Page 9 of Wildfire Witch

“They could still be fire bros.”

“They’re no more fire bros than I’m a fire sis.”

I snorted, my response light-hearted.“We’ve been over this—there are no fire sisters. It’s the Fire Brotherhood, so there are only fire bros.”

Aodhnait crackled, her equivalent of mirth or approval. I ended up smiling a bit too and even considered her side of the argument when Ceridor slowed before the gates leading to a set of fancy new apartments. As the gate trundled open, he glanced over at me. “My house in the Wind Court is far grander than a block of these apartments.”

“If it wasn’t, I’d be shocked. You’re what, a thousand years old?” I asked dryly.

His laugh was short and rusty. “I have yet to see my four hundredth year.”

I eyed him speculatively, not like I saw anything but a twenty-something human in the driver’s seat. “So, you’re three hundred and ninety-nine years old, then?”

He smirked as he eased the car into the apartment complex. “Something like that.”

“Three hundred and seventy-five,” I guessed.

“Closer.” He parked and popped the trunk. He was out the door and gathering up my stuff before I formed another guess. I got out of the car and reached for my backpack, and he brushed my hand aside to sling one strap up on his shoulder instead.

He carried the life I’d built myself to the nearest building. There was a winding sidewalk through patches of recently cut grassand a single tree along the way, its bronze leaves swaying in the breeze that passed it when Ceridor walked under its branches. We took the stairs to the third floor, where he let us into a corner apartment.

I walked through a veil of delicious smells and inhaled deeply. The kitchen was straight ahead and Seth stood in front of a sizzling pan. He turned and lit up when he saw me, smiling a brilliant white grin. “Oh, hey! Cer didn’t tell me he was bringing you this early.”

“Surprise,” I said awkwardly. The fae went to their living room to drop my stuff beside their couch.

I drifted over to see what Seth was making that smelled so good. He was in the process of sautéing a colorful pan of veggies and was wearing an oil-flecked apron that read “Kiss the Cook” with a red lipstick print.

Oh, no. I liked this as much as his EMT uniform. He made for a cute chef.

“If I do as instructed, will you make me some too?” I asked. Then immediately regretted it when he glanced down and a hint of pink lit his cheeks. That was a too-bold offer by my standards.

“I mean, I will, you don’t have to…” He glanced past me and I turned. Ceridor had dropped his glamor and was gathering plates and cutlery to set out at their little kitchen table. The fae dropped a fork on the counter with a little too much force as he listened to us.

Seth cleared his throat and went back to sautéing, shooing me out of the kitchen to sit and wait for him to finish cooking, I sat across from Ceridor, trying not to stare at the distraction ofhis wind-kissed fae beauty and the fact that he’d gone back to admiring me with his chin resting in the cradle of his hand.

“I will let you guess my age again, for a kiss,” he said in an undertone.

I breathed in the minty taste of the fae deal hidden in his cool voice. In my limited research on the supernatural side of the internet, I’d come across people talking about how bitter most fae deals tasted. Until now, I hadn’t realized that was literal.

“I wasn’t really going to kiss Seth,” I murmured.

“Once you eat his food, you might.”

I arched a brow. “Jealous?”

His silver eyes darkened. “Incredibly. I desire the first taste of your lips.”

Right back to intense, I see.“Okay. The next time I want to guess your age, I’ll kiss you first,” I said.

Mint tingled on my lips and tongue for a couple minutes as we waited. Ceridor seemed a little smug, even though I didn’t guess his age and may never, depending on how tonight went. Seth served us dinner, a steaming-hot stir fry, and I did my best not to devour it too fast.

“They have a carandone of them is a chef. We have to take them with us,”Aodhnait teased.

She might not be wrong. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?” I asked.

Seth shrugged. “I took some classes in high school. They actually set me up pretty well for culinary school and I kept the skills.”

“Cool,” I said. I hadn’t attended high school in my current incarnation, so I had nothing to say about the experience.

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