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He exhaled roughly. “I need a leaf blower,” he muttered. “But for people.”
“That’s called a flamethrower, Tallak.” Hazel bit her lip as if to hide a grin. “And it’s kind of frowned upon to actually use it on people.”
“I’d barely even roast them. Just scare them a little.” He pursed his lips, an idea rising in his mind. “Oh, this is good.”
“What is?”
The next moment, a shriek split the air, then another, followed by a scream. Movement started in the line, the crowd dispersing. People were stumbling into one another in their haste to run away. A full-blown panic took hold of the crowd, the humans scattering like a flock of surprised birds.
Ten seconds later, the space in front of the club was empty. Everybody, including the club’s bouncer, had fled. A lonely newspaper page fluttered in the wind, the sounds of running footsteps receding from the street in all directions. Tallak and Hazel were the only ones left.
His witch turned to him with indignation sparking in her eyes. “What did you do?”
“Me?” He laid a hand on his heart. “Why, I’d never.”
“I felt demon magic. That was you.”
He sighed and steered her toward the club’s door. “The line was too fucking long. I didn’t bring you here for us to wait outside for hours. So I just used some of the nightmare powers of the lilu I killed to make everyone feel like they really needed to get the fuck out of here.”
“Tallak,” Hazel hissed.
“Oh, come on. It’ll wear off in a few minutes, and they’ll all be right as rain, with no idea why they scrambled.”
“Still,” she grumbled. “It’s an unethical use of your powers.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
He held the door for her and followed her inside, where he made sure to beat her to paying for the entry fee. The bloke sitting behind the counter clearly had no idea that his bouncer and the rest of the people outside had fled the scene. See? No harm, no foul.
The deep bass of the music thumped through his bones as he ushered Hazel into the club proper. He actually recognized this song from before his time in the fae dungeon, from when he’d still roamed Portland before falling for a wandering fae princess. It seemed like ages ago. He’d been young and careless, blissfully unaware of what the next two decades would hold in store for him.
If he were back in that time, with the knowledge of today, would he change anything? Would he not go with Roana, knowing that path would lead him to rot in a moldy cell for twenty-six years?
The memory of Basil flashed before his inner eye, his sunny smile—so much like his mother’s—his face a mirror image of Tallak’s own features, his light so bright that it warmed even the darkest places in Tallak’s battered soul. His love for Tallak, undeserved, unearned, and yet given unconditionally, was probably the most shocking, least expected gift Tallak had ever received.
He’d come to Basil as an absentee father with no claim to his affection, nothing to show for two decades of lost time but an eagerness to prove himself, and Basil had just welcomed him with open arms. As if he was worth it.
His heart clenched.
No, he would not change a damn fucking thing.
If he’d known then what he knew now, he’d still have followed Roana to his fate without altering his path. Some things were worth suffering for.
Like a son who lit up his life, whom he was so damn proud of…despite not having contributed to raising him in the least.
His gaze fell on the witch who walked in front of him, her hips swaying to the rhythm of the music. The witch who’d pretty much single-handedly raised his son into an amazing man and had given Basil a foundation of love and care when Tallak had been shackled to a cold stone floor.
The female he’d sworn to make his.
One more thing he wouldn’t change for the world. If he hadn’t stumbled into the dangerous world of the fae, hadn’t ended up in that fucking dungeon, his son switched out for a witch child as a changeling…he’d never have met Hazel.
Yeah, some things were worth suffering for.
He laid his hand possessively on the small of her back as they moved through the crowd. Her muscles were tight under his palm, her posture a bit stiff, wariness threaded into her movements. She kept looking around with an air of uncertainty, hesitancy, despite fitting into the crowd perfectly fine. More than fine. She was the prettiest fucking thing in here.
Apparently, though, Hazel’s long break from partying had made her self-conscious and inhibited. Well, that wouldn’t do.
“I’m going to get us some drinks,” he said into her ear to make sure she heard him over the loud music. He scanned the dark room, irregularly illuminated by flashing strobe lights in various colors. A few tables in booths hugged the walls on either side, each one occupied by people nursing their drinks. “Wait for me over there,” he added and pointed at one of the booths.
