“Here, Finn.” One of Martha’s identical twin sons—Diego or Ethan, he still had a hard time telling them apart—handed him a bottle. “This calls for a toast.”
He accepted the drink, a little warily. It had become something of a game over the last few weeks for the younger men of the pack to try to find an alcoholic beverage he found palatable. He was still somewhat suspicious that the revoltingly foamy, insipid drink they’d called ‘beer’ had been some sort of elaborate practical joke.
He took a cautious sip. It was at least inoffensive. “Mildly refreshing.”
Diego, or possibly Ethan, looked around at the watching young men hopefully. “That close enough?”
“I think with two hundred bucks at stake, you’ll have to do better than that, Diego,” one of them replied. “What is it, anyway?”
“Straight bourbon.” Diego took the bottle back, looking at it mournfully. “Described as ‘mildly refreshing.’ No-one is ever going to win the bet at this rate.”
Sid, the rattlesnake alpha, had been watching from the shadows just outside the circle of coyotes. They bristled a little as he stepped forward. The young snake ignored the glares, though his tense shoulders showed that he was aware of them.
“I gather that there’s some sort of bet?” He held up a hip flask.
Diego’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t know if you should trust anything that comes from a snake’s hands, Finn.”
In answer, he took the flask. Without hesitation or a word, he raised it to his lips.
There was a long pause.
“Now that,” he said, lowering the flask again, “is a drink.”
Sid grinned, showing his fangs, as the coyotes erupted into groans and recriminations. The alpha snake held out a hand. Grumbling, the coyotes started pulling out their wallets.
“Did you really enjoy that, or is this just a shark’s sense of humor?” Diego asked Finn suspiciously as he counted out bills.
He tipped the flask upside-down. Not a drop ran out. “I will drink more to prove it, if you would like.”
Sid’s yellow eyes widened. He had slit pupils, like a cat. Much like shark shifters, many snakes had a hard time appearing fully human.
“You ju
st drank half a flask of snakebite, and you’re asking for more?” he choked out.
“It is pleasantly bracing.” Finn handed the flask back to him. “Perhaps we could drink together again, some other time. There are matters I would discuss with you.”
The young rattlesnake looked wary. “Like what?”
“Among other things,” Finn smiled, showing his teeth, “where to find discreet dentists.”
“Hate to break up all this male bonding, but my man has to start making good on his promise now.” Martha had appeared at his elbow. She tugged at his arm. “Come on, Finn. Dancing’s about to start.”
With a parting nod, he allowed her to draw him away. The heat of her hand was more intoxicating than the burn of the snakebite. He fought down an urge to pull her away from the party and into the dark woods. Much as he was enjoying the warmth and laughter of the evening…she still was not fully his mate.
Soon, he promised himself. Soon.
“What was all that about back there?” she asked him, as they headed toward the bonfire.
“Diplomacy,” he replied, smiling. “Old habits die hard.”
She nipped teasingly at his arm. “No working tonight. This is an evening for fun. Enjoy it.”
He stopped, turning her to face him. Tilting her head, he ducked to plant a slow, lingering kiss on the side of her neck. Very gently, he pressed his teeth against her warm skin, and felt her shiver from head to toe in response.
“I shall,” he breathed.
From her dark eyes and the hitch in her breath, she too was contemplating the possibilities of some private, secluded glade. Nonetheless she shook herself.