“Shit.”
“Ooh, I see George.” Hattie pulled a little spray bottle out of her purse, squirted some of the contents into her mouth, and then dropped the small cannister back into the bag. “I’ll catch up with you lot later.” And off she went.
Xavier rubbed his hands. “All right, let’s go waste our money.”
Wandering from table to table and stall to stall, they pretty much did exactly that. Eventually, they made their way to the battle square, where they managed to win back a lot of the cash they’d lost, since they were pretty good at predicting which fighter would come out on top.
At one point, hands clamped on Wynter’s hips, and a mouth grazed her temple. “Thought I might find you over here, little witch.”
She smiled, her body perking up in all the best places. Although her earlier conversation with Ishtar had filled her with doubts, Wynter had chosen to shake them off. He’d given her no reason to believe he was using her, and she wasn’t going to let Ishtar poison what they had unless, or until, proof of such a claim appeared. “I figured you’d be playing poker with the other Ancients or something.”
“One game was enough.” Cain hummed. “What a view.”
Realizing he was looking at her cleavage, she rolled her eyes.Typical boy.
He nipped her earlobe. “Now I’m remembering the time I thrust my cock between your breasts until I came all over them,” he whispered.
She swallowed at the memory, her hormones getting all stirred up. “You’re mean to do this to me here.”
He let out a wicked chuckle and, curling his arm around her waist, moved to her side. “Who did you place your money on?”
“The lamia. And I’m glad. She’s totally wiping the floor with the vampire.” The lamia continued to do exactly that, and victory was very soon hers. The crowd’s winnings were handed out. Wynter happily accepted hers and pocketed the cash.
Just then, another Ancient sidled up to them and nodded. “Cain, Wynter.”
“Hey, Azazel,” she greeted simply.
His gaze cut to Anabel, and his brow creased. “What’s with the rash?”
“I’m allergic to crowds.” The blonde tilted her head. “Why are you wearing a tin foil hat?”
Xavier leaned into her. “Not real,” he muttered.
She closed her eyes. “Dammit.”
Delilah nudged Wynter, chuckling. “Get a look at Hattie staring at George’s ass while he’s tossing hoops at the bottles. I don’t know how to feel about the fact that her sex life is currently better than mine.”
“And mine,” added Xavier.
“Only because you’re set on fighting Elias and his boyfriend,” Delilah pointed out. “A threesome would spice things up for sure.”
Xavier narrowed his eyes. “You know as well as I do that Elias is just messing with me.”
“That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t gladly fuck you.”
Anabel’s face softened, her eyes landing on her shoulder. “Aw, how beautiful. I love butterflies.” She began uttering soft, non-intelligible sounds to the flying insect that only she could see.But then her brow puckered, and she glanced up at Xavier. “It’s not real, is it?”
“Oh no, it’s real,” he assured her.
A sigh of relief slipped out of Anabel, and she smiled brightly. “Good. For a second there, I was worried I was embarrassing myself cooing over thin air.” Shaking her head at herself, as if she’d been dumb to doubt her eyes, she went back to freaking serenading a non-existent butterfly.
Wynter shot Xavier a hard look, but before she could order the lying bastard to tell her the truth, Delilah leaned into Wynter and whispered, “We need to teach her a lesson or she’s not gonna stop carelessly sampling her wares.”
That was true enough.
Azazel turned to Wynter. “What is happening?” he asked quietly, glancing briefly at Anabel, who was putting her fingers to her shoulder and trying to coax the ‘butterfly’ to walk onto her hand.
“She experiments on herself with her potions,” Wynter explained, her voice low. “There are often temporary after-effects. Hence the rash and hallucinations.”