Shadowglass: The Shadowfae Chronicles - By Erica Hayes Page 0,3
and I felt better. I had nothing to hide. She sniffed, wiping snot on my shoulder. “I wish I was like you, Ice. You’re the sensible one.”
I thought of Blaze’s tongue in my ear and giggled. “Yeah, that’s me: sense, dense, intense. Dripping out my ears, it is. Of course you wanna be me. Why wouldn’t you? You’re only the prettiest, cleverest girl in the whole world.”
She kissed me, a sugary taste of sky-blue lips, and gamely wiped her tears away in green streaks. “You’re nice. Let’s get drunk and find some boys.”
Meaning she’d get prettily tipsy, I’d get smashed, she’d find more boys than she had hands for, and I’d get the leftovers who were too plain to interest her and too shitfaced to care she was a hundred times more beautiful than me. But what are best friends for?
“Yes yes yes.” I paid for two more drinks, and we clinked glasses and chugged. Sugar and alcohol burst into my brain like flares, and my nose fizzed.
Azure gasped. “Raspberries and ice cream. More.”
“Careful, there’s a fairyslasher on the loose.”
She snorted. “S’always a fairyslasher. More.”
I ordered more, and we chugged again. This time the froth did come out my nose, laced with plummy drug-charmed mirth. I laughed, splurting pink bubbles onto the guy next to me. “Whoa. Sorry, dude.” I yanked up my skirt hem to wipe his arm clean, but the frills were too short. My heels skidded from under me, and I landed in his lap in a giggling, spluttering heap.
Oops. I craned my neck up to apologize, and my laughter strangled.
Not again.
Dark blue skin dusted with copper, so smooth and perfect, it’s unreal. Black hair so crisp, it curled jagged. Eyes the velvety gray of softened steel. Long narrow wings like silver-shot glass.
My senses tumbled, intoxicated in hot metal scent. Warm midnight blue hands steadied me, and my belly melted inside like chocolate fudge sauce on ice cream, running everywhere. I inhaled, molten iron and hot fairy skin. . . .
Fluid scorched into my wing veins, swelling them tight. I held my breath. Calm, Ice. He’s touching you. You’ve practically got your face in his lap. Say something really cool and seductive.
“Oh. Um. Hi, Indigo. It’s me.”
Yeah. That so wasn’t it.
Effortlessly, Indigo lifted me to my feet. Rusty wing-glitter shimmered warm on my shoulders. His coppery claws grazed my wrist, and tiny electric shocks crackled up my arms, sparking my diamonds blue.
I stared, my fingerpads itching. He wore black, as usual, jeans and a sleeveless shirt that showed off lean blue arms.
I wanted to rub my cheek against them, tickle my tongue along his biceps. Metalfae are usually twisted, hunchbacked little monsters with razor metal teeth and an attitude. Indigo—well, he’s tall and sculpted and moves light, like a cat burglar, but he’s still got razor metal teeth and an attitude. Licking is strictly off-limits, especially for a no-account geek girl like me.
He surveyed me back, steely eyes cool. “Nice diamonds.”
His dark quicksilver voice broke my skin out in bumps. I tugged my skirt shyly down over my butt, my skin zinging all over under his scrutiny. My tank top was splashed with pink drink, and my nipples poked the wet fabric, painfully visible. I caught myself fiddling with my hair and yanked my hand away, embarrassment squirming inside. I so wanted to be like Azure, elegant and gorgeous, instead of gangly and yellow and pointy-nosed like me.
At least I had a shiny score to impress him with. Not that it’d impress him much. He was the real deal, Indigo. Not just a petty con artist. I wanted to be him when I grew up. “What? Oh, yeah, thanks. They’re not mine. You like ’em?”
He gave me a dark silver-fanged smile, and my tongue tingled. Like candies, Indigo’s smiles. Make your mouth water, but you only get one when you’ve been a very good girl. Probably rot your teeth, too.
He tinkled a copper claw along my glittering bracelets. “Pretty. They suit you.”
My cheeks sizzled at his compliment. “Yeah? Wow. I mean . . . Thanks, you look great, too. I mean, not that you don’t always look gr . . . Well, that is. You look well.” Shit.
Indigo brushed pink froth from lean denim-clad thighs, electricity arcing between his fingers.
Great. Not only had I snorted my drink on him, but I’d spilled his as well. Metalfae rust, doncha know. Good job, Ice. Well done. “Sorry ’bout the drink. I’ll get you another one—”