Dangerous Diabolical: Book 1 (Iridescent) ✔️

6.2

"Somehow there's a Spellcaster tied into all of this." My voice was soft, but it still came out more demanding than I had meant it to be.

Slowly, she gave an uncertain nod of her head. "I guess so, I'll finish up my shift and let the boss know I might be out of town for a while. It all depends on whether the king agrees." She was referring to the king of the fae court which held her allegiance. A solo fae creature that had nowhere to call home was never long-lived, but it was also for that very reason they were rarely registered with the council.

The fae kings and queens did not look fondly on their subjects devoting themselves to two rulers.

"I'll wait if you want to walk to the treeline behind my house?" I was surprised by the relief on her face as she nodded.

We went back to the main room, and whilst she went to finish her shift, I took a seat at the bar. The bartender poured me a glass of wine. It was sweet, almost like blackberries and my mind drifted. Leofstan was going to teach me magic. It both caused me to wiggle in excitement and the bottom of my stomach to flip anxiously. If even for a minute he suspected my true nature, then things may quickly go very badly for me.

My leg tapped to the beat of the music. The smell of the club, the sway of the bodies, and the lull of the wine were making it very hard to sit still on top of anticipating what could happen tomorrow.

Willow came back for a new tray. I gave her a reassuring smile, but she was stiff, eyes darting to the door every time it opened. I was concerned she might tree out there and then.

A few males came to entertain me with conversation so I allowed them to stay and keep me preoccupied until they seemed to grow in confidence. As soon as they became too cocky they were then fixed with a strong glare which rapidly ran them to the other side of the club.

On the second such man that hurriedly left I felt the burning gaze of being watched. From across the bar, blood-red eyes locked onto me in a stern glare. Poor Grahame looked like he'd swallowed a lemon.

I smiled sweetly. "Grahame! Fancy seeing you here," I spoke normally against the music and observed his expression darkening. He had heard me over the music alright. Raising my glass in  toast, he did not oblige a return gesture. The man must have left his sense of humour in the coffin.

The music suddenly skipped a beat and the mood in the club shifted. Sure enough, behind the bar, the clock hand snapped to 3 am. I downed the last of my drink as the shadows responded to the call, the magic in the air growing thick. Any humans still lingering gained a glazed expression on their faces.

Grahame stood, trying to take in all the movement around him as whilst everything still appeared the same, beyond a doubt it was different. The club suddenly appeared to be heaving at the seam with new bodies.

"Welcome to the witching hour," I whispered to him, holding my glass out for a refill. His attention darted to me as a red liquor was tipped in with a clink.

Willow snaked her arms around my neck and his attention snapped between the two of us. "Another hour, hang in there, 'kay hun?" Even sober her voice slurred with the weight of the magic and her skin was bark rough.

"No rush," I murmured to keep the conversation between the two of us. "Tonight just got a lot more fun." Willow followed my gaze.

"He's cute." She whistled with a purr in the back of her throat.

"He's council."

"I'm out." She tapped the bar in dismissal. "Seriously, he's the one you're spending all this time with?"