Fire and Bone (Otherborn #1)(36)
On the last word, the smell of charred air flicks to life in my nostrils and a spark births over the bowl, a flame licking at the air as the contents are quickly consumed. I watch and wait for the embers to fade a little, smoke rising, and then I lean over and inhale deeply, closing my eyes, focusing every molecule I can on Sage.
Instantly I smell alcohol. I taste the tang of underlings in the air, and a distant beat vibrates in my head. Music.
I wait, worrying that the visual won’t filter through as clearly as the other senses. But then I see: she’s walking up a metal staircase. Ahead, there’s a small loft, curtained with sheer silver fabric. Aelia is in front of her, high heels clicking on the steps.
They’re obviously at a club or a bar of some kind. I need to see more, to look around, but that’s not how the spell works. I get clues and sort of see/feel/smell through the torque necklace Sage is wearing. There’s a woman emerging from the gauzy curtain, a pixie with pale pink hair. She scans Sage and my nerves spark with realization. People will feel who and what she is.
Feckin’ shite, Aelia, what the bloody hell are you on?
I keep my eyes closed and ask Marius’s wife, “Where does Aelia usually hang out?” I hope this human is nosy enough about her daughter’s life to know the answer. “Like clubs, with dancing, a place to meet friends?”
“Why?” she asks.
I feel her kneel beside me. She better not touch me or I’ll lose the connection. I struggle to hold the spell tight around me. “I need to be sure Aelia’s safe. She might be in danger.” Mostly because of the demi she’s with.
“My Aelia is in danger?” Her worry blossoms in the space between us. “I don’t know . . . maybe she’d go the Oyster Club? She likes it there—or the Baja Lounge? Oh my, I’m not sure . . .”
The girls are inside a small room now, more figures are in the background, someone else in the room is a witch, maybe two or three—I can sense their energy slinking over Sage’s skin. Then I realize that this is Aelia’s coven. Why is she bringing Sage to them? They have very little power, and no say among the older druids. Is she really so petty that she thinks the new demi will help her gain standing in the druid ranks?
The music comes through a little clearer. I ask the human, “Is there a club with a big band theme, maybe?”
“Oh, that’s The Fitzgerald.”
I open my eyes and stand, leaving the spell bowl in the moss, and head for the cottage to grab a few things. Sharp things.
“Where are you going?” the wife calls after me.
Gods, her memory must’ve been screwed with too. Nice, Marius.
“I thought we were going to hang out,” she whines. “Don’t go.”
“I’m getting your daughter. You’ll thank me later.” And I slip into my cottage to find my daggers.
SIXTEEN
SAGE
There’s a line for the bathroom, even though the crowds are still thin. It’s early, and the nightlife in LA doesn’t usually get pulsing seriously until after eleven. I settle into formation behind a girl who’s sucking on a blue lollipop. Her lips and tongue are stained purple. The white-blond ponytails on either side of her head flick at the air when she bobs to the music. She glances at me and gives me a quick grin, then goes back to her lollipop.
It’s so weird to think that most of these people in here aren’t really people at all. Like, what’s this girl? A pixie? Her eyes seem teal, though, and her skin is sort of sparkly.
My babysitter, Freya, settles in beside me and leans against the wall. She shoots a sneer at the girl next to me. “Wow, the dregs are out tonight.”
Lollipop Girl tips her head in an endearing way. “And apparently so are the petri dishes,” she says in a giddy voice. “How is the bottom-feeding Shade Brigade these days?”
Freya looks like she’s about to scratch off Lollipop Girl’s face.
I clear my throat and try to divert her attention. I consider asking if she knows that the lead actor in that new superhero movie is drinking a cosmo at the bar, but I decide to focus my distraction on her super-red hair instead, since she seemed pretty obsessed with mine. “Hey, so, can you give me some tips on—”
Freya shoves me aside and gets in the other girl’s face. “You seem to be forgetting last solstice, little thief. We have video. You and your pet male amoeba are so going viral, selkie.” She sneers.
“Sure, Aelia clone. Whatever.” She tilts her head. “I hear you failed Cast finals, poor baby. Sucks not having a mind of your own.” She rubs her fingers together in front of Freya’s face, then flicks.
Small drops of water sprinkle Freya’s cheeks and forehead. She doesn’t seem to know what to say. She just blinks and makes weird noises as her mouth moves.
As much as I’m enjoying watching Lollipop Girl make Freya squirm, I decide to take the opportunity to find some sorely needed space.
I walk farther down a hall, away from the main room and the dance floor that’s beginning to fill up. Eventually, I pause in a corner. It’s just me and a tangled couple who are sucking face while leaning against the wall. Both have lit cigarettes between their fingers.
They don’t seem to know or care that I’m here. Which is nice. But the show they’re putting on, groping with their cig-free hands, isn’t super enjoyable. The craving for my own cigarette bubbles up as the trails of smoke slink around me, and I kick my traitorous brain when an ache follows; I miss Ziggy so much my chest hurts. How pathetic. I can’t believe I let my guard down with anyone. I should’ve known better.