Witch For Hire (Witch For Hire 1) - Page 97

“It keeps you young.”

“I want everyone who smells you to know your mine.” He nuzzles my neck.

I shiver. “Do we have to?”

“I want you,” he nips at my skin, “to say yes,” nibbles with his teeth, and sucks, “because you want it.” His teeth graze my flesh. Heat floods my body. I squirm. “Do you want that, dove? To let me inside of you? To take me down … let me nourish you?”

I lick my lips. What would it be like to drink him for pleasure instead of a necessity? My mouth waters at the memory of his rich, sweet flavor. “Yes.”

He bites into his wrist and holds it to my lips. I latch on, sucking as he sinks his fangs into me. I whimper at the slight twinge of pain before the pleasure explodes inside of me like a rocket. He takes a long draw, and I moan as I swallow and suck. Every pull touches something deep inside, pushing me to the edge, until I topple over, a quivering mess. He releases me, laps the last drops of blood, and seals the holes. I lick my lips clean, and he groans.

“If it was anything but the equinox …”

I can’t help but chuckle. There’s something about Cristobal on the edge of breaking the rules that gets to me.

“I have a dress to fix, and we have waves to make, people to piss off and intimidate.”

“You are learning,” Cristobal purrs with a smile.

I frown. “I don’t think that’s a compliment.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll always be the most human of us all.” There’s something prophetic in his word that can’t be chased away with his sweet kiss on my forehead. He steps back and straightens his clothing, and I fix my dress, readying myself for the upheaval we’re about to cause.

***

I hold his hand tighter as we descend the grand staircase and I try to ignore the people starring up at us from the bottom. Everywhere I look, people dressed in their finest stand with glasses of champagne and a variety of expressions or lack thereof on their face

“My guest of honor has arrived. You’ll excuse her fashionably late entrance. She had business to attend.”

“I didn’t realize you paraded your paramours around and gave them false titles,” Etta purrs. She’s stunning in a low cut black sequined gown that trails out behind her in a small train. The shapely leg, exposed through the slit in the dress, is emphasized in a pair of thin stilettos. Clutched in her blood red talons is a flute full of expensive champagne.

“Can I please put her in her place?”

His laughter sounds in my head. “Not yet.”

“It would be a shame for you to get off on the wrong foot with my bondmate. I assure you, her bite is far worse than her bark.”

Her eyes get comically wide. “That can’t be.”

“And yet it is,” I answer. My days of remaining silent are over.

“Is this supposed to be a joke?” She scoffs. “You’re an Esçhete. We all know how pure that line is.”

“Is she slow? I thought she’d be much wiser for someone her age.”

Etta hisses. She rushes toward me, and I grin as I set the hem of her dress on fire. She screams, stopping in her tracks to stomp it out.

“That’s for the insult and disrespect.” I open my palm and green flame dances wildly. “This is for the demonstration. Cristobal?”

He opens his palm, and a blue flame appears doing an identical dance. We move in tandem, opening our opposite hand.

Your move.

These are you people. What will impress them? I yield control, and gasp as the fire streams up from our palms, merging to form a turquoise hue that spreads across the ceiling like a backdraft. The rolling clouds are blinding. But they don’t so much as singe a thing. The vampires crane their necks to watch. I can sense their emotions—shock, fear, anger, and wariness. It rolls over the crowd, permeating it like a scent. Cristobal pulls the power back, reining it in seamlessly. It’s unheard of, a witch and a vampire bonding, let alone being able to share powers.

“My Court has its Queen, and I will see her treated as such.” His voice holds power and the promise of violence. “Please, enjoy our hospitality tonight. This is a celebration of new beginnings.” Luz hands us both glasses of champagne. Cristobal raises his. “To new friendships and old.” We toast, eyeing the crowd of people watching our every move. It’s disconcerting knowing your enemies are sprinkled among your friends. He holds my hand, and we descend into the madness.

“Is it normal to feel like I’m center stage in a three-ring circus?” I whisper to Luz.

Tags: Shyla Colt Witch For Hire Paranormal
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