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Witches Get Stitches

Page 21

by Juliette Cross


  “Where’ve you been?” I asked, thinking maybe this would give me more information on her current state of duress.

  She shot up into a sitting position, blazing with anger. “To the last interview before they choose finalists for the contest. And that asshat grim did nothing but gloat, like he already knew he had it in the bag. If he makes the finals with me, he’s going to need a serious attitude adjustment or I’m going to wipe that superior smile right off his face.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. This was not Livvy. She didn’t get ruffled easily, if at all. “What does he do that bothers you so much?”

  “Breathes.” She narrowed her blue eyes, getting that far-off look as if imagining what she wanted to do to her enemy.

  Oh, hell. I think I knew what was going on. My psychic eye buzzed in agreement. “And what does this grim aura make you feel, sis?”

  She snapped her gaze back to me. Then she zoned in on my neck, her demeanor shifting dramatically. “You little ho.” She swung her legs over the side to face me, her expression positively gleeful. “You finally did the deed with Nico!”

  “Can you say it louder? Because I don’t think the whole building heard you.”

  “We did,” Sean called from the front lobby.

  She clapped her hands together then reached over and grabbed my shoulders to shake me back and forth.

  “What is this?” I laughed at her theatrics.

  “I’m so excited!”

  “Why?”

  She stopped shaking me like a ragdoll then rolled her eyes. “Why? Because you two have been circling each other for forever. The amount of pheromones you’ve both been putting off could impregnate a nunnery.”

  “Should I be worried that you think people can get pregnant from pheromones?”

  She batted my factual words away. Far be it from me to make some sense.

  “Tell me,” she whispered. “How was it?”

  To say I couldn’t stop the maniacal grin that creased my face was an understatement. It was a natural response to the mention of Nico and our sexathon last night.

  “Yes! We should celebrate. Are you done for the day?” She glanced around as if waiting to find a client lurking in a corner.

  “Yeah.” I stood and put the book in my backpack to carry home. Jules would kill me if I left this book lying around. “Can we run by the house first so I can drop this off?”

  “Of course. Then let’s go to the pub.”

  “I should do some work on the inventory,” I mumbled to myself, feeling like I should be working longer hours to be sure everything was perfect before the grand opening celebration.

  “Nope.” She popped off the reclining chair, linked her arm with mine, and hauled me off my stool. “Time for booze and details. Let’s go.”

  I sighed while laughing as Livvy led the way because she wasn’t a force you could stop once she set her mind on something.

  Chapter 20

  ~NICO~

  * * *

  I’d spent the entire afternoon helping Mateo install one of his new sculptures in the lobby of a downtown corporation. I hadn’t seen Violet since she left my place after breakfast and I was starting to get fidgety. I was already going through withdrawal, needing a hit of my vicious addiction: Violet Savoie.

  I wasn’t kidding. My wolf paced my inner walls, wondering why the fuck we weren’t glued to her all day long. Why we weren’t buried deep inside her, night and day.

  “You okay?” Mateo asked as we climbed into his vintage truck parked right off of Canal Street.

  “Mmhm.”

  He started the engine, gaze darting to my lap. I glanced down, noticing I was doing that guitar-strumming-on-my-pants-leg thing that I tended to do as a nervous habit. Right now, I was playing one of Eddie Van Halen’s solos in my head, my fingers moving a hundred miles a minute.

  Mateo pulled away from the curb and headed toward Magazine Street. Unable to help it any longer, I shot her a quick text to ask her what she was doing. Within ten seconds, I saw the dots moving as she answered.

  Violet: Drinking whiskey.

  Me: Jealous. Can I join you?

  Violet: If you can stand being around my obnoxiously drunk sister and two other lovebirds.

  What? I smiled at her odd, but very Violet, response.

  Me: Where are you?

  Violet: The Cauldron.

  “What is that goofy look about?” Mateo grinned as he glanced over before turning onto Magazine.

  “Violet. You mind dropping me off at the Cauldron?”

  “I’ll come with you. Evie’s working the afternoon shift. Should be off soon.”

  I let her know I was on my way and stared out at the neighborhood as the bars and restaurants’ lights started popping on.

  I loved this city at night, particularly where we lived. It had an energy that was both electric and intimate. Not that everyone knew each other, because it wasn’t that small a neighborhood, but intimate in the way that we all belonged. And now that I finally had convinced Violet to date me, I never wanted to leave this place.

  “Damn.” Mateo huffed. “It took you two long enough.”

  He’d seen the signs a long time ago that I’d targeted Violet. “It took her long enough. But don’t go talking out of your ass around her.”

  “What does that mean?” his voice came out a little growly. His wolf, Alpha, seemed to be tormenting him more than usual lately.

  “That means she doesn’t know how badly I want her.” How badly I need her. “And I need to keep it that way for now.”

  Mateo regarded me with a flick of his eyes before turning to the road and nodding. “Good call. Might want to keep that under wraps for now. Violet doesn’t seem to be the kind who’d like to be cornered.”

  “Well”—my mouth quirked up into a smile—“sometimes she does.”

  He laughed. He would be the only one I could joke with about that. Mateo was the brother I never had. We’d shared more than one secret over the years. When I struggled to leave the Blood Moon pack, he literally knocked some sense into me. We’d gotten into a brawl when I wasn’t willing to leave.

  Before that, I’d noticed that some of the pack lost control of their tempers and their beasts more and more often. It was infuriating. Both because I understood their pain but also because I wanted to turn wolf and tear into whichever asshole had lost his shit that day. Then I’d done just that—to a sixteen-year-old boy.

  That’s when I’d started to pull away from them slowly, realizing that it was safer for everyone if I lived alone.

  I’d still spent time with Shane. He’d been my first friend in Austin and had introduced me on the music scene. I’d counted him as my best friend for a long while. But he’d started to notice how I was finding more excuses not to run with the pack, not to hang with them and stir up shit in bars.

  Their idea of fun was to go looking for motorcycle gangs to pick a fight with and beat each other bloody. I was tired of giving in to my violent side. It was bad enough that the beast took over once a month, but their ways only amplified our natural aggression. Then that day with Ty.

  He and his other teenage buddies, all werewolves, were horsing around in the clubhouse, an old mechanic shop turned into a hangout. Ty had spilled a beer on one of the newest members, who then immediately shifted. I jumped in, half-shifting, and pushed him away from the boys.

  But then someone grabbed my arm. On pure, wild instinct, I turned and swiped a claw right across Ty’s face and neck. The sight of that boy falling to the floor, his blood pooling on the concrete, had nearly broken me.

  Thankfully, we had a warlock, a Conduit, who we paid to patch up our guys after brawls. Witches didn’t normally help us. The stigma ran deep, and for good reason if you’d seen Ty’s throat opened and bleeding. But we paid the warlock well, so he came and saved Ty. The scars remained. After that, I fell into a foul mood. For months. Then Mateo punched the fuck out of me a couple times and told me to wake up and get the hell away from that tox
ic pack.

  I’d been looking for my moment to leave when we were invited to that New Year’s Eve party. And the second I laid eyes on Violet Savoie, I knew when I was leaving, where I was going, and why. The pack became instant history, and she became my present and future.

  I’d been patient for so long that I could hardly refrain from blurting out to her how I felt now that she’d opened herself up to me, to the idea of us. But no, the current course of action was the best one. Continue to seduce her body, then steal her heart when she wasn’t looking.

  Mateo turned onto the side street where the Savoie house was. It would be easier to park in their driveway and walk around the block to the Cauldron. One thing that was always limited in New Orleans was parking.

  People buzzed from one pub or restaurant to the next. I waved to Clara as we passed Mystic Maybelle’s. She was locking the front glass door, closing up shop. She gave us a friendly wave and sweet smile from the other side.

  We strode quickly to the Cauldron next door and entered, hearing the trilling laughter from the bar the second we stepped inside. There weren’t many customers but the music was turned up a tad louder than usual. Right now, “The Promise” by When In Rome was playing, which told me that Livvy had taken over the playlist. It was her laughter that echoed across the pub.

  At the bar, my gaze zeroed in on Violet sitting next to Charlie with Livvy on the other side. I sidled toward them. Evie wove through the tables to deliver three beers to a four-top before stepping over to give Mateo a kiss hello. I moved quickly to Violet’s side.

  “Hey.” I wrapped a hand around her waist and brushed a kiss against her cheek.

  She twisted sideways on her stool, facing Charlie, and looked up at me. No, beaming up at me.

  “Hey, yourself.” She didn’t have the glassy, tipsy look Livvy had. Or even Charlie propped on his stool, his blond hair disheveled as though he’d run his hand through it one too many times.

  “Nicooooo!” Livvy literally screamed. “You have to play with us! Come on, come on.”

  “What are we playing?”

  Violet grinned, staring at her gregarious sister. “One of Livvy’s drinking games.”

  “It’s called Straight Face,” declared Livvy, her s’s slurring a bit.

  Thank goodness she only had to walk home around the block from here.

  “How do you play?” I asked, just then noticing a bunch of scraps of paper on the bar top.

  Violet reached for a piece of paper and a pencil, but Livvy lunged across Charlie to grab one herself.

  “No, no, no! I’m going to do Nico.” Then she burst out laughing. “I mean, not do him, do him. Because that’s Violet’s job.”

  Violet’s jaw dropped as she stared at Livvy. I simply basked in the open admission.

  Charlie turned toward me finally, giving me a sexy wink. “You devil. Finally got it in, eh?”

  Violet punched him on the arm.

  “Ow!” He grimaced and rubbed the spot. “Be gentle, you barbarian.”

  “Everybody shut your drunken pieholes. What Nico and I do is none of the whole bar’s business.”

  She glanced beyond my shoulder, but no one was paying attention to us.

  I squeezed her hip where I hadn’t let it go since the second I made it to her side. “So how do I play?”

  “Easy peasy,” said Livvy, scribbling something on her scrap of paper. “JJ!” she yelled down the bar where JJ was serving another customer. “We need a drink!” She pointed to me. Livvy was one of those fun-and-loud drunks. She turned to me and handed over the slip of paper. “All you have to do is read the slip of paper without laughing or smiling or reacting in any way.”

  “That’s it?” I asked.

  “That’s it,” she confirmed, grinning like a she-devil.

  Just as I was opening the scrap of paper, JJ set a glass of whiskey over ice in front of me. I read the message Livvy had scribbled: Violet said you made her come like a rocket at least five times.

  I’d been determined to keep a straight face, but there was no way in hell I could keep from grinning at that one.

  “Drink!” yelled Livvy, shoving my whiskey closer to me.

  “Like a rocket?” asked Charlie, peering sideways at the paper. “Not sure about that metaphor, Livvy. Maybe he came like a rocket.”

  I crumpled the paper and slipped it into my back pocket.

  “Pfft.” Livvy made a highly undignified noise through her lips with a drunken wave of her hand.

  “What was it?” asked Violet, reaching around to my back pocket.

  I let her slide her fingers along my ass to retrieve the message, ready to drag her out of here and back to my place three minutes ago.

  When Violet read it, she gasped. “Livvy!” Then she grabbed another piece of paper and started scribbling something down. “My turn.”

  I moved up behind her, sliding both hands around her waist and leaning over to read her message for Livvy. I was confused at the message: I bet that grim makes you cream in your panties every time you see him.

  She slid the piece of paper over with a superior look. I leaned down and whispered, “What grim?”

  She waved me off as Livvy took the scrap of paper and opened it. Her stoic face turned mutinous before she let out a growl/scream of frustration. She snapped her fiery gaze to Violet.

  “He in no way affects me in no possible way!”

  “You said no way twice,” chimed in Charlie, his gaze on JJ walking back toward us. “Is that a double negative?” He had that drunken confused look on his face that made him look quite young.

  “Drink!” ordered Violet.

  “Why? That wasn’t funny. I didn’t laugh at all.”

  “You said we couldn’t react in any possible way. You definitely did not keep a straight face.”

  “Fine.” She glared at Violet, tilting her drink back. Slamming the glass tumbler on the bar, she narrowed her gaze, looking off into space. “Did y’all know that grims are telepathic?”

  We all swiveled our attention to Livvy.

  “I don’t know anything about grims,” I admitted. No one did. They were as silent as the grave when it came to their abilities. Or anything at all about them, quite frankly.

  “No one does,” said Violet before excitedly asking, “How do you know they’re telepathic?”

  Livvy held up her empty glass for JJ to see down the bar, shaking it so that the glass clinked. “Because he telepathed something to me.”

  “He who?” asked Charlie, frowning in confusion.

  Violet grinned. “That guy in the contest with her. Gareth Blackwater. What did he say to you?”

  “He didn’t say anything.” Her brows rose haughtily, but her face flushed with pink.

  “He sent an image?” I asked.

  “Yes!” she snapped. “It was an accident, actually.” She giggled and then she suddenly yell-whispered, framing her mouth with one hand as if to keep her voice from carrying, “And it wasn’t appropriate.”

  “What was it?” asked Violet.

  When Livvy’s gaze whipped to Violet, my girl suddenly gasped then burst out laughing. The sound filled me with a sweet emotion.

  I squeezed her hip. “What?”

  Violet craned her neck toward me so I leaned down. “Livvy is telepathic, too. She sent me the image. Or ten-second video rather.” Violet waggled her eyebrows. “He’s a naughty grim.”

  Livvy shook her glass in the air again for JJ, who finally headed our way. “Don’t worry. I’m going to get him back.” She gave me her Cruella smile, and I knew that poor man was in trouble.

  JJ braced both hands wide on the bar in front of Charlie and Livvy. “Not sure you should drink anymore, Liv.”

  “One more! You and Charlie can walk me home.”

  “It would be my honor,” said Charlie, placing a hand over his heart, his eyes as bleary as hers.

  “So”—I leaned in close to Violet’s ear—“what lovebirds were you talking about in your text?”


  She pointed to Charlie and JJ.

  “What? No way.” I eyed the two men who I’d become friends with over the past year or so. “But you told me they’re just friends. Best friends.”

  “Yeah, well, friends can apparently turn into something else sometimes.”

  “They can.” I squeezed my hands around her waist, hearing the insinuation in her expressive voice. “But are you sure?”

  She snorted and nodded her head as JJ leaned forward to hear something Charlie was telling him. Then out of the blue, while Charlie was still talking, JJ grasped the back of Charlie’s neck then dragged him closer and planted a kiss on his lips. And it wasn’t just a peck.

  When Charlie made a little whimpering sound, JJ released him and turned back to the bar, but not before he gave Charlie a heated look that promised more later.

  “Whoa,” I whispered against her temple.

  “Yeah,” she said, grinning. “About fucking time.” She said the last part louder, which got Charlie’s attention.

  “I could say the same about you,” he snapped back, but his haughtiness was washed away by the significant pink blush high on his cheekbones.

  Mateo finally ambled up next to us and raised a hand to JJ, who then pulled a longneck from the stand-up freezer and popped the top before handing it over.

  “I missed something fun,” he said, taking a swig of his beer.

  “You so did,” chimed in Livvy, still at that too-loud decibel. “FYI, Nico is banging Violet. And JJ is banging Charlie. Or Charlie is banging JJ. Well, both. Can Violet bang Nico?” Now she wore the drunk-and-confused expression. “Unsure if this term allows the girl to do the banging, since it seems to refer to penetration rather than just fucking.”

  “Right,” said Mateo, taking another swig of his beer. “Be right back.” Then he headed down the short hallway to the bathrooms.

  Charlie started debating with Livvy over the semantics of the term banging, basically explaining that it’s simply a synonym of fucking so there was no need for any discrimination on whether the person is the banger or bangee. It was nonsense, but I didn’t care.

 

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