Page 60 of The Blood Witch

JASPER

Frankly, they were lucky no one was killed.

Standing in the wreckage of the dance floor, Jasper couldn’t decide if it were a miracle from the Goddess, or just Fey’s good aim.

Ferus and Mara were already opening the place back up, not that many patrons remained. Jasper couldn’t blame the ones that fled. Few casual club goers are likely to stay at a place where they’d been pushed outside, mid drink, by a pack of Wolves. Even if they had been doing it to save their lives, it was the type of experience that left a bad taste in a customer’s mouth.

By the time Alastair had calmed Fey down, only the regulars had remained waiting outside the club. And a few others Jasper was sure would be new regulars. If the prospect of being ripped to shreds by a powerful Witch, and herded by a giant Wolf Shifter, wasn’t enough to scare you, then it was probably a selling point. Jasper was pretty sure those who had stayed would come back, night after night, chasing that high.

Heading back to the stockroom, Jasper started sorting the boxes he’d picked out, carrying them behind the bar and getting ready to resume his stocking duties. He had to add a few more to the list, cringing as hetook inventory of the bottles Fey had shattered. She couldn’t have aimed a little lower, for the ones on the bottom shelf?

He pulled a few more boxes out, adding them to the stack and noting them on the inventory list. Ferus came up with the idea of constantly updating their inventory lists, and Jasper was pleased at how easily they could keep their stock organized now. The Wolf was a business genius. Who would have thought?

He was almost done when he spotted something in the corner. Something… lacy?

Blood rushed out of Jasper’s head so fast he felt dizzy as he plucked the small piece of fabric from the ground and realized what it was. Fey’s thong, barely more than a slip of lace.

Jasper bit back a groan as he held them. They were soaked, and the scent all over them was intoxicating.

He straightened and walked to the storeroom door. It barely made any noise as he shut it. Leaning back against the closed door, Jasper replayed the scene in his head.

Fey, back arched in ecstasy, as Alastair’s fingers brought her closer and closer to that edge. And Alastair… holding her legs wide open for him to see. Alastair, locking eyes with him, his fingers buried in Fey, his gaze burning hot.

And then he was thinking about Alastair, holding him in place, Fey's arousal on his skin, pressing his body against Jasper’s. Feeling just how hard watching them had gotten him.

Fuck it.

Someone else could tend the bar for a while. Someone else could make the drinks.

Jasper’s breath was quick and erratic as he undid his pants, slipping his hand down to stroke himself.

Chapter 27

FEY

“You don’t have to do this,” Alastair said, looking down at Fey as they stood on the doorstep to his family home. The double doors loomed before them, made of wood so dark it was almost black.

In all her years serving the Crown, all her years of living in the Eternal City, Fey had never set foot in the Vampire district. Few ever had, outside of their own Faction. The Vampires were notoriously secluded, separating their district from the others with tall black iron gates.

She had heard stories of the deSanguine estate, of course—the place all Vampires who lived in the city called home. Every Witch in the realm had heard the stories. But seeing it was another matter entirely. And even the most outrageous stories fell woefully short of the real thing.

The Vampire district took up almost a full quarter of the city, nestled in the southeastern tip and bordering the river that separated the city from the second octant. The towering black mansion that housed the deSanguine family took up the vast majority of that space. Fey's entire neighborhood could have fit inside that building. And there were other mansions, scattered on the grounds, built in clusters. They must house the other Vampire families, Fey suspected.

"I mean it, Witchling. Especially with what an ass I’ve been tonight. We can turn around and go home right now.”

“I know, Alastair,” she answered, trying to keep the bite from her voice. He wasn’t off her shit list, not yet. “You’ve only mentioned that about a hundred times already.”

Alastair flinched and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I just mean that you shouldn’t feel obligated to have anything to do with my family. They’re my bullshit, not yours. Loving me doesn’t mean you have to put up with them.”

“And what about your brother?” Fey asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Alastair smirked. “My little brother is the only one I’m excited to introduce you to,” he said. “He’s the only one worth knowing out of all of them.”

Fey nodded. “I want to meet him, Alastair. He means a lot to you. I want to get to know that part of your life.” She sighed. “You said you wanted me—allof me. And I want to know all of you. Even the bad.”

“Okay.” Alastair let out a long breath. “Okay, then.”

Satisfied, Fey raised her hand to knock, but the door clicked before she’d even touched it, swinging inward, as though beckoning them inside.

---