Page 24 of Witches and Wine
Nodding, Dion, still very naked, ported us to my apartment. “I forget the term witches use for them, but yeah, I believe he is.”
As if on cue, Riley bolted from his carpet tower and scurried figure eights against my ankles.
“Idofeel exhausted.”
Swaggering, Dion’s bared cock twitching, he dragged a hand through his hair. “I tend to have that effect.”
My cheeks warmed, and I grinned at him, unable to disagree.
Dion let his gaze roam my face and hair before pressing a sensual, toe-curling kiss to my lips. “Satiation looks good on you, Red.”
Humming, I lifted to the balls of my feet, not wanting the kiss to end or him to leave, for that matter. I’d become addicted to him and had no explanation for it other than how godsdamned sexy he was and his many—talents. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Get some rest,” Dion demanded, pointing to my bedroom down the hall. “And take it easy. Your powerswillcome. You have to be patient.”
“You say that like you’ve been around for thousands of years or something.” I gave him a sleepy smile, my eyes growing heavy.
Chuckling, he traced a thumb over my lip. “Until tonight,mágissa.”
The god of wine and frenzy ported away, leaving only faint wisps of burgundy mist and ivy.
What a fucking surprisethatwas.And I’m not the type to be easily taken off guard, but when Chelsea showed up on my doorstep in only a thin tank, her tits visible, and some tiny ass booty shorts? Iama god, and Istillthanked the gods for whatever I had done to deserve such a moment.
“You dog,” Hermes said, punching my shoulder.
The club wouldn’t open for another couple of hours, and I busied myself with unloading glasses from the dishwasher and setting them up for the club’s busiest night of the week. Hermes sat on a stool, Bruce on the one next to him, spinning circles, his hooves raised to the ceiling.
“What?” I grumbled, positioning the glasses in perfect rows, even taking the time to adjust them if they were off.
Bruce paused his circles long enough to scratch one horn and said, “You always regale us with stories of your exploits, and yet with Red?” He made a gesture of zipping his mouth shut.
Hermes pointed at Bruce and interlaced his fingers on the bar top. “What the satyr said.”
“Shut up.” I reached for another glass, and when I came up with empty air, I grabbed a towel and started wiping anything and everything down. “This is different.”
“How so, big guy?” Hermes blinked his blue eyes at me, feigning ignorance.
There was an exceptionally stubborn grease mark, and I growled, rubbing at it furiously. “Shit, I don’t know. I feel—protective over her.”
Bruce scooted forward on his seat. “Like a mate?”
“No,” I frowned, the idea of thatnotbeing true irritating me. “I mean, maybe? Fuck if I know.”
Hermes scoffed and raked a hand through his brown locks. “Wow. This is really getting to you, huh?”
“Look, you two.” Throwing the towel down with extra fervor, making them both zip to attention, I pressed my palms to the bar. “I feel something different toward Chelsea than I have with anyone else. And if shewasmy mate, how would I be able to tell?”
Bruce burst out laughing, resting his hands on his portly stomach. “You’d know. Trust me.”
“Not necessarily,” Hermes countered, fluttering his fingers at Bruce.
“Yeah.” I playfully punched Bruce in the shoulder, making him wobble on his stool. “Like you have experience.”
“Now, I never said that. I only know because I talk to a lot of people. One tends to hear things.” Bruce got momentarily distracted by a maenad strolling past, setting up tables. He licked two fingers, ran them up the length of his horns, and made a motion like he was about to abandon the conversation, but I grabbed his vest and stopped him.
“You said not necessarily, Herm. What did you mean by that?” Keeping Bruce still until he relented, I nudged my chin at Hermes.
“A lot of us have found mates, but there’s not one all-encompassing type amidst so many varieties of celestial beings. You have fated mates—” Hermes lifted a finger for each phrase. “—fated bonds, soul mates, and Tartarus, I don’t know what shifters call it, but theirmatingis an entirely different game.”
