Serpent's Kiss (Elder Races #3)(66)

Carling watched in fascination as he rippled through the change again. She had seen him change a few times now, and she still could not quite grasp what happened. This time the blur of his change was made even more indistinct by the cloaking . . . spell? no, that didn’t seem quite right, as it didn’t involve an incantation . . . that he kept wrapped around them. Then he was in his human form again, with his broad bare chest, horrible blood-streaked jeans and all.

He stepped close to put an arm around her and she leaned into him. “By the way, how are you feeling?” he asked. “Any hint of an approaching fade?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” He squeezed her shoulders. “Check this out; here’s your proof. We’ve landed, you’re here in public, I’m half dressed, and nobody’s noticed. Now Councillor, you’ve got to admit, that’s just not right.”

Her eyebrows shot up and she laughed. She took a quick look around. The fog blew vaporous tendrils of white along the streets. She could hear and see people and traffic in the distance, but by some trick of chance, once more nobody happened to be nearby. “That’s sheer luck,” she said. “Nobody has noticed us because again, nobody is paying attention. I’m not convinced.”

“All right,” he said. “Come with me. Just remember to be quiet now. The cloaking only works on the visual, not on the auditory senses.”

He took the bags from her again and slung them onto one shoulder, kept his other arm around her, and walked with her to the flagged, well-lit portico at the front of the hotel. She stayed silent, watching the street that was busy with honking traffic and pedestrians as Rune steered them down the sidewalk. This time they came closer to other people, and not one person glanced their way.

Even with the fog, the late morning was too bright for any of the more photosensitive of the Nightkind, and there wasn’t a Vampyre in sight. All of the people they passed were human.

Are you convinced now? Rune asked telepathically.

She smiled to herself. She liked walking down the street with him. She liked moving together and basking in the warmth of his Power as it wrapped around her. She liked his clean, masculine scent. And maybe she liked teasing him a little too. I might be a bit more convinced than I was. But you know, San Franciscans are used to some pretty odd sights, nudist parades, the Vampyre Exotica ball. It could just be we’re boring.

Never, he said, his arm tightening on her shoulders. We’re never boring. Let’s step inside.

They had to pause to wait for someone else to walk through the front doors, and then they slipped in after, Rune urging Carling to go in front of him.

The lobby was massive, filled with gold brocade furniture, towering plants in huge floor pots, marble-veined columns that supported a two-story-high ceiling, patterned marble floors polished to a high gleam and rich cream lights. It was also quite busy, filled with people dressed in designer and shabby chic clothes, and sleek, tailored business suits. The lobby was filled with random noise, from the street traffic outside to conversations and sudden trills of laughter, and the unpredictable ping of cell phone ringtones. After the relative peace and quiet of the windswept island, civilization was jarring.

Rune guided Carling adroitly to one side near a wall, where there was a quiet clear space out of the way of traffic. He set their bags down and stood with his arms crossed. He told her, Feel free to commence praising at any time.

She chuckled under her breath. The lobby traffic wasn’t all human. A couple of Light Fae were checking in at the desk, tall slender figures with their signature pale blond hair and elegantly pointed ears. The Light Fae would have the ability to sense magic, but they were busy with their own affairs and never noticed Carling and Rune. Nobody looked their way. She had to admit, she was impressed.

Not that she was going to commence praising on cue. The eagle in him was perfectly capable of preening his own feathers. She grumbled, Okay, I’ll concede you might have something here.

He murmured, At last, success.

But what’s the catch?

He squinted at her. There is no catch. Nobody can see us. You could tear off all your clothes, jump up and down, and wave your arms, if you like. Nobody can see a thing we do.

There’s always a catch, she said. And I’m not talking about the auditory. There’s always a drawback or some kind of limitation to matters of magic and Power.

You’re just a glass-half-empty kind of girl, aren’t you? He cocked his head in exasperation.

Girl, she said, mulling over the word.

Very much a girl. Rune swiveled and paced in a circle around her. She turned her head to track him. His Power changed and tightened on her. It was a heavy, sultry feeling as vivid as a physical caress. He moved behind her, so close his hard chest pressed against her shoulder blades, and his hands came over hers and curled on her slender wrists. His hands were corded with strength, broad along the back and long in the fingers. They were heavily calloused from sword work and other physical labor. He stroked those long, clever fingers of his up her arms lightly. A spiky, beautiful girl. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

The tiny friction of his touch raised goose bumps along her bare skin, and she shuddered. I bet you say that to all the spiky, beautiful girls.

Never. I’ve never said it before. He spoke with such conviction she was actually tempted to believe him. He took her shoulders and pulled her back against him. Then he bent to put his lips against her ear and said in a whisper against the delicate shell of flesh, “There is one catch to the cloaking. Anyone with Power can look and see a shimmer where we’re standing. I’m told it looks like a heat haze rising off asphalt. But that happens only if they’re looking in the right direction at the right time, and are paying attention enough to question what they see. And nobody is looking at us.”