Opening my senses fully, I peel her glamour away, realizing immediately she’s fae because she has no aura. I try not to stare as she’s quite beautiful and not all that inhuman looking. Her skin is much paler and appears as if it’s been dusted with crushed diamonds. Her eyes remain the same shape, tilting upward at the outer corner just a tad too much, but they’re filled with what looks like liquid silver where the whites of human eyes would be. She has definitive irises of verdant green. Her hair is as black as midnight, and it falls almost to the middle of her back. She’s thin and delicate, and I almost laugh in delight when she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear to find that it’s pointed at the top.
Is she an elf? Is that even a thing?
Mesmerized, I watch as she talks to a human male companion, wondering if fae and humans have love affairs. I haven’t thought about that until now, but I suppose it’s a possibility. Her companion says something to make her laugh, and my romantic side is fully invested in this couple until she laughs, and razor-sharp teeth are revealed. Not just where her canines are, but every single tooth is conical and pointy, graying slightly at the gum line.
“Better close your mouth before something flies in it.” It’s a deep, sophisticated voice I’ve come to recognize and with dismay, I realize it sometimes causes my skin to tingle.
Twisting, I see Carrick standing there looking unbelievably dashing in a black tuxedo with a white tie. His eyes flick to the fae I’d been looking at and then back to me. “She’s not the type to bite people, but she does eat raw meat and thus the reason for the sharp teeth.”
I can’t help whipping my head her way. It’s such a sudden move that it catches her attention. She gives me a tentative smile, and I force myself not to stare at her teeth. Instead, I motion to her gown. “I was just telling my date how much I love your dress.”
The woman tilts her head, her smile now warm. “Oh, thank you. It’s Givenchy.”
“Just stunning,” I assure her with a nod before turning back to Carrick. Leaning slightly into him, I whisper, “Will I ever stop being stunned at what I see?”
To my surprise, he chuckles, and I soak in the sound of natural laughter from him. It’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh in a way that wasn’t forced or didn’t have some condescension in it. It’s one of the most human things he’s done, and it’s disconcerting to say the least.
He shakes his head. “Sorry… but you’ve not seen a lot of Dark Fae. There are some pretty hideous creatures out there. You need to work on your poker face.”
He has a point. Turning away from him, I scan the crowd. “So, what exactly is this event?”
“It’s an auction for rare antiquities. Some of them have magical properties, so that’s why there’s going to be some fae in attendance, hoping to come into possession of something.”
“Don’t they already have magic?” I ask.
“Talk to any fae,” he murmurs sardonically. “You’ll never find one who doesn’t want more power.”
I open my senses again, specifically seeking out the dark vibes that give me anxiety. “I’m not sensing anything dark here.”
Carrick’s gaze moves around the room in a fast sweep. “I don’t see any Dark Fae.”
This does not surprise me. He can see beneath glamours as he had no problem realizing the woman in the alley was a succubus. Nor did he have problems identifying supernaturals in that bar he took me to. In essence, he has the same ability as me to see past veils. Yet, he’s repeatedly said he’s never seen a “human” have that ability.
This means he is distinctly not human, a fact I’ve just decided to accept. A mystery I’m determined to figure out.
But for now, I don’t even bother asking what he is. I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve asked, and I’m never given anything straight. It’s why I’m eager to meet and perhaps get to know other creatures who may be more open with me.
Of course, I still have to be careful. Carrick’s warning to me night before last when I trained with Titus still rings in my ears. I could easily be a target for both Dark and Light Fae if they knew of my abilities.
“The dress fits you well,” Carrick says, and once again, my head whips in the opposite way of the toothsome fae.
He stares down at me, face impassive.
I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or just a conversation filler. I think it might be more of a compliment to himself since he—or Zaid—picked it out.
I let my gaze drift back over the room. “Yes. Everything fit perfectly. Thank you.”