Page 110 of Gemini Kings
Fuck.
I scowl and cross my arms over my chest.
“Well.”Rudely Vasili upends his cache of murdered oysters into the soup with a noisy splash that makes us all twitch. “I’m going straight to thethermaeto rid myself of the appalling stench of shellfish—if I can. Kindly don’t forget our tutoring session in the library after dinner, Mr. Rasputin. And don’t eventhinkof being late, or I’ll make you suffer.”
Maxim stops buttoning his shirt and slides him a long look. Vasili sounds far from inviting (to put it mildly). Geez, he’s really gotta work on that whole teacher-student approachability thing. Still, I get the definite feeling Maxim’s… relieved… that the Goblin King’s still willing to put up with teaching him.
Kiss or no kiss.
“I will not forget,” the dragon says quietly. “Or be late.”
Vasili interrogates him with his eyes (which is basically a mini-Spanish Inquisition, minus thumbscrews, but still not comfortable, like,at all). Finally he gives Max a curt nod and slithers off.
But he doesn’t get very far before Lucius appears in the kitchen door, still wearing his sober winter coat.
His grim face and quiet voice rivet us all where we stand (or sit). “I’m sorry for being late for dinner, my dears. I trust you’ll forgive me for making you all wait. I fear there’s been… a development.”
My prof isn’t easy to rattle, so that note in his voice gives me a cold chill.
“What kind ofdevelopment?” Vasili asks, narrow-eyed, speaking for all of us.
Lucius’ wary gaze shifts to me. “A development concerning Zara’s accession to the witching world throne.”
Well, fuck.
Chapter Twenty
Vasili
“Sweet Jesus. Arival queen? And she just, what, issued a goddamn press release?”
Zara’s abandoned her dinner halfway through her bowl of Ronin’s exceptionalbouillabaissein favor of stalking around the great room and cursing, while the rest of us huddle around the big table and stare at each other like imbeciles.
“Not quite a press release, my dear. It’s only an old rumor that’s surfaced rather suddenly inThe Witching Inquisitor.”Lucius slips his handkerchief from his tweed coat and pats gently at his damp temples.
Clearly his heat is starting, precisely when I’ve predicted it would, based on the phase of the moon when I bit him.
Of course, he’s fiercely resisting our impending fuckfest, also precisely as I predicted. Later he’s probably going to try locking me out of his bedroom like a medieval virgin on her wedding night.
Not that any lock’s going to keep me out.
I’m his alpha, he’s in heat, and Zara’s current crisis is literally the only reason I’m not already launching myself across the table and dragging the poor dear off to his bedroom for a good hard fuck.
Normally Zara would be an active participant in my little X-rated fantasy (as well as the subsequent fuck). Tonight, she merely scowls at the magazine clenched in her fist. “Yeah, well, that so-called old rumor just made the goddamn cover.”
“TheInquisitorisn’t even a proper newspaper,” I sneer, thoroughly offended on her behalf. “It’s a filthy rag. A scandal sheet. Everyone knows the publishers accept money to print any old rubbish.”
“But everyone in the witching world reads it.” This heartening contribution comes from Neo, the senator’s son, who frowns and pushes his glasses up his nose. “Honestly, this isn’t good. And it’s definitely not a coincidence that this rumor resurfaced right after what just happened in Vegas. Whoever paid to print this piece chose their momentreallywell. They’re striking while Zara’s perceived as weak… and maybe, you know, deficient. Even if it’s only a provocation, she can’t afford to ignore this.”
My queen isn’t normally one to pace. Because she isn’t normally indecisive. She’s an action heroine, and I simply adore that about her.
But she too is teetering on the edge of her heat.
In this condition, she has kilojoules of energy to burn.
Tonight she’s all but wearing a path in the floor as she circles the central hearth, firelight glowing in her eyes and dancing on her skin, with one hand slapping the rolled-up news rag against her thigh and her Hollywood face pensive.
In fact, this printed scandal that Lucius has just produced at the dinner table between ravenous mouthfuls of freshly baked baguette (because his heat is also making him peckish) is so unexpected I’m rather tempted to pace myself.
