Page 26 of A Match Made in Coven
“Because,” Sarah Michelle bit out through clenched teeth, “he’s a Black. Our families have been feuding for generations. It would never work.”
“Psssh.” Andromeda waved a dismissive hand. “That feud is so last century. This is the modern magical age! Star-crossed lovers are totally in right now.”
Sarah Michelle pinched the bridge of her nose, a headache coming on. Sometimes Andromeda’s flair for the dramatic rivaled a horde of banshees.
“Love conquers all! I’m pro forbidden romances…” Andromeda clasped her hands to her chest, fluttering her lashes like a besotted damsel.
“For the last time, there is no love!”
“Lust, at least?”
“No lust either!” Sarah Michelle’s voice rose an octave, frustration spiking.
Andromeda smirked. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“Argh!” Sarah Michelle threw up her hands. “I’m done with this conversation. I’m going to bed.”
She whirled around, stomping toward her bedroom. But Andromeda’s singsong remark followed her retreat. “Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt, Shelly! That smoke-show of a wizard has you hot and bothered, and we both know it!”
Sarah Michelle slammed her door shut with a satisfying bang, muffling Andromeda’s cackle. She sagged against the wood, squeezing her eyes closed, wishing it all away. Pity the first image that popped into her mind was Lorcan—running, sweaty, bare-chested in his basement. Oh, for hex’s sake. Sarah Michelle got ready for bed and downed an entire vial of dreamless-nights elixir to make sure that wretched wizard wouldn’t infest her dreams too.
***
The next morning, Sarah Michelle was already waiting outside when Lorcan pulled up in his sleek black car. She hurried over, yanking open the passenger door and slipping inside before he could even get out to greet her.
“In a rush, are we?” Lorcan quirked a brow.
“Just being efficient.” Sarah Michelle buckled her seatbelt. Her actual intention was to avoid giving her roommate more ammunition to tease her. “We can go.”
They drove in silence for a few minutes before Lorcan spoke again, his tone teasing. “You should smile more. It would improve your mood.”
“And you should talk less. It would also improve my mood.”
“Not a morning person?” Lorcan asked seriously, but his eyes danced with laughter.
“Not a ‘listening to unrequested advice’ person.”
He laughed at that, and the sound was a corkscrew in her belly—it dug deep and it coiled tighter with every chuckle.
The drive to the nearby town was less than fifteen miles, but it couldn’t be over fast enough.
When they finally arrived at the casino, Sarah Michelle low whistled. The place was opulent, all gleaming gold and sparkling glass. Red chandeliers dripped from the high ceilings, casting a sultry glow over the sea of slot machines and card tables. The air hummed with the clink of glasses, the whir of the slots, and the occasional victorious shout.
“Fancy,” Lorcan remarked as they made their way inside—his tone grim.
“Yeah,” Sarah Michelle admitted. “The perfect place to lose a lot of money fast.”
Lorcan nodded, his jaw set. Sometimes the wizard was unreadable, but now Sarah Michelle could easily interpret the guilt he was feeling at not having known about Elijah’s gambling problem. She felt for him, but it wasn’t her place to comfort him. The best she could do to help Lorcan move on was track down the killer.
They approached the front desk to make inquiries and flashed Elijah’s photo to the concierge, a perky blonde named Tiffany, according to her name tag. Her eyes widened in recognition.
“Oh, Mr. Preston! Yes, he used to be a regular. A high roller.” Her smile dimmed. “But I’m afraid he’s no longer welcome at the Encore.”
“Why?”
Tiffany lowered her voice. “Well, about a year ago, Mr. Preston made a rather… sizable bet. On credit. And then he couldn’t repay the debt.”
“How big an amount are we talking?” Lorcan asked.
