A Tangle of Hearts (A Shade of Vampire #44)(48)

“Pack your satchels, girls,” Hansa barked at them. “You’re riding out to Arid’s camp. Get him to set up a meeting with us on neutral ground. You leave in an hour.”

Kallie, Thenna, and Riga nodded simultaneously and rushed to the far eastern camp border to get the horses ready. Hansa turned her attention back to us with a lascivious smile.

“You all need to rest and relax now. Tonight, we feast.”

She looked at me far too intently for me not to notice the sexual undertone. I then realized that they were all looking at me, Bijarki, and Draven, who, for all his blindness, was still considered a good mate. The succubi’s expressions were excessively suggestive, and I felt my cheeks burn.

We had switched from political and strategic discussions to salacious double entendre so fast that none of us men knew how to react. The succubi scattered, but some sent me unspoken promises with their eyes. I would find out later what they meant if I didn’t hold my ground. And so would Bijarki and Draven from what I could tell.

I looked over to Anjani, who glowered at me, then turned and joined her sister. They walked toward the bonfire.

To my right, Serena clutched Draven’s arm, visibly flushed and looking at the succubi like they were bloodthirsty shifters. I couldn’t help but wonder whether there was something going on between her and the Druid.

The thought left me quickly as Bijarki moved to my side and nudged me with his elbow.

“I think we’d best stay close to one another in case they get ideas,” he mumbled.

I was in for a rough night.





Serena





[Hazel and Tejus’s daughter]





I was in for a rough night.

I knew it from the moment we set foot past the limestone barrier and the succubi saw us—well, had seen the men in our group, that is.

One by one they had stood up, coming closer and setting their lustful sights on Jovi, Bijarki, and Draven. I had felt so awkward, so out of place, and, frankly, intimidated. This was a tribe of creatures designed to seduce and weaponized to kill. I may be quite the fighter myself, but after looking at them, I felt small and meaningless by comparison. It was a feeling I suspected I would spend the rest of the night fighting off.

I tried to focus on our mission instead and couldn’t help but smile at the thought that we were one step closer to putting an end to Azazel’s bloody and destructive reign. It meant we were also one step closer to going home. However, that last thought didn’t sit as well with me as it had in the past, because it instantly made my mind drift to Draven, wondering if I’d ever see him again after all this was over.

Evening settled around the camp, and I noticed a shimmering, transparent dome stretching above it. I hadn’t been able to see it in the daylight, but it seemed to deflect light differently at night. According to Hansa, it was another perk of the swamp witches’ protective spell. It was only a visual illusion that kept the tribe hidden from anyone or anything flying over. No one could see in, but we could all see out, like through a massive glass ceiling.

I sat by the giant bonfire next to Draven, leaning against a dozen soft pillows made from animal hides and stuffed with down from jungle birds. They felt good against my back, a welcome respite from the previous night’s amber casing and moss floor.

Hansa, despite her imposing frame and thundering voice, was a very gracious host. Once she had seen the potential of our alliance, she relaxed a little and made sure we had everything we needed for the night. Three tents had been raised for us and stocked with water pitchers and blankets.

But before we could sleep, we had to sit through their nightly feast.

After a moment of silence to honor their fallen sisters, the succubi put the little ones to bed and gathered around the fire with massive platters of food—a dazzling array of weird-looking grilled meats, exotic vegetables and fruit, and what looked like local breads.

Some of the warriors took to the drums and provided the musical entertainment—an endless stream of tribal beats flowing into a passionate rhythm that further reinforced my view of the succubi as fiery creatures who rarely saw the fine line between love and hate.

Bijarki sat farther to my right surrounded by a throng of purring succubi. Two of them danced with each other in front of him, moving their hips and flexing their legs to the rhythm of the drums. Their muscles jolted with each move, and the light of the bonfire threw playful shadows against their silvery bodies.

They smiled at him, using fluid hand gestures to coax him into joining them, but Bijarki didn’t react. Even with three other succubi lounging around him, their perfect bodies snaking along the pillows as they caressed his face and torso, the incubus looked into the distance, completely unresponsive.

He wore his eyebrows in a pensive frown. His skin glowed under the bonfire, his grayish eyes dark and solemn. His jaw was firm, and his lips were set in a straight line. He was truly a beautiful creature, carved to physical perfection. I couldn’t help but think about Vita in that moment. I had given Bijarki a hard time at first, but really, she had every reason to feel attracted to him, with or without his influence. I wondered if his apathy toward the succubi’s advances had something to do with her.

We ate well—though I found myself shying away from the meats—and Jovi and I were particularly happy, given the looks we exchanged during dinner. It was so good to be out of the mansion, tasting real food instead of the same magical tasteless junk we’d endured since arriving in Eritopia. I laughed as he sank his teeth into a large plum and almost growled as he tore at the pulp.