“I wish you wouldn’t have cast that sleep spell on me,” I say softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “You masked the truth to protect me. I don’t want you doing something like that again.”
Taryn’s eyes meet mine, a mixture of defiance and tenderness. “I make my own choices, Finnian. I wanted to spare you any suffering, so I did. You would’ve done the same thing in my position.”
Fuck, she’s got me there. “Maybe.” Definitely. “But you need to honor my choices, too. So let’s agree that we’ll always be completely honest with each other so we can make our own decisions. Fate might be real, but not everything has been mapped out for us. Deal?”
She nods, her gaze softening. “Deal.”
When the bottle is nearly full, I press a towel against her wrist and hold it there for a few seconds, then watch as her skin knits together. Once it’s smooth and unbroken, I kiss the spot where the cut had been, then find her mouth with mine. What starts out as sweet and gentle soon grows in intensity, filled with the raw emotions leftover from the turbulence of the day.
Her lips are warm and yielding as my tongue sweeps inside to stake its claim. She moans and wraps her arms around my neck. My hands grab her ass and pull her to the edge of the counter to eliminate as much space between us as possible.
She lifts her head to catch her breath, so I trail open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, to the place behind her ear, and down her neck.
“Drink from me, Finnian.” I hesitate, pulling back to search her eyes. “You’re going to need my blood anyway if we have to cross the veil. I want you to,” she says, urging my head back to her neck.
Giving in, I let my lips find the pulse in her neck. I slowly graze the line of her vein with my fangs, offering her a chance to change her mind, while hoping she won’t.
Then she whispers my undoing. “Please, sire.”
Growling, I bite down, piercing her soft flesh with the sharp points of my fangs. She gasps as her blood fills my mouth, and I moan from the way she tastes. Like a heady blend of an aged honey whiskey and the smoky sweetness of a summer bonfire.
I’m surprised at the rush of warmth and power.
I begin to drink her down, and with every pull, her moans of pleasure tell me this is every bit the passionate act I’ve heard it was. A rush of warmth and the thrum of an unfamiliar power flows through me. I feel my senses get sharper, my mind clearer.
“Finn!”
I pull away, terrified I took too much. “Fuck, did I hurt you?” But she doesn’t look hurt. She doesn’t even look fazed. She’s actually looking at her left palm and laughing. “Taryn?”
Meeting my gaze, she gives me the biggest smile. “We can try Plan A first, after all.”
Still reeling from the aftereffects of her blood, I frown. “What do you mean?”
“It took its sweet time, but it worked.” She shows me her palm, where the next clue is glowing faintly in my grandmother’s handwriting.
My eyes flare wide. “You magically transferred the clue onto your hand?” She nods, beaming with pride, as well she should. “Taryn Emory, you’re my fucking hero.”
Her laughter is infectious, and I can't help but join in as I grab her in a bear hug and swing her around in celebration. Score one for the good guys. We’re not out of the race yet.
When I set her down, she grabs the bottle of her blood and sashays out of the bathroom, swinging her hips and glancing over her shoulder at me. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go find us a spear.”
TWENTY-SEVENTARYN
Where neon spirits rest their glow,
secrets past lie far below.
Star and dust, grand and staid,
hides the hall of riches made.
A sire lost does guard nearby,
seek the room of fortunes high.
Fortunately, this was the easiest clue to solve, thanks to Caiden. The oldest Verran immediately understood Moira’s cryptic instructions, and since he was always intimately involved in his family’s businesses—Tiernan not so much, apparently—he knew exactly where we needed to go.
Since we needed Caiden in the search party, that meant Bryn had to come along, too, or their distance apart would kill him, due to the blood curse Aine heaped on the royals of both Celestial Courts. The idea of bringing Bryn into a potentially dangerous situation nearly gave him an apoplexy, until she reminded him that as the Darklight, she was more powerful than him by miles. It was quite something to watch a former king be humbled so fully by his pregnant wife. It made me like her all the more.
Five minutes later, everyone except Tiernan and Fiona were out the door. It didn’t take us long to get to the north side of Fremont Street to a place called the Neon Boneyard where hundreds of old signs have been arranged into an outdoor museum.
It’s afterhours, but the twenty-seven signs that were restored remain lit up at all times, glowing brightly against the night sky in a kaleidoscope of colors.
With Bryn close by his side, Caiden leads our little pack through the meandering paths with old signs of every size arranged on either side. A few times I notice his gaze snags on a particular relic, and his naturally stoic expression appears to almost soften, as though remembering the early days of his family’s empire.
I place my hand in Finn’s and let him lead me as I stare entranced at some of the most iconic signs in Vegas history. I want to stop and study them all, imagining what they looked like when they were new and lit up and think about the thousands of people they attracted to their establishments.
But we’re quite literally on a mission, and there’s no time right now to play the part of tourist.
“Here we are,” Caiden says, as we stop in front of the massive red Stardust sign with its space-agey letters lit up with thousands of bulbs. The Riviera sign above it is similar in design, and with the monolith that is the Hard Rock Cafe guitar off to the right, we’re awash in the glow of red and yellow neon.
Bryn presses her free hand into her lower back, which is probably feeling the strain from the short walk. “Wow, that’s amazing. Definitely ‘grand and staid.’ So what’s the hall of riches Moira mentioned?”
“It’s a secret underground casino, called Abhaile,” Caiden says.
A smile curves my lips. “Faerish for home.”
Caiden offers me a nod of respect. “That’s right. Our father opened it in 1908, just a few years after we established Vegas, as a gambling hall exclusive for Dark Fae. Then, when gambling was outlawed in 1910, he opened it up to all supernaturals.”
My brother’s eyes light up like a lightbulb turned on over his head. “Ah, I know this place. It was enjoyable when I had business here. But I lost much money playing roulette. That part I did not enjoy so much.”
“Now I remember,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him. “I never came with because I wouldn’t step foot in this city—no offense,” I add to Finn and his brother.
Finn winks. “None taken.”
Caiden frowns at Finn. “Some taken.”
“But you always came back with less money than what you made on your new deals. Pissed me the hell off,” I finish, crossing my arms.
“He wasn’t the only one. The odds were heavily in the house’s favor,” Caiden says. “Abhaile was how we made most of our money until they legalized gambling again in 1931. Then Dad shut it down, claiming it was too much of a hassle to keep it going with the rest of the city growing. Now, I wonder if he didn’t foresee the ban and planned the whole thing.”
Finn’s head snaps in his brother’s direction. “You think Dad was a seer?”
Caiden shrugs. “I’m not sure. Specialty powers typically run in family lines. Dad was an only child and alive when our people lived in Faerie, so I think it’s possible he had the sight and kept it secret since it didn’t pass down to us who were all born here.”
Connor snaps his fingers. “I always thought he knew too much. I just assumed he and our dad had spies everywhere.”
Finn shakes his head as though in disbelief. “At some point, I’m going to think back on my entire life for any clues Dad was psychic. But not until we get this spear and put Edevane down.”
