Page 6 of Witches and Wine
“What’s with that face?” I shrugged him off.
“Alright, I’ll guess. You’re grumpy because of—what’s her name? The one with the fiery tendrils and sparkling emerald eyes?” Hermes clasped his hands under his chin and blinked his eyes like a dame from the old mortal cartoons.
Pointing a stern finger in his face, I brought us toe to toe. “I told you that in confidence.”
“You told it to me drunk.”
“Evenmoreconfidence.”
Hermes shoved me between the shoulder blades. “Let’s go. I’m buying a round or two.”
“I’d rather be anywhere right now than the club,” I all but whined.
“We’re not going to the club. We’re going to Finneas’, and you, my dear wine god—” Hermes lifted my limp hand and shook it. “—are going to make all our drinks buzz-worthy.”
“Fine,” I grumbled.
Hermes snapped his fingers. “One second. I need to feed the animals real quick.” Using his speed magic, Hermes whiskedaway, sending my hair skyward before returning within half a second and dusting his hands off. “Shall we?”
Finneas’s pub was something straight out of the mortal Middle Ages with its stone flooring, barreled tables, stools, real candles in the hanging metal chandeliers, and wooden tankards or curved horns instead of glass mugs and pints. A massive oak tree grew through the middle of the establishment, sprouting from the top, magic surging through it, making its veins glow a bright green. Varied types of knight and Viking shields adorned the walls, along with more wooden, stone, and metal accents.
We clamored to the circular bar with a raging hearth at its center and occupied two stools. I pressed my forearms to the wood and rubbed my temples. “Do gods get headaches? Is that possible?”
Hermes drummed his fingers on the bar top and flagged the bartender. “Considering we’re not impervious to pain, I’d venture to say, yes?”
Groaning, my face falling into my hands, I didn’t notice the pixie edging closer to me until her hand was trailing down my thigh. Lazily, I lifted my head and let my gaze fall to my lap. Her glittered nails sparkled from the overhanging candles, and she ventured further up my leg before I gently took her hand and held it still.
“Flora,” I crooned, awkwardly holding her pale hand between us.
Her translucent curved wings flapped excitedly, her wider-than-human dewy blue eyes blinking. Flora perked her pointedears, cheeks blushing pink before she wound a strand of black ringlet hair around her finger. “Hey, Dion. It’s been a while.”
“That it has, sweetness.” I gave her knuckles a chaste kiss before resting her hand on the bar top near her. “And it’s going to be longer.”
Hermes’s stare burned a hole in the side of my head, but I ignored him.
“What do you mean?” Flora frowned, her wings drooping, and the glitter within her apple cheeks dimmed.
“I—” Pausing, I clenched my teeth.
How the Tartarus did I answer this? It’s not like Chelsea waswithme. I wasn’t even sure I had a chance—me—the god of sexnothaving a chance with a mortal woman. The thought only irritated me more.
“Look, Flora. It’s complicated, but I’m not looking for company tonight, tomorrow, or for the foreseeable future.” Pointing behind her at a very interested troll, I coaxed her attention away from me. “Why don’t you go talk to him?”
Flora’s cheeks reddened when she caught sight of the brooding blue male with arms nearly as thick as his body. “If you’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Run along now before you miss out.” After seeing her frolic to the troll, I cracked my neck from side to side.
Hermes appeared in my line of vision with a shit-eating grin. “Thisisabout the redhead.”
“Yeah, alright.” I smacked my hand on the table, making our tankards bounce. “Maybe it is. Idon’tunderstand how I’m so wrapped up with a singular person, Herm. I’veneverbeen like this.”
Actual concern flooded Hermes’s face, which made me uneasy, before it melted into a huge smile at the sight of our tankards arriving. He slid them toward me, waiting, and after Itouched them, lacing the drinks with ambrosia wine, we raised them for a toast.
“To figuring out what makes this one so special, Dion,” Hermes toasted.
Grumbling, I lifted my mug and thudded it against his. “Yámas.”
“In all seriousness, bro, there has to be something about her. Maybe she’s an enchantress?” Hermes said this with such confidence it almost made me laugh.
