Crimson Veil by Yasmine Galenorn

Author:Yasmine Galenorn [Galenorn, Yasmine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Penguin Group US
Published: 2014-01-28T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

The Blackthorn neighborhood of Belles-Faire wasn’t exactly run-down, but it had a wild, thorny feel to it. The houses were hidden behind tangled vegetation, thick hedges, and overgrown ferns. They weren’t dilapidated per se, just mysterious and hidden. The area had become a haven for both Fae and Supes. Truth was, most of the Supe Community—and the Fae—felt more comfortable around others of their kind. Which was why the spate of vampire apartments going up were so popular. Wade, the leader of Vampires Anonymous, lived in the Shrouded Grove Suites—a tower of condos specifically designed for vamps. And there were at least two more condo towers going up.

When it came down to it, there was still a great deal of segregation going on among Supes and FBHs… but then again, there was a great deal of self-segregation as well. It would be a long time before the races were intermingling in a comfortable fashion, but overall, I thought we were doing pretty well. Change didn’t happen overnight, but what mattered was that people made the attempt.

The streetlights shaded the street with a yellowish light, which highlighted the rain as it slashed down. Swirls of smoke rose from brick chimneys as we drove down the street. The wind caught them up, whipping them round and round before being absorbed into the darkened night.

I loved this time of year. Autumn, with its burnished leaves and whistling winds and incessant rains. It was my time—and Camille’s and Delilah’s, too. The time of the vampire and the witch, of the werecat. It was the time of ghosts and spirits and our goblin menaces—all sorts of bogies in the night.

Camille made a left turn, easing into the parking lot in the Rosecross MiniMall. There was a supermarket here—a QFC—and Bartells, a drugstore. A pizza joint, a Pad Thai noodle place, a small bakery—Seattle Supe Cupcakes—a dry cleaners, a yoga studio, a satellite branch of the King County Library System, and—of course—Starbucks.

As we dashed out of the car and into the coffeehouse, trying to dodge the stinging drops that splattered hard and heavy against us, I glanced up at the sky. Once again, the roiling cloud cover made me think of Elqaneve. While I hadn’t been out in the storm proper, Delilah and Camille had described it so vividly that I could all too easily imagine what it had been like. Hell on Otherworld.

Once inside, Camille glanced around, then headed toward a table near the restrooms. A pale, tall Fae sat there. His hair was the color of spun platinum, and his eyes frosty blue—almost mirroring my own.

He stood, clicking his heels and giving us a short bow. “Thank you for coming.” His accent was thick—Germanic to a degree, but more exotic, with a hint of the ancient woods lingering in his voice.

Camille got herself one of her mega-lattes, and Kitten bought hot chocolate. Trillian opted for a cup of tea. As we gathered round the table, the Black Forest Fae sat back, toying with his coffee cup.

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