Page 90 of Livewire Witch

And then I’m coming too, losing my damn mind as my balls tighten and black spots form in front of my eyes as I come harder than I ever have before.

Silver flops down onto my chest, my softening cock still inside her. Ro pulls away and hops off the bed, popping a kiss onto Silver’s cheek and then one onto my forehead with a grin.

“Gonna get you cleaned up, sweetheart. And then we can snuggle.”

Silver lets out a little groan, pulling off me and then snuggling down beside me. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight to my chest.

When Ro returns, he cleans Silver up. Then he drops onto her other side and kisses her. She’s sandwiched between the two of us as I spoon her from behind, pressing a kiss to the soft skin between her neck and shoulder.

Having my girl in my arms sends a feeling of warmth rolling through me and I feel better than I have in a long time.

Right now, I’m exactly where I need to be.

25

Fabian

Another day, another cloak and dagger meeting with Magnolia Winters, our Archarcan contact. Roscoe and I are on a street corner behind a laundromat at the edge of our district, waiting for her to show up. It’s cold and drizzling and the scent of the laundry soap pumping through a vent behind us is filling my nose, making my head throb.

She’s thirty minutes late, and we’re both growing more antsy by the second.

“Fuck man, this sucks,” Roscoe moans, leaning against the wall. “How long are we going to hang around before it’s obvious she’s standing us up?”

“We’ll give it another half hour,” I reply.

Despite the number of last-minute meetings with her, all the meetings in weird locations where we’ve had to bend over backwards for her, it seems like there’s every chance she’s going to be a no show.

That’s after I called her office a half dozen times and she finally deigned to return one of my messages to set up the meeting. She wasn’t the only Archarcan I tried making contact with, either. I’ve spent hours calling their offices, trying to set up a meeting with the council. I even turned up at Arcanum Heights to see if being there in person would get me through the door.

I figured, how hard would it be. We have word that something seriously shady is going down in the city and we’re trying to do the right thing by giving them a head’s up.

Now, you might not think that people in our line of work would have much of a social conscience. Or a conscience in general. But none of us want for there to be corpses lining the streets, or for that fuck Simpson to grow any more powerful than he already is.

The guy almost killed me. Poisoned my veins and got damn close to turning me into a mindless monster.

Then Roscoe told me what he’d threatened to do to Silver. If I didn’t hate the sick vampire already, that would have sent me right over the edge.

It’s remarkably easy to smuggle contraband items in and out of this city. Almost laughably simple to launder a bunch of money acquired from less than legal sources. The Archarcans turn a blind eye, most of the time. So long as we can scratch their backs whenever they need us to.

But once you have information that the entire city might be in danger, it becomes almost impossible to get anyone who holds any power to take some kind of action.

A group of vampires are hoping to take over the city? The Archarcans have no interest.

A pile of bodies mysteriously turns up, only to disappear as though it’s been spelled? So what?

Maybe we should have claimed the vamps were planning on fucking up their party at the Solstice Ball and that might have swayed them to take a damn interest.

Funnily enough, our latest intel says that’s not even a lie. Silver’s brother, Ember, has been working day and night with his ear to the ground. He’s been all over the city, listening to conversations and spying, and it seems like the vamps havesomethingplanned for the Solstice Ball. When would be betterto do something than that night, when all the most powerful people in the city are going to be gathering together in one place?

We’re just not sure about any of the details yet.

It’s only a couple of days away, and all of us are getting antsy.

Roscoe grumbles beside me. He’s got a pack of cards in one hand and is shuffling them over and over again, making them slap against each other. It’s a sure sign of his restlessness and irritation at the situation.

I don’t blame him, even as I stand stock-still, a calm façade hiding the roiling frustration that’s going on under the surface. I. Am. Pissed.

Who the fuck do the Archarcans think they are, discounting us like this?

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