Cursed Fae (Dark Thirst Series Book 1) Read online

  I pushed the semi-hot cup to his side of the countertop. “There you go.”

  He stepped closer, the scent of him floating under my nostrils. Woodsy. Musky. Enticing. “Thank you.”

  With two fingers, he slid the bill across the laminate and I snatched it up, careful not to touch him, and stuffed it into my back pocket.

  He took a sip, his eyes on mine as he swallowed. “I appreciate it, Emily.”

  I gulped at his use of my name, but a quick check with my fingers told me I was still wearing my name tag.

  “No problem,” I said.

  I didn’t ask for his name. Not that I didn’t want to—I was desperate for it, actually. Strangely craving the taste of his moniker on my tongue, but that static was back, the electricity moving over my skin in cresting waves, and I was trembling and sweating as I watched him turn on his heel, his expansive back and the V of his dark hair against his neck titillating my senses.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “By the way, how you were holding those keys? Next time, keep your thumb outside your fingers when you form a fist. You don’t want to break your hand when you throw a punch.”

  My lips parted as the door jangled open. Another form joined him outside, one I couldn’t see clearly, and both shadowy profiles departed past the window before I could study them further.

  My hand cramped as I unclenched my fist and dropped the keys. They landed on the floor with a musical clatter, and I rested my palm against my pumping chest, wondering what the heck I’d just avoided.

  Because, without a doubt, that guy reeked of seduction.

  And danger.

  Chapter 3

  Between eerie shadows, strange noises, and unnerving tingles, I’d never been happier to cross 2nd Avenue and reach the doorstep of my building. My hands were numb with the walk and I fumbled with the keys as I tried to fit them into the lock.

  Silver eyes flashed into my memory, along with a friendly warning that came across as more sinister than not. “You don’t want to break your hand when you throw a punch…”

  I held the first door open with my hip while I unlocked the inner door, allowing it to slam shut with the wind once I could get all the way inside. I prepared for the walk up the five flights it would take to get to 5D. Even though I’d been living in this apartment for a year, I could never walk these flights without taking a small break to catch my breath on the third floor. But it was an excellent alternative to paying for a gym membership.

  My relief was palpable when I reached my door with its questionable flesh-pink paint. I wanted nothing more than to lie against tiny shower walls and let hot water cascade over me and then crawl into the one luxurious item I’d allowed myself—the queen-sized bed.

  Yet, as soon as I stepped in to my one-room apartment, I bit back a sigh. Macy was lounging on my luxurious item.

  “Couldn’t find the sexy new guy,” she said as a greeting, rolling to her side. “But I found your spare keys.” She dangled her purse as evidence. “Trapped between my necklaces and lipstick.”

  I dropped my bag on the floor. “Your efforts at guarding my emergency set of keys are unparalleled.”

  Her eyebrow lifted as she took in my damp, exhausted state. “Tough day?”

  “A little.” I sat beside her and pulled off my boots. “I just can’t get enough of those caffeinated college students.”

  “I’m not insulted by that because I only drink hot chocolate,” Macy responded, lifting her legs to make room for me. “And it’s too bad, anyway.”

  I stared hard at her, recognizing her tone. I realized she’d styled her long brown hair into perfectly coiffed waves and added black liner to her eyes.

  Oh, no.

  “So.” Macy pulled innocently at the threads of my comforter. “There’s a party tonight.”

  It was Friday night, of course there was a party, and obviously Macy wanted to go.

  “Good! That’s settled. You’re going,” she said. “Now get ready.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “And wear something amazing,” Macy continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “The new sexy stranger will probably be there, if my sources are correct.” She waved her hands around like a queen as she lounged against my pillows. “So hotness must surround you for the event which I’ve obviously succeeded in, but now we must make you hotter.”

  I gave her a sidelong look. “You have a boyfriend, remember? Sandy hair, cute smile, actually nice to you. I believe you call him Rob?”

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t look insanely gorgeous.” Macy leaned forward again. “Besides, it’s not me I’m concerned about.”

  My stomach dropped. The dark place, the part I thought I’d padlocked away years ago, drifted to the surface and stirred against the back of my neck.

  “Em! Don’t look so devastated. It’s a party for goodness’ sake. Meant to be fun. F-U-N.”

  “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

  Macy sighed. “Girl, you’re lucky I love you so much it hurts. Now, come out of your hermit-hole for a little while and join me.”

  I forced myself to agree, because Macy’s golden light somehow had found its way into the darkness shading my heart. She was my only friend, and the sole person willing to deal with my strange, quiet moods. Any day now, I expected her to lose patience and move on to her happier, sunny sidekicks at college, forgetting about the weirdo barista she’d taken a shine to, and tried to fix but failed.

  “You win.” I said it with a smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. “Let me shower first.”

  I’d attend the party for Macy’s sake, but I couldn’t help but sense that the reason I was so reluctant to go wasn’t because of shyness or self-consciousness, but because of something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in ten years.

  Fear.

  * * *

  “Move and this red is getting all over your chin,” Macy said, all innocence as she dabbed tinted gloss on my lips. “And it ain’t easy to remove.”

  “You know I don’t want to give people more reason to look at me,” I said once she released my jaw.

  “You probably should’ve thought of that before you let me paint your face.” Macy picked up a powder brush, sending out a fragrant beige cloud as she finished and handed me a compact mirror. “That’s as big a mirror as you’re gonna get. You’re hot. Freaking own it, or else…” Macy riffled through her make-up bag, then withdrew her arm with flair. “I’ll put this on you.”

  Macy held up scarlet red lipstick, her smile devious. “And don’t let these skinny arms fool you. I will take you down like a linebacker.”

  Threatening to paint my lips red was like flashing a cross in front of a vampire. I was seconds away from recoiling and hissing. Macy rolled her eyes at the answering expression on my face.

  I threw a pillow at her.

  “Point made,” I said after her muffled “oomf” when the pillow hit its mark. “I won’t try to wipe any make-up off when you’re not looking.”

  “As if you could ever avoid my beady eyes.”

  I waited for Macy to put the lipstick in her bag before I stood from the foot of my bed, barely glancing at Macy’s compact mirror before snapping it shut and handing it back.

  “It’s chilly out,” Macy said. “Make sure you layer up.”

  Macy grabbed her jacket off my bed, a red peacoat that she threw over a tight, garnet-colored cocktail dress, the type of outfit college girls insist on wearing to house parties, even in the dead of winter.

  Ugh. Including me.

  After slipping into my cardigan, I added an extra layer over the tight royal blue dress Macy'd put me in, burrowing deeper into my puffy gray jacket as I followed her out of my apartment.

  I halted once I realized the very real danger of descending five flights of stairs in heels. I was willing to do almost anything for my friend, but I wasn’t willing to die, so after toddling behind her for two steps, I pulled the potential murder weapons off and went barefoot.

  “Gross,” Macy observed. “What
diseases are you contracting through your feet right now?”

  “Nothing worse than a broken neck,” I retorted.

  At the bottom, I was forced to strap them back on. Grumbling, stumbling and cursing, I finally slipped my feet in, only to straighten and step into freezing air with a hazy, drizzly mist when Macy shoved open the front door.

  She stopped me from saying anything by holding up a finger. “I know. I owe you for going with me. But let’s go have some fun, okay?” She smoothed open her umbrella for both of us to huddle under. “No more cranky Ems.”

  As we stumbled down the damp sidewalk, slipping on ice patches and squealing as we grabbed each other’s arms, a grin broke loose and stretched wide over my face. I was clutching Macy, my bare legs doing their best imitation of transforming into pale, sharp icicles, and laughing as we forced pedestrians to move around our giant umbrella. We slid around in our non-winter-approved shoes like little Bambis navigating a frozen pond.

  “See?” Macy said once she caught her breath from laughing. “This is so much better than crawling into bed and sleeping the night away!”

  This is what it’s like, I thought. Belonging.

  We caught the subway just in time, and after a twenty-minute wait for a transfer that Macy conveniently neglected to mention, the A train brought us to our destination. Macy chattered the entire time, her voice a welcome balm despite me being unknowingly dragged to a college party in Brooklyn. It was drizzling as we strolled (well, I maintained my Bambi toddle), but Macy was undeterred.

  We were half a block away when the thumping bass could be heard toward Nick Daniels’s brownstone, a sophomore known for his limitless supply of tequila.

  “We made perfect timing,” Macy said as she ate up the sidewalk, her heels clipping against the salted pavement. I was less classy, all arms and legs as my rapidly swelling feet pled with me to sit down.

  Macy laughed and held out her hand to guide me over a cracked, uneven section of the concrete. With my heels an inch taller than hers—which I was sure Macy orchestrated for my torture—we were the same height and swayed into comfortable companionship in the mist as we reached the source of the throbbing bass.

  “Fingers crossed Mr. College Mystery is here,” she said as we stepped off the walkway, through the open front door, and into a crowded and humid hallway.

  “What are the chances of that?” I asked.

  “About the same as me being able to drag you to this house.” Macy spun to face me, walking backwards and not missing a beat in her heels. “You have a coolness factor, Ems. I’ve seen it. It’s why we’re friends, and it’s why he’ll be here, and you two will have cool babies together. I will make it so.”

  Macy winked before turning back around. She was one of those girls with natural luck. If she willed something to come true, it probably would.

  I just hoped that her good fortune wouldn’t turn into my curse.

  Chapter 4

  “I told you. Mystery Guy is a student.” Macy pursed her lips. “Maybe. And all students go to parties.”

  “I hear some go to college to study and get a degree,” I said, pinching the back of her arm in jest. “And avoid social gatherings altogether.”

  “Bah.” Macy flicked her hand. “Not our type. He looks like he parties. Believe me.”

  A wall of thick heat hit us as soon as we entered the house, and we stripped off our jackets. People splayed themselves everywhere, a few I recognized as Cream of the Cup regulars, most I didn’t. All held a form of liquid. We had to shoulder through a mass of gyrating, chattering bodies as we navigated through the hallway and into the kitchen.

  Two kegs stood as sentries beside a wide granite kitchen counter, leaving plenty of room for the various bottles of cheap liquor and soda mixers scattered across the luxury stone. Macy made a beeline for the keg on the left, grabbing two red Solo cups on the way.

  “If you insist,” I said as she handed me a full, frothy cup, the foam dripping down the edges and spilling onto my sleeve.

  “My bad,” she said. “I still haven’t gotten the hang of pouring out of a keg.”

  I shrugged, since I wasn’t planning to drink much of it, anyway. “As long as it’s not a ploy to get me to take off my sweater.”

  “Who, me?” Macy asked before swinging left and dumping our jackets and her umbrella on a random chair, then headed to where the music was loudest.

  “Mace, wait up!” I said, fumbling with my overflowing beer as I tried to keep up with her.

  We ended up in the massive space of the main room. Speakers blared in the corner underneath a fancy eighteenth century lamp. People clustered in groups near the middle, dancing wildly, couches pushed haphazardly out of their way, or paired up around the sides. It was cloudy; someone actually brought a fog machine and cranked it up. Bright lights flashed against the walls, and a small black disco ball rested inside an unlit fireplace, its neon lights streaming. Combined with the foggy mist, the room took on an eerie glow, obscuring the faces and bodies that writhed amid a composition of neon light and shadow.

  My heart fumbled around in my chest, spooked with unease.

  “You!”

  Nick, the party’s host, came barreling out of the shadows, his face flushed with sweat. “I recognize you! Everly!”

  One side of my mouth quirked up. “Emily. But close.”

  “Yes!” He gave me a hard pat on the shoulder, his own beer sloshing dangerously at his midsection. “Tequila Barbie!”

  I shook my head, hoping I was conveying over the pounding music that no, there’d be no Tequila Barbie appearance tonight. It was rare, but sometimes I got tipsy and could dance and spin through the night, my mind gorgeously blank. It was what I was sure Macy noted as my “coolness factor.”

  I gestured to my drink. “Just this tonight.”

  He scoffed. “Whatever. Pound that down and then come find me. We’ll get you nice and sauced.” Another hard whack hit my shoulder. “Hey, where’s the Mace-ster?”

  Good question. I scanned the room, but knew I’d lost her the instant Nick distracted me. Macy had a talent of disappearing if you didn’t always have her within range. “No clue. Maybe looking for Rob?”

  “Wait, what’s your major again?” Nick asked.

  I looked back at Nick. “Don’t have one. I don’t go to college.”

  “No?” He paused. “Oh, I get it. You want to be an actress.”

  I opened my mouth to deny it, but then thought: why bother? It was a common assumption with Macy’s college friends, especially when they found out I was a coffee barista by day and a waitress by night.

  I gave him a sheepish you’re right look, before politely turning away.

  “No, wait!” His meaty, sweaty hand hooked my forearm, sending my beer all over the front of my sweater. I gasped.

  “Crap, sorry,” Nick said. His hands flew up in surrender, his own beer tilting sideways. “Didn’t mean it.”

  “It’s fine. Really.” I brushed away any droplets I could. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll get you a napkin. Hang on a sec.”

  Sighing and knowing it would delight Macy that she’d inadvertently succeeded in her goal, I peeled off my soaked-through cardigan and folded it over my forearm.

  Nick departed, leaving me blissfully alone. I searched again for Macy and finally located her through the mist, bobbing her head from side to side. I crowd-danced over, my body surprisingly graceful as I dodged twisting, unpredictable limbs.

  That’s odd. I wasn’t known to dodge anything that well.

  “Hey, Ems!” Macy shouted into my ear as I reach her. “Guess what? I found him!”

  Macy didn’t have to elaborate. I sensed him almost as soon as I was within ten feet, pins and needles cascading across the backs of my shoulders like electric wings unfolding.

  He was in the far corner, and while obscured by the neon mist, he was sitting on the armrest of a loveseat pushed against the wall. His eyelids were lowered, almost casually, as if from b
oredom. But I recognized him.

  The guy who entered the coffee shop and caught me alone. The one who paid fifty dollars for old coffee. The boy who caused danger and allure to linger in the air long after he left.

  He was unaware of my presence, and I took advantage by committing him to memory. I had to. Some unseen force demanded not to forget him, and my brows furrowed at the innate command.

  Deep-set eyes framed by dark brows. High cheekbones, the skin above them curving down before connecting seamlessly to full, sculpted lips.

  Deathly beauty.

  I couldn’t look away. He wore the same black shirt, despite the winter. Dark swirls of ink covered his arms instead of fabric.

  I stopped gaping only when I reached the hollow at his throat. A tingling sensation replaced my examination, rushing forward and nearly knocking me off my feet.

  My gaze narrowed at the cleft at his collarbone. It rose, up and down, with his unheeded breaths, his pulse fluttering underneath the thin, delicate skin. My breath caught.

  His eyes snapped up.

  I took half a step back. A pool of saliva had built up in my mouth. I forced down a loud swallow.

  “Dude, I thought I was the boy-crazy one here,” Macy said beside me. “You’re totally eye-stalking him.”

  “Mace!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t explain to her what happened. I couldn’t even explain it to myself. “I’m not—I’m just curious, is all.”

  “I’ve finally succeeded!” She laughed. “Should’ve known you’d go for a sexy, tattooed bad boy.” Macy paused, considering. “Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen you show interest in anyone.”

  I avoided her probing gaze.

  “Which is why you must have him,” she concluded. “One year of celibate Ems is no fun for Macy, believe you me.”

  I had the extreme urge to move far away from this guy, but Macy hooked my arm before I could retreat, pulling me in his direction. “Macy, no. My sweater’s … I need to go to the bathroom.”