Brush of Darkness by Allison Pang Read Free Book Online Page B

magics Moira employed, the Door only appeared at midnight in the courtyard behind the bookstore, the frame gleaming silvery blue against the back wall. The irony of it all was that only a mortal could open it. Yay, me.
    The Marketplace was in full swing this evening. I usually enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the crowd, the strangeness of the pointed ears and feathered wings, goat hooves and lion’s tails. But tonight I couldn’t help but wonder at Brystion’s words, not liking the uncomfortable tingle that tightened around my chest.
    Was it really true? Did they all think I was some kind of idiot? A front for a Protectorate who no longer wished to protect?
    My hands twitched on the counter and I took a deep breath. For all I knew the incubus was a lying piece of shit who was only trying to manipulate me for his own ends.
    And doing a damn good job of it, apparently.
    I eyed the ancient oak door speculatively, wondering if he would show up here as well. Some perverse part of me hoped he would.
    The door chimes rang out and I glanced up, hiding a mild twinge of disappointment when it wasn’t Brystion. Only for a moment though, and then I gave the Gypsy a genuine smile as he sauntered through the doorway. He was one of my regulars. He rarely spoke, leaving anything that needed to be said to the fiery gleam in the almond depths of his eyes.
    He muttered a question in that liquid voice of his, and I shrugged. “It hasn’t come yet, but we’ll be getting a delivery tonight. Might be in there.”
    A wan smile spread across his face as he bowed and made his way to his usual corner in the back of the store. Afew moments later an elegant strain of a mystical Romany czardas wove its way through the room. There was a pause and a near audible sigh from the other patrons as the haunting notes rang out with a distant, secret sorrow. He came here on most delivery nights, searching for an answer that I had no way of giving him.
    I bit my lip and tried to lose myself in the roll of the music, the last of my anger at Brystion sluicing away and leaving me with a hollow ache in my chest. All I could feel was the pain of the recent past. How long had it been since the accident? Eight months? A year?
    Being ageless had a peculiar effect on mortals. The days seemed to slide by, blurring one into the next. I’d lost track of time and it was very disconcerting. It was easy to see why OtherFolk were often so jaded, but that really wasn’t an excuse. Maybe Brystion had been right. If I couldn’t manage to keep myself together for six months, how was I ever going to last seven years?
    The specifics of my Contract were rather clear on that account though. I served Moira in whatever capacity she dictated. In return, I no longer aged. Not quite the same as being immortal, but I’d taken the offer without too much thought.
    There was always a price though. A price I’d have to learn to deal with.
    “How much is this?” A gnarled hand thrust what looked like a pile of loose seaweed in my face. Her knuckles were large, wrinkled tree knobs, but her manicure blazed in a perfect shade of emerald green. The hag’s piggish eyes gleamed at me from beneath a greasy fall of salt-and-pepper hair. She shifted her substantial weight, grunting impatiently.
    “One moment.” I flipped over the lavender tag hanging from the center of the pile. D7 . I searched through myspreadsheet until I found the matching value. “That’s Mermaid’s Tangle. Two coppers a strand.” I did a quick figure in my head as I counted up the strands. “This will be about one gold piece if you buy the whole hank.”
    “Outrageous,” the hag snapped. “What is Moira thinking with these kinds of prices?”
    “I’m sure I don’t know, ma’am,” I said, keeping my voice bland. I was in no rush to piss anyone else off this evening, and I could already tell where this was going. “I’ll be happy to take down your opinions and pass them along.”
    “Excuse me, miss?”
    I