Page 53 of Witch Queen

If Vlad noticed, he wasn’t showing any sign of it.

“That wasn’t what I meant, but you’re right.”She became conscious of Brimstone’s pointed stare. “What?”

Will you be okay?the fox asked in a tone laced with doubt.Are you feeling a warm stirring in your loins too?

Mae’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “How about you leave my loins out of this conversation?”

Nikolai handed her a drink when they reached the table. “Here.”

She accepted it gratefully and took the seat beside him.

“You look like death warmed over,” Cortes observed.

“I feel like it.” Mae gulped a mouthful of the cold liquid and looked around. “Where did Alicia go?”

“She said she’d sensed something and went to investigate.” Astarte scratched Tarang under the chin. “Who’s a good little tiger?”

Tarang made a happy sound.

“Sensed what?” Mae asked warily.

“I’m not sure.” The Goddess grimaced. “She has an uncanny sixth sense when it comes to sniffing out trouble.”

Mae wrinkled her nose. “Is it okay for her to be out there on her own?”

They all looked at her blankly.

She realized what she’d just said and laughed awkwardly. “Ha ha. Right, she’s the Queen of the Soul Reapers.”

“Can you stop trying to seduce my familiar?” Vlad muttered at Astarte, who was slipping the tiger her entire platter of meat.

They ate dinner under the stars, Armaros joining them briefly before returning to his forge. Sparks exploded as he patiently pummeled and shaped the magic-infused metal with a hammer that looked like it could smash a mountain, the sounds ringing across the courtyard in a hypnotic cadence.

It was late when Vannog and Vozgan returned from patrolling the neighboring valleys. They had a snack consisting of twenty roasted hellboars each before settling down close to the forge. The heat from the flames soon lulled them to sleep.

“You should go to bed,” Mae told Nikolai when the midnight hour approached.

“I’ll stay with you.”

He dropped down beside her where she leaned her back against Vozgan’s flank, Brimstone in her lap. To Mae’s surprise, Astarte and the others chose to stick around too.

“I’ve always wanted to ask,” Cortes mused after some time. He studied the Goddess and Ilmon with a calculated expression. “All that stuff in the Bible. Is any of it true?”

The Incubus king and Astarte shared a wary glance.

“Some of it is,” Ilmon acknowledged.

“But a lot of it involves conclusions mankind came to after hearing stories passed down to them by their forefathers,” Astarte said drily. “And we all know how information gets twisted when it changes hands.”

“The War in Heaven and the Fallen Angels,” Vlad said hesitantly. “That really happened though, didn’t it?”

“And Artemus Steele truly is the son of the archangel who cast you all to Hell?” Mae added.

Astarte’s eye twitched. Ilmon clenched his jaw.

“I think you touched a sore spot,” Cortes muttered to Mae.

“It’s not that,” Astarte ground out. “It’s just?—”

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