Marie shouldered her way towards him, her graceful movements making you want to simply watch her. She lifted the pot out of Ravi’s hands and began pouring the mugs, stirring sigils into each one.
No one could resist the scent of caffeine this early in the morning, but Dimitri held me in place, imploring me silently to simply watch.
Marie palmed off the first mug to Maxine, and I knew by the tilt of her head that she was smiling and something foul was about to spill from her lips.
“Sigils can’t change the character of a person, Marie, you know that. Thank you for the coffee, though, even if it is solely due to the caffeine that I become marginally nicer.”
Marie rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath in French as she handed out various mugs to our mixed group of people.
Once each person had a mug, Marie directed us to the box of beignets that sat atop the table. We crowded around the kitchen as a unit, devouring our breakfast in a way that was both comfortable and peaceful, and I was struck by how much people often underestimated the power of the Hearth Witch, when only a few moments ago Brenna and Maxine were prepared to rip each other’s throats out.
We had debated and argued over the location for over an hour, finally settling on the burlesque club. It was owned by the Bratva, it was secure, and it was both a public place that offered every modicum of privacy.
That was how I found myself seated at one of the large round tables at the club with smoke curling at my feet. Deja vu shivered through me, but the difference was that this time I was here with my Club - on my terms.
Soon after we were offered refreshments, Nina seated herself at the table, her blonde sweeping locks and sweetheart face at odds with the venomous persona that lay beneath.
"Dimitri asked me to meet with you to go over the traditional Russian wedding ceremonies that you will be expected to uphold." The first time I had met Nina she did not seem like one for small talk, and her opening simply confirmed what I already knew. Her gaze darted to the ring on my finger, and I watched in growing satisfaction as her lip curled up in distaste.
"This is Nina." I ignored her attempt to control the conversation and instead introduced her to the table.
Her gaze took in the Witches seated before her, and I watched as she seemed to tick each one of us off as a non-threat. We stilled as one body, and if her instincts were working, she would have detected us sharpening our claws beneath the table. But she didn't seem to notice, her survival skills buried so deep beneath the powder and foundation that graced her face.
"You're a dancer, right?" Max's voice was a purr of seduction, but the way she tilted her head reminded of a crow about to devour its prey.
Nina glared at her, unwilling to give an inch.
"Corinne told us you're a ballerina - isn't that correct?" Maxine pressed, pretending to be wholly interested in Nina's dancing.
"I am associated with the Russian Ballet company here in America." Nina offered stiffly.
Maxine nodded enthusiastically, and I managed to hold in my grunt of amusement. Marie hid an eyeroll, and Brenna's gaze did not waver off of Nina for a second.
"That's interesting." Max shot her a bland look, and I couldn't decide if I wanted her to take the bait or not.
"And why's that?" Nina straightened in her chair as she flicked her long golden locks over her shoulder in a way that would have made Emily Rand proud, had Emily been her mother.
"Because I'm a dancer myself."
I glared at Maxine. Really? We're going with that?
"In fact, there is a lot of ballet in the dancing that I participate in. You should swing by and watch us sometime."
Marie snorted, covering it up with a sneeze, and for once, Brenna didn't look like she wanted to murder Maxine. She looked as if she was about to smile.
Nina shifted in her chair. Not wanting to be rude, she finally relented. "Of course." Her smile was strained. "You must tell me when you are performing, and I will be sure to swing by."
I held my breath, wanting to desperately hide my face as Maxine answered, her expression one of quiet amusement.
"Sure." She shrugged. "I'm there every Friday, the place is called Candy Apples."
Nina's gaze narrowed on Maxine. "Not like this -"
Maxine shook her head, interrupting whatever Nina had been about to say. "Oh no - not like this." And then Maxine smiled a shy, coy smile. "We wear much less clothing than the girls here."
Nina gasped, and I watched anger flush across her face.
"Right." I snapped, drawing her attention to me. "Enough of that. I'm here to understand more about the ceremonies…"
Her blue gaze met mine, and this time they weren't simply filled with disdain. Instead, hate and fury glossed her vision.
I smiled politely at her. It was best she learnt who was in charge early in this relationship.