History of Fire by Alexia Purdy Page A

rapidly gushing river. “What happened?”
    “A former lover of mine, Cornelius. He ran into Benton,” Braelynn stated, looking morose.
    Sary flicked her gaze between us. “Not Cornelius of the night elves? That’s not good if he knows we’re here.”
    I was completely lost in this conversation. The tormenting ache in my arm wasn’t any help. “Excuse me? Elves? How come I’ve never met any?”
    Sary turned toward me and touched my aching shoulder. I winced, but didn’t let her see just how much it was killing me. Her face told me she already knew.
    “The night elves are a faction of Faerie who deal in dark arts and magic. There are the sun elves, too, who work with more of the good magic of the earth.”
    “Ah, so bad boys and good boys.” I turned to Braelynn, frowning. “So you like the bad boys?”
    Braelynn pressed her lips tight but chose that moment to step forward and squeeze my shoulder hard. I hissed, the pain almost making me black out. What the hell was wrong with these women?
    I yelped. “Hey! That really hurts.” I didn’t push her away when I noticed her eyes slip into concentration and her lips begin to move. When she finished, she pulled away and rubbed her hand like it was also burning.
    “Sorry. He hexed you. I had to remove it before it took hold and made you lose the use of your arm.” Cocking her head, she frowned. “It was already taking a good hold on you.”
    I rotated my arm, feeling much better, but appalled at what she’d said. “He hexed me? What’s wrong with these people? I didn’t do anything to him.”
    Sary laughed. “Actually, claiming another’s chosen can be quite the insult in Faerie.”
    My eyes widened. I thought they were going to pop out. “WH—what?” I spun toward Braelynn, whose serious mask of a face made my fury surface. “You’re his
chosen
? A night elf? Why would he think I claimed you? I didn’t claim anyone. Spit it out, I got to hear this.”
    She sighed and stepped forward before I grabbed her elbow. “Oh, no. Spill it, sister.”
    Braelynn glared back at me, and I noticed a tiny sheen of tears forming in her eyes. “He was my chosen. I loved him once, many years ago, and he betrayed me. I left. End of story.” She shook my hand off and proceeded to enter the casino where a blast of frigid air, which kept the cooler air in and the warmer air out of the place, sent her long brown hair flying up behind her.
    I looked to Sary, who shook her head in disapproval. Apparently I was the only one still confused. It would have been nice to know I was facing a dark elf who had history with Braelynn. I was tired of them holding back information that might be critical to my survival. This was exactly why I loved working alone.
    The casino crowd was almost as thick as the one outside, with an added layer of cigarette and cigar smoke stuck to everything, like it was permanently stamped into the walls. It made my nostrils burn as we made our way through bunches of tourists, bachelorette parties, drunken college boys and addicted retiree gamblers. I walked through a puff of cigar smoke and almost choked, frowning at the old man sitting at his slot machine, purposely blowing the smoke into the walkway. He cackled at me, showing off a mouthful of missing teeth. The smoking had wreaked havoc on his face, filling it with stale-looking wrinkles and shriveling his skin. I shook my head and walked on, staying close to Braelynn, who was now clutching the crystal Elvis with both hands.
    She abruptly turned and made her way toward one the seedy bars near the rear of the casino. The smoke was making my eyes water and my chest wheeze. I hoped we wouldn’t be in there long.
    She stopped right before reaching the bar, staring at one of the bartenders as she fingered the crystal. I found the person she was focusing on and slipped onto the nearest stool.
    The bartender was a bald, slightly stout man. Usually they had some hot chick or good-looking guy behind the bar, but