Once Bitten (Shadow Guild: The Rebel 1)

A bit of warmth flared to life inside me. More possible friends? The witches were kind of iffy, but that was cool.

Not to mention the magic. That part, I certainly didn’t hate. It filled the air here, sparking off people as they partied and drank.

Though it was almost dawn, the party was still heaving. People danced, so many of them that the crush of bodies was nearly impossible to navigate. All around, revelers with horns and fangs and wings danced the night away, living their best life. Like it was normal that they existed.

Which it was.

Thank God it was.

My life had been in black and white, and now it finally felt like it was in color.

We were almost to the foyer when a hand grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. I spun around, instinct making me ready to lash out.

A small woman held me, her grip shockingly strong for someone her size. Her face seemed to flicker between age and youth, a shimmery apparition that was hard to focus on. She was beautiful in either version—I just wanted her to pick one.

Her eyes burned with pale fire as she stared hard at me, her brow creased. I felt Mac appear at my side, but I couldn’t turn away. The woman’s gaze had me snared.

The crowd parted to give us space. No one turned to watch us, but there was something about the woman’s presence that made them give her a wide berth.

“Yes,” she said softly. “You are as I expected.”

“What?” I frowned down at her.

“You are the one who will thaw him.”

“Thaw who?”

“She’s not a Fire Mage,” Mac said.

The woman ignored her, leaning up to peer more closely into my eyes. “Be wary, girl. You are bound to the Devil, and you may grow to like it, but there is danger there. Grave danger.”

“Bound?” Was she talking about the Devil of Darkvale?

“Like, Fated Mates?” Mac demanded. “Impossible.”

“Yes, impossible,” the woman said. “Turned vampires do not have Fated Mates like born vampires do. But turned vampires like the Devil—the immortal ones—have Cursed Mates. Beware. It could cost you your life.”

“What the heck?” Cursed mates?

The woman let go of my arm and disappeared.

Like, really disappeared, right into thin air.

Shit, shit, shit. I didn’t like any of this. I didn’t understand it. And I didn’t want to believe it.

But there was no denying everything I’d seen in the last twenty-four hours. Magic was real, and it had me in its grip.

I looked up at Mac. “Cursed mates?”

“Never heard of it.”

I shrugged I off, not liking the sound of it. “Who the hell was that, anyway?”

“We call her the Oracle, but no one knows for certain. She’s the most powerful seer in the city—way more powerful than me. She’s lived here for centuries.”

“Yeah, her face was…” I waved my hand in front of my own and made an expression that suggested nuts.

“I don’t know what that is, either. But let’s get out of here.” She tugged my arm, and I followed her, head spinning.