CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Where are we going?” Verrill wrapped an arm around my shoulder, tucking me closer to his body, draping me in his warm amber scent, as we strolled down the cobblestone streets of the historic part of town.
“Well, that depends. What kind of date experience do you want?”
The Shadow King paused but only a moment before responding. “I’d like to experience the quintessential human date.”
“Dinner and movie then. Doesn’t get more typical than that. Only, I’m already so full so let’s skip dinner and get right to the movie part. Oh, there’s an old, historic theater right around here. I’ll bet they’re playing classic movies, too.” We walked about a block before the telltale marquee came into view. “Oh, look, they’re showing Casablanca.”
“Is it a favorite of yours?”
“Um, no. I’ve never seen it but it’s supposed to be very romantic.”
The Shadow King leveled his star-flecked gaze at me. “Do you want to see this Casablanca?”
“Sure, why not?” I tugged him toward the box office and asked the teenager tending the window for two tickets.
“It’s $22.50.” The boy jutted out his hand with a glazed stare that paired well with his monotonous voice.
I nudged Verrill. “I don’t have any money.”
“Right, money.” Verrill conjured an absurd stack of cash into his palm. “Is this enough?”
I snatched a bill off the top and shoved it into the boy’s hand, pulling the Shadow King away without waiting for change. “For Lillith’s sake, Verrill, put that away.”
“What? You asked me to—”
“Yes, but you can’t conjure that much money without drawing attention.”
“Right. My mistake.”
We entered the old theater and even though I was still stuffed to the gills, the smell of popcorn was a siren’s call. I convinced Verrill to share a small bag with me.
“I don’t really want it,” I confessed as we sat in the center of an empty theater. “But it’s what you do. It’s part of the experience.”
He put a few kernels in his mouth and immediately grimaced. “This is not food.”
I chuckled. “Not a popcorn guy, huh?”
He sat the bag in my lap. “Clearly not.”
The theater dimmed, and the movie flickered to the screen without previews. “Why is it only in shades of gray?” he asked in his normal speaking voice.
“Shhh.”
The Shadow King leaned closer and whispered in my ear. “Why is this movie gray?”
“Because old movies like this one were made before color film.”
He nodded and leaned back in his chair.
A few minutes in, he leaned in once more. “Are these nations mentioned real Earth realm places?
“Yup.”
“And are they still at war with each other?’
“No. This depicts World War I, which ended a century ago.” Thank you, Mr. Shaw, the only interesting history teacher to walk the planet.
“What about—”
“Shhh.”
“Zurie, no one is here.”
“Yes, but you’re not supposed to talk over movies.”
Verrill twisted in his seat, facing me, raven-black waves falling over one shoulder. “Zurie, I thought the point of dating was to get to know your companion.”
“It is.”
“Then why have you brought me to a dark room where we cannot speak to each other?”
“I guess I didn’t think that one through. Do you want to go?”
He nodded and we left the old theater.
Verrill tucked me under his arm once again, and we walked along the tree-lined street of the historic part of the city, cobblestone paths and antique shops adding a splendid sprinkling of charm.
“The lights in the trees remind me of the Shadow Realm during festival season.”
I gazed up at the Shadow King. “Tell me about it.”
“Every year we hold a festival celebrating the longest night of the season. We string lights from every house, every tree, every thing capable of holding the spell, as a reminder that light follows darkness.”
“That sounds lovely. I’d love to see it one day.”
Verrill gave me a small smile which at its core wasn’t a smile at all but the countenance of grief. “Maybe once we’ve dealt with the Blood King we’ll have celebrations again.”
I wrapped my arms around his lean waist and squeezed my Shadow King close.
“Would you like me to show you?”
I eyed him.
“No need to worry. I’ll make it one-way, my love. Though I can’t promise I won’t peek at the bits of your mind that concern me.” He smirked, eyes alight with the thought of what he might find hiding in my thoughts.
“I’m serious, Verrill. No snooping.”
His tone softened, eyes clear of the playful twinkle. “You have my word, my queen.”
I gave him a stiff nod, and we found a nearby bench.
“May I have your hand?”
The moment our skin touched, amber scented magic descended around me, warming me, bringing a smile to my face and a flush to my cheeks.
“Hurry along Verrill, or you’ll miss the lighting.”
I—Verrill ran to the street, a glowing ball of magic in his hand as the crowd in the center of town counted down. He gazed up at the night sky, black and velvety and starless, the perfect backdrop for the thousands of twinkling lights strung through the town. When the crowd reached zero, every street, house and tree light, every personal glowing orb, everything that produced the smallest amount of illumination, switched off.
The entire town fell into absolute darkness.
No one spoke. No one moved.
Dancing across the sky, a streak of brilliant purple, pink, and orange light, twisted and spiraled from horizon to horizon, like a strange, sentient Aurora Borealis.
“What is that?” I asked, gaze still focused inward at the spectacle in the velvet sky of the Shadow Realm.
Verrill wrapped his arms around me from behind, enveloping me in a full body hug. “Magic,” he breathed into my ear.
Verrill withdrew his memory and as it receded, a warm buzz tingled throughout my body.
“I was a child when the last Light Festival took place. Shortly after, Lillith gave herself back to the hold, giving the Blood King access to more power and plunging the realms into disarray. We haven’t held a festival since.” He paused, turning to gaze into my eyes, warmth and magic aglow in his. “I suspect the Shadow Realm will hold one soon, in your honor.”
I ignored the last bit of sentiment. “You were alive during the time of Lillith?”
He nodded. “I’m one of the oldest remaining demons. Most from my time were lost in the wars. The only demon with more years than I is the Blood King himself.”
I didn’t have a hard time believing that. Of all my leaders, Verrill was the most reserved, the most traditional. I’d attributed those qualities to part of his personality but being centuries older than I expected fit too.
As we walked along the street, twinkling lights setting a warm glow to the shops and pedestrians, I asked a question that until that moment, hadn’t occurred to me. “I must seem like a child to you—young and stupid and naïve.”
The Shadow King laughed, long and full, the melodic sound gentle, lifting my spirits instead of deflating. He stopped where he stood to meet my eyes. “It’s true if you were a demon, you’d be but a child in your adolescence. But you are not a demon, Zurie, you are human. Human lifespans are so compressed, so condensed that only the bare essentials remain. The byproduct is you mature before our children have completed their education.” He grazed a thumb down my cheek. “And I’d wager your childhood forced you to reach maturity far quicker than even most humans.
“All the leaders carry a large dose of ennui, clinging to us like a second skin. Rather hard to avoid when you measure time in centuries. I can’t speak for all of us, but I know you’ve enlivened me. You’ve brought fresh ideas and perspectives free from the tarnish of lifetimes of bad blood and old wounds.
“No, Zurie. You don’t seem young or stupid or naïve. You’re the reprieve from a life of bored complacency. You are the answer to my unspoken prayer.
“You are everything I dared dream of in a mate.”
My mouth fell slightly open as the warmth in his eyes seeped into my skin like it carried substance, weight.
I hadn’t expected that. Maybe a line about the prophecy choosing me or a light scolding to think better of myself.
But an admission that I was a dream come true?
I kissed him. Right there in the middle of the street. Soft, tentative at first, building until lips and tongues and hands ran down backs and through hair—this was no chaste, fleeting kiss.
I pulled away panting, fevered, desperate.
If we’d been alone….
“I can shimmer us back to my room.” Verrill’s offer tempted me, as did the lust in his gravelly voice and the heavy pressure between my thighs.
Despite the people who might see, I almost said yes. But it wasn’t the muggles who stopped me.
“It’s already past midnight. If we show up late to practice tomorrow, or worse, if we’re sluggish, Jadzeera will literally kick our asses.”
Verrill rumbled out a low groan.
“You know I’m right.”
He pressed against me, body curving around each dip and plane as the hardness straining against his jeans pushed into my hip. “Yes, but being right doesn’t make this any easier,” he whispered against my ear.
Against every primal instinct urging me to continue, against the hammering pulse in my neck, and the longing between my thighs, I stepped away from the Shadow King.
I didn’t want to get arrested for banging in public.
He smirked. “Suit yourself. It will only be that much more savage when we do come together.”