed to. Azure’s in love with you—you do know that?”

“Sure. You care?” He rocked his hips, his lips poised to catch my cries.

Nerves squirmed deep inside me, and I groaned into his mouth. I couldn’t come up with an answer I wasn’t ashamed of, and what he was doing between my legs wasn’t helping. “Because you’re a crazy whore who doesn’t give a shit and you’ll dump me first chance you get?”

He slipped lower to press against my entrance, and bit his lip, gasping. “You care? ’Cause I don’t. Not since you and that dirty little mirror. I don’t give a fuck about anything. You know what I wanna do?”

“Uh-huh.” My breath shuddered. I knew what I wanted to do. I squeezed my hand between us, guiding him.

He pushed inside me, hot and twisted with hard fae flesh, and folded smoking fingers in my hair. “Mmm. I wanna break things, Icygirl. I wanna kill and crush and shatter. Makes me feel good.”

Excitement burned away my reason. I knew exactly what he meant. I wrapped my thigh around him, light-headed, my body sighing in pleasure as he filled me. He dipped his lips to my breast, and I flattened my wings and pushed my nipple into his mouth for him to chew.

“Damn it, Blaze, can’t you keep it d—? You bitch!”

Oh, bugger.

Hot delight at being watched tingled my limbs, but my guts wrenched with sick shame. My back arched itself in sensual abandon, and I tore my attention away from the luscious feel of him inside me and forced my sex-sleepy eyes open.

Azure stared in the doorway, appleskin hair unkempt and beautiful, lime horror splashing her face. Her wings drooped in dismay. Her pretty mouth quivered, and inky tears spilled. “You bitch. How could you? You promised!”

“Oops,” murmured Blaze with a breathless smile, but he didn’t flitter off me or pull away. He stretched his wings and pushed harder, his thigh muscles quivering under my calf.

Treacherous pleasure swamped me, my deepest muscles reacting to his caress, and I gritted my teeth on a sigh of delight. Tears swelled my eyelids. I stared back at her, shame burning in my blood, but that feral metal parasite squirmed deep in my heart, rebelling, drugging my senses with selfish rage. I opened my mouth to fight it, to scream and writhe and get him off me so I could explain. But all that came out was a helpless giggle.

“Go ahead, laugh.” Azure’s face crumpled in wet green despair. “I thought you were my friend. You
promised.
I
hate
you!” And she flapped her wings in a puff of angry dust and skittered away.

“Az . . .” I squirmed around to watch her go, stretching my arm out helplessly, but the creature inside me laughed cruelly, and the lure of Blaze’s body was too strong. My flesh quivered in the faint beginnings of orgasm. I whimpered, miserable and hot and struggling against brutal pleasure, and dug my fingers into his hips, unsure whether I was pushing him off or pulling him closer. “Like this is all my fault. She hates me.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it.” Blaze crunched his teeth on my collarbone, flame spilling from his gasp. “Sorry, sweetie. I’ve gotta come. I can’t . . . Shit.”

He was getting off on her misery. Too cruel. I wriggled and pushed him. “Stop it. No, Blaze. Get off me.”

“Fuck.” He squeezed his eyes shut and jerked away, doubling over.

For a moment, I felt sorry for him. I don’t normally do that. But he didn’t deserve my courtesy. I scrambled up, frustration and disgust worming together inside me. Last night’s dress crumpled in a stained heap on the carpet, unwearable. I yanked the sheet from the bed’s end, tugged it around me, and stumbled into the lounge. “Az?”

Not there. I poked my head into her room, but it lay empty but for her sugared-apple scent, the bedcovers thrown back and still seeping her damp warmth.

I jittered to the bathroom, where the splintered door sat wonkily shut, her sobs faint but distinct. I rapped with two knuckles, those guilty worms in my tummy chewing harder now. “Azure?”

“Mushroom stew, Ice. Go away. I hate you.” Sniffles, a wet cough.

I rested my forehead on the splintered paint, my eyes blurring. “I’m so sorry.”

“Fuck off. You promised. You always get everything.” A clink, like she hit her head on the tiles.

“Please, Az. I didn’t mean it—”

The door yanked open, and I stumbled in, catching myself on the towel rail. She glared wet-eyed, her face smeared with snotty green tears, and angry breeze blasted me in the face like a gale. “Then what did you mean? Huh? I saw you last night, rubbing yourself all over him right in front of me.”

I hadn’t even noticed she was there. “I’m sorry! It was an accident.”

Fury flushed her pale wings scarlet to the tips, and she leaned over me, poking her green-smeared nose into my face. “Then what was that just now? Déjà vu?”

Her stretched voice scraped my nerves. “No, I told you, I—”

“Once is an accident, Ice. Twice is a dirty lying bitch who can’t keep her hands to herself. You’ve probably been doing him all along, right? Laughing at me.”