"He's Czech, Rox, not deaf," I pointed out, wiping my face with the wet cloth before handing it back to the bartender. I sipped a bit more water while everyone drifted back to where they were sitting, just as if nothing earth-shattering had happened. I rubbed my forehead and wondered why my mind had chosen that moment to snap, and what I was going to do about piecing it back together. What I needed was some time to myself with a big gallon jug of brain super glue.
"I think you should go lie down rather than go to the GothFaire," Roxy pronounced, evidently reading what remained of my mind. "You look like death warmed over."
"Thanks a lot." I struggled to block out the feeling of danger that surged within me until it howled like the wind in a storm. I gritted my teeth as Roxy chatted on, unwilling to give in to the sensation, clutching the arms of the chair in an attempt to focus on what was real, not what my mind was generating. The wood, that was real. It was hard and smooth from years of polishing, the intricate scroll carving on the arms was deep, the edges blunted with use. I fought to control my breathing, denying the need to pant as the blackness drew closer.
He is coming, a voice whispered in my head.
There is no one! I yelled back at it. I wondered if somehow Tanya hadn't slipped me one of her hallucinogenic drugs. Maybe she put it in my beer before I came, intending on pulling a little prank. If so, I didn't appreciate it, but at least it served to comfort me in an odd way. If I was suffering the effects of a drug, I wasn't going insane. Or worse.
I grabbed at the water glass and choked back a swallow, unable to hear the conversation around me for the howling of the wind. I was surprised no one else commented on it, but a slow glance around the room confirmed that everything was normal. People chatted, laughed, smoked, and drank just as if they weren't caught in the middle of hurricane-force winds. A pleasant-faced dark-haired man in a suede coat walked through the door, pausing to greet the bartender and several of the men clumped together before accepting a glass of wine and joining a lively group. A barmaid wandered through the crowd with a tray of beers. Someone brought out a pack of cards. It was all utterly normal.
The wind rose to an unbearable volume, shrieking and screaming out words of torment and pain, but just when I thought I was going to scream myself, just when the red pit opened up before me again, all was suddenly quiet.
He had come.
"Joy? Did you hear what Arielle said? Their rune reader up and quit last week."
"Huh?" I turned my head slowly, my gaze touching each person in the room as I turned to look at the door. No one looked out of the ordinary. How could it be that no one else could feel the danger that sparked through the air?
"She says Dominic is looking for someone to take her place. You could ask him about taking on the job for a few days while they're here in Blansko. That would be so cool!"
"Dominic? Runes?"
"She's great at predicting natural disasters," Roxy bragged to Arielle.
The door burst open as she spoke, the blackness of the hall beyond untouched by the lights within the room. I froze, my breath a solid lump in my chest as I waited to see him, waited to see what horrible creature my mind had conjured up. Would he be a hunchback? Would he be twisted and maimed, with flesh hanging off him in rancid strips? Would it be something worse?
With a swirl of black material, a man stepped through the door, pausing dramatically to survey the room before sauntering forward. He had dark blond hair that curled back from a pronounced widow's peak, dark eyes, and a face so handsome it would make an angel weep. He was followed by another man, taller than the first, probably topping me a good four or five inches, also dressed in black. He wasn't particularly handsome, and he was certainly more conventionally dressed than the first, but there was something about him that held my gaze.
"There's Dominic now," Arielle said happily.
"What?" Roxy asked, her head swiveling around quickly. "Where? Oh my God, is that him, the guy in the cape? God almighty!"
I sat silent in my chair, my head reeling with the sudden absence of sound, my skin prickling with anticipation.
"Yes, that's him," Arielle confirmed. Tanya rose and started for the two men. My gaze went back to the first man. He had waited until all eyes were on him, then plucked the black cape from his shoulders, tossing it onto a coat tree before turning to smile at everyone in the room. His canines were elongated, pointed, and looked very sharp.
And they were as phony as he was, I was as sure of that as I was of my own name. Surer. Which meant, if I wasn't going mad and I hadn't been given any drugs… My eyes turned to the tall man standing in the shadow of the doorway. His face was set in grim lines, all harsh angles and planes, his eyes a curious light brown color—amber, I'd guess, although it was difficult to be sure all the way across the room. But what captivated me was the aura of quiet power and confidence that he seemed to wear as naturally as he wore his dark leather jacket and black jeans.