Page 65 of Gemini Hunted
“You’re kinda the ace up our sleeve, Aquaman,” I tell him. “Because Nikolai Romanov might not even know we have a half incubus, half kraken shifter on our team. You’re our last line of defense. You gotta keep the Horn outta their hands… I mean paws. No matter what.”
“You’re the boss, baby queen.” Mordred shucks Neo’s preppy raincoat and hunkers down to unlace his borrowed boots.
Despite the urgency of the crisis, I take a minute to appreciate the visual of six feet plus of sex demon, naked from the waist up except for the inky tattooed sleeve running from shoulder to wrist on one arm. With every movement, his delts flex and his pecs ripple. The deep pelvic vee of his Adonis belt plunges under the scaly black breeks that cling to his bulging quads and muscled calves. He’s totally channeling Jason Momoa, right down to the goatee and the dark tangle of hair spilling down his spine.
“Dayum,” I mutter. “Helluva time to sex me up, demon.”
“Working though, ain’t it?” He dimples and winks at me, then uncoils his powerful body in a long dive that propels him deep into the black water.
With the Horn of Ceres still strapped to his body.
I’m not particularly a sports fan.
Never had time for organized sports in my law-skirting cat burglar life.
But I know enough to recognize that entrusting our magical artifact to a wild card player like Mordred the incubus shifter is what any sports fan would call a Hail Mary pass.
Chapter Fourteen
Mallory
This is the most dangerous spell I’ve ever tried to cast.
Knowing Draco and my long-lost brother are both outside with the others, hurling themselves into danger to protect me from an AIB kill squad while I invoke this dangerous magic? Knowing my friend and her entire harem trust me, Mallory McSnicker, the carrot-haired running joke of the whole Academy, to save the day? Knowing it’s on me and my mediocre witchcraft to defend the rightful queen and keep the torch of rebellion alight?
Not helping.
Now the distant tyrannosaur bellow of Max’s dragon (scary as heck) startles me so badly I fumble and drop my amethyst.
Welp, there goes the last chunk of crystal I need to ward the four quadrants of that protective pentacle I’ve chalked into the rough stone floor.
Propelled by my jittery nerves and that dragon’s frustrated roar—or just by my usual clumsiness—the precious crystal skitters across the floor with achink-chink-chinkthat echoes off the ancient walls.
“Darn it!” I lunge after the stone and trip over my own big feet, clunky in my saddle shoes.
As usual.
I end up sprawled on the floor, palms abraded and knees stinging, nerves jangling in alarm over my near-faceplant.
But the blush scorching across my face?
That’s worse. Way worse.
Way to go, McSnicker.I swallow down a sigh of resignation.It’d be so great if you could save the witching world without tripping over your own feet. Just once.
You know, for a novelty.
“Whoa, Mal, you okay?” Zara stops pacing to scoop up the fallen amethyst and rushes to help me up.
But Jae reaches my side first.
“Eh,bébé, you be more careful, you,” my guy murmurs tenderly.
While I scramble to get my feet back under me, Jae wraps an arm around my waist from behind. Which definitely heats me up, both in my face and… other places.
Forreasons.
My distracted brain rushes straight to the savage way my werewolf shoved me facedown over Draco’s dorm room bed this morning, spread my quivering thighs wide, and railed me until my knees turned to jelly and I creamed all over his dick.
