pointing that out. Now if you wouldn’t mind, I’ve got some forks to stab into my skull.”
“He’ll use you like a dirty tissue,” one of them sniffed. “All you’re worth anyway.”
“I weep for it.” I elbowed past them. I’d nearly passed the bar when Brystion’s voice boomed through the speakers again, rich and dark, as he asked for silence.
“I’m sorry for my . . . indiscretion,” he said, his fingers stroking the mic stand curiously, his face a strange mix of seduction and amusement. “It was not my intent to start any trouble. As some of you know, I’ve been away for a bit and not entirely myself, but that’s all changed now.”
His eyes flared gold and went half-lidded, his words a lazy drawl. “I owe someone a very sincere apology. I’m not very good with that sort of thing, so I’m going to do it with a song.”
He leaned over and said something to Melanie. A bemused expression crossed her features. I couldn’t hear her, but it looked like her mouth moved to say “Are you sure?” At his nod, she shrugged and raised the violin to her chin, bow poised as she waited for his signal. I rolled my eyes and turned toward the door. I’d had enough of cryptic words, unspoken threats, and hidden magics. I was going
home
, goddammit, and crashing for a few hours if it killed me.
My fingers brushed the knob and then I stopped. Turned. The music had started, its familiar beat causing my hands to tremble as I raised them to my lips. Brystion grinned as thechords swelled, finger pointed at me.
A giggle escaped me, and then another, and then great gasps of hysterical laughter erupted as I stumbled back to the bar. Tom Jones. The dickhead was playing Tom frigging Jones. For
me
.
I half sat on a stool, my knees shaky, as I watched the dance floor fill back up. Up on stage, Brystion tipped his head toward me, his mouth curved in hidden promise, hips gyrating in a blatant one.
“Sex bomb, sex bomb. . .”
His hand motioned me forward, pulling me toward him again, but I only shook my head. There didn’t seem to be anything other than simple music this time, but I’d had my share of fun for one night.
One dark brow rose when I didn’t move, and I gave him an apologetic shrug. The song wrapped up with a flourish and the stage went dark, the bar filled with shouts and whistles.
I slipped Brandon another ten-spot in thanks and adjusted my shirt, slipping out the door without looking back.
T he streetlights flickered dimly in the overhanging fog, the waterfront lost in a comfortable shadow. It was dark and intimate and
solitary
and that suited me just fine. I’d had my fill of sweaty bodies and alcohol-stained breath for one evening. I’d had my fill of drama too.
I leaned over the edge of the dock to listen to the slap of the tide. The way the water gently lapped at the boats always soothed me, the taut hitch of the ropes rising and falling with each small swell. A light breeze tinged with the scent of brine and tar blew gently off the water; it laughed its way through the tangle of my hair, lifting it off my forehead in blessed relief.
Brystion emerged from the darkness to loom against the railing beside me. We didn’t touch. I found a strange contentment in sharing the night sea with him, although he had his back to the bay. After a while he looked down, his arms crossed. “What are you thinking about?”
I stared at the distant lights far across the bay and shrugged. “Have you ever seen a mermaid?”
He made a bemused sound. “No,” he admitted after a moment. “But they exist . . . probably not as you imaginethough.” His boots scuffed across the wooden boards, and he rested his arms on the edge of the pier. His duster made a ruffling flap in the wind as I watched his profile gleam beneath the watery street lamps. He was so damn beautiful it made my chest hurt to look at him.
“Nothing is ever how I imagined it would be.” A wry smile tugged at my lips. “Did you want to talk
“He’ll use you like a dirty tissue,” one of them sniffed. “All you’re worth anyway.”
“I weep for it.” I elbowed past them. I’d nearly passed the bar when Brystion’s voice boomed through the speakers again, rich and dark, as he asked for silence.
“I’m sorry for my . . . indiscretion,” he said, his fingers stroking the mic stand curiously, his face a strange mix of seduction and amusement. “It was not my intent to start any trouble. As some of you know, I’ve been away for a bit and not entirely myself, but that’s all changed now.”
His eyes flared gold and went half-lidded, his words a lazy drawl. “I owe someone a very sincere apology. I’m not very good with that sort of thing, so I’m going to do it with a song.”
He leaned over and said something to Melanie. A bemused expression crossed her features. I couldn’t hear her, but it looked like her mouth moved to say “Are you sure?” At his nod, she shrugged and raised the violin to her chin, bow poised as she waited for his signal. I rolled my eyes and turned toward the door. I’d had enough of cryptic words, unspoken threats, and hidden magics. I was going
home
, goddammit, and crashing for a few hours if it killed me.
My fingers brushed the knob and then I stopped. Turned. The music had started, its familiar beat causing my hands to tremble as I raised them to my lips. Brystion grinned as thechords swelled, finger pointed at me.
A giggle escaped me, and then another, and then great gasps of hysterical laughter erupted as I stumbled back to the bar. Tom Jones. The dickhead was playing Tom frigging Jones. For
me
.
I half sat on a stool, my knees shaky, as I watched the dance floor fill back up. Up on stage, Brystion tipped his head toward me, his mouth curved in hidden promise, hips gyrating in a blatant one.
“Sex bomb, sex bomb. . .”
His hand motioned me forward, pulling me toward him again, but I only shook my head. There didn’t seem to be anything other than simple music this time, but I’d had my share of fun for one night.
One dark brow rose when I didn’t move, and I gave him an apologetic shrug. The song wrapped up with a flourish and the stage went dark, the bar filled with shouts and whistles.
I slipped Brandon another ten-spot in thanks and adjusted my shirt, slipping out the door without looking back.
T he streetlights flickered dimly in the overhanging fog, the waterfront lost in a comfortable shadow. It was dark and intimate and
solitary
and that suited me just fine. I’d had my fill of sweaty bodies and alcohol-stained breath for one evening. I’d had my fill of drama too.
I leaned over the edge of the dock to listen to the slap of the tide. The way the water gently lapped at the boats always soothed me, the taut hitch of the ropes rising and falling with each small swell. A light breeze tinged with the scent of brine and tar blew gently off the water; it laughed its way through the tangle of my hair, lifting it off my forehead in blessed relief.
Brystion emerged from the darkness to loom against the railing beside me. We didn’t touch. I found a strange contentment in sharing the night sea with him, although he had his back to the bay. After a while he looked down, his arms crossed. “What are you thinking about?”
I stared at the distant lights far across the bay and shrugged. “Have you ever seen a mermaid?”
He made a bemused sound. “No,” he admitted after a moment. “But they exist . . . probably not as you imaginethough.” His boots scuffed across the wooden boards, and he rested his arms on the edge of the pier. His duster made a ruffling flap in the wind as I watched his profile gleam beneath the watery street lamps. He was so damn beautiful it made my chest hurt to look at him.
“Nothing is ever how I imagined it would be.” A wry smile tugged at my lips. “Did you want to talk
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