The Soul Reaver (Myre Series Book One)

3. Welcome

The Irish pub at the end of the street would be full at that time of night, and with a fluttering heart, Daphne flung herself at the rustic wooden door.

It was humid inside, and the cacophony of voices and feelings startled her as she made straight for the bar. She ducked between bodies and feelings as the front door was ripped open once again.

"Shit, shit, shit." She crouched behind a table as Mist mowed himself a path through the patrons. Strangely enough, there were no curse words following him. She doubted he'd fanned out his wings to intimidate them, but he sure was tall and broad from what she'd seen in the alley. She felt her gut clench and knew it had nothing to do with fear. A quick glance at her watch told Daphne she only had five minutes left.

"Shit!" Daphne yelped as a hand closed around her ankle. It was Mist, hauling her to her feet.

"Where are you gonna run now, kitten?" His face was inches from hers, and she felt as though the heat of his wrath physically burned her skin. Being this close meant Daphne had no choice but to really look at him for the first time, and her mouth fell open as she did. He was gorgeous.

Mist had black hair with an almost-blue shine in the light, and it fell down to his brows in the front. His eyes were a startling dark blue, framed by long black lashes. He had a strong jawline and beautiful lips—well, she guessed they'd be beautiful if they weren't thin with anger.

She shook her head. He was a nice package, sure, but she knew what was inside. Swirling darkness, years of pain and anger.

Daphne looked to the side to avoid his gaze and noticed that everyone in the bar was watching them silently.

A large hand clamped down on Mist's shoulder, and he jerked Daphne around to peer at the owner.

"Yo, Mist. Who's the hottie?" The man who belonged to the big hand was tall himself. He had a wicked, lazy grin and darting green eyes. He was handsome as well, really handsome. Had she landed in a GQ shoot? He pulled one hand through his tousled blond hair and let out a whistle when he saw Daphne.

"None of your business, Jay," Mist snarled, never taking his eyes off Daphne.

Daphne was able to glance at her watch. Two minutes.

"Listen, big guy," she said to her captor, "you'll want to get me out of here really fast and then leave my vicinity even faster. I tried to drain you once and don't want to do it again, but in two minutes I might not have a choice."

"'Drain you?' What's she on about?" Jay stuck his head between the two. When he looked at Daphne more closely, his eyes widened. "Nah, she didn't." Mist nodded in confirmation, and Jay grinned. "She did? Wow, never thought I'd see the day. A zephyr being drained by a reaver."

At his words, a murmur went through the crowd and several people backed away, immediately consumed with palpable fear. Daphne could see some patrons' eyes lighting up in different colors, and she swallowed. Could they be like her? "Other?"

"We have to move now," she told Mist, who was still glowering at her. A sharp pain in her stomach told her it was too late. She clutched at her torso and grunted. Damn, she'd forgotten how much it hurt.

Mist drew his brows together and stared at her. "You waited to the last minute to find a soul? Are you fucking insane?" He shook her, and it felt like her bones rattled.

How did he know?

"Well excuse me, dipshit, it's not like I enjoy this." Daphne hissed, trying to kick him and missing by about a foot.