Page 23 of The Blood Witch

Jasper grinned in answer and set a glass in front of him, glancing at the crowd as he poured. Itwasa good crowd tonight. Hell, business had been phenomenal lately. And it wasn’t just the recent changes Ferus had started instituting, either. It was also the sudden surge in patrons from the Witch Faction. With any luck, this could be their best year yet. They were on track to make record profits this season, and?—

Every cell in Jasper’s brain stopped firing.

Mine.

The smell had been lost to the crowd, overpowered by the hundreds of other patrons who smelled like sex and lust and desperation. But when Alastair leaned closer to touch his glass, the scent hit Jasper like a bolt of lightning. A delicious, mouthwatering smell of sex and power.

Fey.

But not just her. He could smell both of them, their scents tangled together. Arousal and strength and heat. He groaned, every nerve in his body firing, every instinct inside him coming to life. That smell reached into his chest and pulled something there, something he’d been trying so desperately to ignore.

Mine.

Had anything ever smelled so amazing in all of creation? Was there anything?—

“What the fuck, Jasper!” Alastair snapped, leaping back from thebar and the growing spill of whiskey. Jasper jolted back to life with a start. Liquor cascaded over the brim of the glass in front of him. He’d been so distracted he’d kept pouring into the already full glass until the bottle was nearly empty, and the boss’s top shelf liquor was suddenly flooding the bar top.

Alastair flicked drops of whiskey off his fingers with a dark scowl.

“Sorry, boss.” Jasper winced, grabbing a towel and trying to mop up the spill. Fuck, he was a mess. “I’ll pay for it.”

“What you just spilled probably cost more than your monthly salary, puppy,” Alastair told him, watching Jasper’s desperate attempt to mop it up.

When it was clear one measly bar towel wasn’t doing the trick, Jasper gave Alastair an apologetic smile and ducked further behind the bar to grab some more.

Sid came over as he grabbed a handful of bar towels and chuckled sympathetically.

“At least he washed his hands,” he grinned.

Jasper barely spared him a glance. “What?”

Nodding toward where Alastair stood, still wiping whiskey off his fingers, Sid’s grin widened. “The boss. At least he washed his hands, you know? Trust me, it was worse earlier. He smelled so much like her pussy there wasn’t a soft cock in the bar.”

A growl started in Jasper’s chest, lost to the music.

“You weren’t here for it, were you?” Sid asked, laughing and shaking his head. “I forgot you were late for your shift tonight. They were, uh… not quiet about it. It was quite a show.”

Jasper straightened, the spill forgotten. His hands flexed.

“You wouldn’t believe the sounds that Witch makes,” Sid continued. He threw back his head to groan, hand reaching down to grip himself over his pants. “I had to head to the stockroom to relieve some of the tension, if you know what I mean.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jasper hissed.

Sid’s smile slipped. He glanced at Jasper, and whatever he saw there left him pale.

“I didn’t mean any disrespect,” Sid said quickly, holding his palmsup between them. “But you’ve seen her. You know how hot she is. I mean… fuck, the things I would do to that woman…”

Jasper shot forward to grab Sid by the throat. He slammed his back against the wall hard enough that the liquor bottles above the bar shook.

“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” Jasper snarled. Sid’s eyes went wide with fear. Someone at the bar shouted. Someone else screamed. The music kept going, the heavy beat echoing in Jasper’s skull. “You don’t get to think about her like that. Do you understand me?”

Terrified, Sid nodded.

“Sorry, Jas, I-I wasn’t thinking, I?—”

“She’s not yours to think about,” Jasper continued, canines elongating. He was too close to shifting, too close to losing control. The hand tightening around Sid’s throat began to grow razor-sharp claws. “She’s not yours to fantasize about. She’s?—”

Mine.

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