The pounding music makes conversation all but impossible, and the combination of dim lights and black lights makes it hard for even a dark fae to see. But, even with the mingled smells of honey ale, whiskey, and perfume filling the air, I can smell you. It’s a smell I don’t recognize. The scent of flowers is strong, mixed with the smell of earth, which is to be expected from a fae creature. But you also smell musky, and strangely, of fire. Why would a light fae smell of fire?
My eyes scan the bar, searching. It’s not the succubus in the high heels and black leather, although my dick gives a small jump at the sight of her. Succubi smell of sex, but not flowers. You’re nowhere near the front of the bar.
I pick up my drink and walk slowly through the dark, peering into the corners. At this point I’m not even pretending I’m not hunting. I know you know I’m here. I pull back a curtain to see two light fae and a faun tangled up in each other. Any other time I’d lend a hand, but tonight I’m busy. I sniff the air and can tell I’m getting close. And then you’re there.