Page 2 of Gemini Wicked

He’s more than one of my seven mates. More than the holy terror of the Icarus Academy. He’s the Scorpio scion of the whole witching world. Which means he’s got connections in the fashion world from New York to Milan. He basically dresses both of us for these fancy-shmancy parties.

“Besides,” I murmur, all low and sultry, because just the sight of him makes my tummy flutter, “I’m pretty sure the real center of attention on that yacht tonight’s gonna be you, bad boy. Same as always.”

My appreciation triggers one of his sexy growls. “Hmmm. Just the way I like it.”

No doubt about it. He’s rocking that skinny violet tux, flown in and expertly tailored to fit his tall slim frame, like nobody’s business. His dangerous eyes hide behind the violet frames of his fashionable rock-star spectacles, his cruel mouth glitters with a slick of pale lip gloss, and the ocean breeze flirts with his gilded mop of punk-rock hair.

Yowsa.

I’m literally shacking up with the warlock equivalent of David Bowie.

Among others.

And, despite those stalkerazzi pics of me and my guys popping up left and right in The Witching Inquisitor, this bad boy’s never minded being filmed.

Unlike me.

Under my admiring eyes, Vasili gives a sultry smirk for the news cams and preens on the dive boat bench like the sexy-pretty diva he is.

“Hey, you’re the birthday girl.” On my other side, Neo’s big warm hand lands on my naked knee and gives a gentle squeeze. “They’re all here for you tonight, babe.”

Neo Mercury’s my fated mate.

More than any of my warlocks, he always knows what I’m feeling.

Now I meet his earnest green eyes, shining down at me through the stylish frames of his bookworm spectacles, with his soft purple curls all wind-tossed around his cleancut face. His broad shoulders and chest fill his crisp white tux to perfection, and his lavender bow tie complements his hair.

For his sake, to keep him from worrying, I dredge up another smile. I swear, he’s too good for me. And not just because he’s First Boy on the Dean’s List. With him, I’m mated to the Clark Kent of the witching world.

That’s how honest and sweet and good he is.

“Sorry, baby.” I cover his hand with mine. “That latest batch of Inquisitor pics has me all on edge. I’m not used to living my life in the spotlight like you are. You’re a senator’s son. I’m a fucking cat burglar—”

“A reformed cat burglar,” Lucius murmurs.

My wolf shifter headmaster’s sitting quietly across the way, so close that our knees are brushing. With his vintage tux, imperial purple ascot, and Hungarian accent, Lucius Aries is pure Old World aristocrat. His keen eyes are hidden behind John Lennon sunglasses, Renaissance curls sleeked in a tidy knot away from his wary face.

Did I mention I’m also mated to the young and dapper Gary Oldman version of Bram Stoker’s Dracula?

Especially when his fangs drop.

Racetrack swerves hard to avoid a daredevil speedboat that roars past out of nowhere. Sweet Jesus. We just barely escaped a head-on collision that makes Neo gasp and Dez yelp.

“I swear to fuck, Z.” Racetrack scowls after the speeding moron. “These media sharks are gonna get you killed.”

“We’ll have to become accustomed to attracting attention. Both with and without our consent.” Now Lucius is all growly, thanks to that barely averted threat, but he makes the effort and retracts his fangs. He’s an intensely private guy, and I know he’s no happier than I am about having his naked ass plastered across that scandal sheet, all wolfed out and madly fucking five of his own students (including me).

Thanks to our poly relationship—now openly exposed to the whole witching world—he’s barely hanging onto his job. Which is one he treasures.

He definitely doesn’t need The Inquisitor rubbing the Dean’s nose in it.

“That’s bullshit. I’m not gonna have your privacy violated like that.” I lean forward to grip his hands, all hard and callused from running wild on all fours when he shifts, and gaze fiercely into his eyes. “Not on my account.”

“We accepted that kind of attention, all of us, when we mated you.” His fingers tighten around mine with a reassuring squeeze. “The Gemini queen.”

“Queen in waiting.” I glare as a chopper roars past like a gunship, strafing us with an arsenal of telephoto lenses that bristle through the open doors. “And we’re not even officially mated yet. How much worse is this gonna be for you once we are?”

“We’ve all made our choice, Zara.” Lucius gives my hands a firm squeeze to ground me. “My dear, we’ve chosen you. We’ve chosen us. We’ve chosen all of us.”

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