Page 5 of Gemini Christmas
The riveting spectacle of our aristocratic and reserved headmaster being thoroughly kissed by a burly, dimpled, blue-bearded dude in a full Santa suit—a Santa who’s giving majorfuck mevibes, because incubus, and basically sexing up the whole street—sparks a spontaneous round of applause from a passing quartet of college girls in ski bunny gear. The chicks all slow to admire our show as they saunter past.
Someone else from the crowd streaming past our stall lets loose with a piercing wolf whistle.
Ruddy and flustered, Lucius grips Mordred’s broad shoulders for balance and struggles upright. “Ah, hello to you as well, Mordred.”
Those two aren’t fucking (yet). That’s because Lucius has it stuck in his head that Mordred—as a freshman exchange student at the Icarus Academy—needs mentoring and other academic shit from Lucius more than he needs fucking.
But Mordred’s a demon on a mission.
A mission I totally approve.
A mission to fuck all the mates in our polycule, because Mordred was the last of my warlocks to join. And Lucius is the last holdout.
Long story short? I don’t think Lucius’ virtue is gonna remain intact much longer.
When my wolf king’s gaze swerves to me, I smile and blow him a kiss for reassurance. “No worries about me or the puppies, Teach. The guys have been taking such good care of us.”
For the moment, that’s enough for Lucius, who tries really hard not to hover and always gives me my space.
Meanwhile, Ash beelines straight for Vasili. Who’s still standing between Ronin’s spread knees with his back to the street.
Still, V being V, he’s fully aware of what’s coming.
Ash is physically the largest of my warlocks, just a massive mountain of a man, close to seven feet tall and impressively wide though the shoulders, with thick biceps and corded thighs. Plus the mountaineering parka half-unzipped down his broad chest just makes him look larger. The sunglasses perched high on his spiky pewter hair draw extra attention to his quicksilver eyes and rugged, square-jawed face.
At least he’s rocking a common magics glamour spell to downplay his pointed ears.
“Howdy, beautiful,” the big Seelie rumbles in Vasili’s ear, engulfing V’s slim waist in his large hands while our snake hums a welcome. Then Ash lifts his head to look right at Ronin. “You too, firecracker.”
So, yeah. Ash is into nicknames. It’s part of his folksy,aw shucks,I might be the Light Fae Prince but I’m just your average joeold-fashioned charm.
And it makes me so happy that Ash has finally given one of his old-fashioned nicknames to Ronin.
Because those two started out hating each other. Jealous of each other. At first, even when they fucked, their vibe was total hate fuck.
For months.
Some nights, it still is.
But not today.
“Cheers, mate.” Ronin leans into V, who totally doesn’t mind, to reciprocate Ash’showdywith a casual kiss.
“Polycule,” the wine-pour girl whispers, clearly trying out the word and the concept, and fortunately forgetting to follow up on the problematic issue of where the hell we hail from. “Whoa. I might have to give that a try after all.”
“I certainly recommend it,” I say dreamily, rubbing noses with Neo and gazing deep into his love-filled eyes.
Now that’s three of my warlocks wrapped around each other and two more wrapped around me, while Lucius takes a brisk businesslike inventory of our mountain of purchases. Mordred banters and flirts at his side.
Normally I’d worry we’re maybe attracting too much attention from the normals.
But not now.
Thick flakes are spiraling from the leaden skies, floating past the gaslamp-style streetlights and the swoopy strand of blue-and-rose Christmas lights the ornament shop just switched on, glowing in the deepening twilight.
The mood on the street has shifted from the happy buzz of holiday shopping to folks checking their phones for the weather report and muttering about getting on the road before the snow gets worse.
“Figure we all better get a move on.” Ash jams his big hands into his parka pockets and addresses this remark to all of us. “Definitely a big blow coming. I’m guessing we wanna be off these mountain roads, tucked safe and sound in our digs, before the real snow hits.”
