Page 40 of Inevitably Yves

Yves smiles as his eyes soften and he pushes my cocktail closer. “They are delicious though.”

Lifting the glass to my lips, I take a taste but keep my eyes trained on Yves. An explosion of sweetness bursts on my tongue, like the freshest summer berries. Peaches too, maybe.

“Right?” Yves says, licking his lips. “So good.”

The liquid in the glass shimmers and swirls on its own. “What else is in it?”

“A little blood from my reserves, collected on my travels. A bit of potion from Vivienne meant to keep the more feral instincts of our patrons at bay.” He smiles. “And then whatever alcohol Tiago added.”

“Tiago is not part of your coven?”

“No.” Yves leans back, sliding his arm along the booth. “He just came to town looking for a place to settle and requested my permission. It was good timing since we were in talks to secure this building for Lair. All of us on the council liked his energy, so we extended an offer of managing the club to him. He prefers to be behind the bar, so Hale has naturally stepped up to manage the front of house more, and Tiago handles the back. It’s a good match.”

Just a few seconds later, Paolo returns, his suit disheveled, eyes glassy, and fangs out. He smells of blood and sex and his energy is far more settled than it was earlier in the night.

“I love this place,” he says as he drops into a seat beside Yves.

We all laugh in response.

Hours later, we lie tangled together in Yves’s bed to catch a few hours of rest before facing whatever tomorrow brings us. I’m full in so many ways, and happier than I’ve been in centuries.

Yves is actually asleep, his breathing imperceptible to the mortal ear, but it lulls me close to the edge of sleep myself. It brings me great joy that he’s so comfortable with me still.

My eyelids grow heavy, and just as I’m about to give in, a commotion from outside the apartment startles me upright. Yves is jolted awake too.

“What is that?” I ask.

Yves is out of bed and sliding into sweatpants before I finish the sentence. I scramble to follow, throwing my trousers on behind him.

When we enter the common area, Syn and Bowie are standing with a young man who looks to be in pretty bad shape. Another door opens and Thorn hurries out.

“Greer,” Thorn says. “Gods, what happened to you?”

“You know him?” Syn asks.

“I do.”

“We found him beating on the door downstairs, calling Thorn’s name,” Syn explains.

Bowie is holding Greer’s hand, rubbing it. “What happened, Greer?” Bowie asks in his soft voice.

He opens his hand, clutching what appears to be a business card. Thorn kneels while Kyson, wrapped in a pink floral robe, looks on, concerned.

“You told me to find you if something really bad ever happened,” Greer whispers.

“Yeah, man,” Thorn says. “You found me.”

“I…I’m sorry I didn’t call. I lost my phone and—” His voice breaks on a sob.

“Oh goodness.” Kyson hurries off.

“Get him to the couch,” Yves says. “He needs to sit.”

We follow Syn and Bowie as they help Greer. The poor man is covered in bruises and cuts, and there’s something very off and disconcerting about his scent.

I turn to Yves, who nods in acknowledgment of my thoughts. Kyson returns with a glass of cool water and a washcloth.

“Viv is on the way over,” Eros says as he joins us.

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