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“Or the class we come from,” Lucan mutters. “Where are the twins?”
Bram scours the room again, then nods toward a dark corner of the pub. “Raiden is keeping a brunette company.”
The big blond wizard isn’t even trying to hide the fact he’s kissing a human woman senseless while inching his hand under her skirt. When they pull apart seconds later, he murmurs something to the flushed, dazed woman, who nods enthusiastically. They slip out the back and disappear into the alley.
Bram sighs. “Like father—”
“Like sons,” Lucan finishes, tossing his head toward another wizard, this one with black hair brushing his broad shoulders. He crowds around the bar, his unblinking stare on the barmaid.
As she pours and schleps drinks with good-natured jokes and flirty winks, she steals glances at Ronan. So the feeling is mutual.
“If Raiden is any indication, humans and magickind can hook up, right?” I whisper.
“Absolutely. Variety is the spice of life.” Bram grins.
I roll my eyes. Typical male. If Karma is real, I hope he meets his match someday—and that she’ll bring him to his knees. “But are there any laws or taboos preventing humans and someone magical from mating? I mean, Marrok and I did, but we had no idea—”
“No…it’s just a lot of explaining to a human why they don’t need Botox or funeral planning for another few hundred years.”
“Do you think she knows Ronan is…you know?”
Bram shrugs. “Probably not. I doubt she knows about any of these blokes. Or if she does, she’s taking it in stride.”
“We have stood like statues near the door long enough. I like not the way stares are beginning to linger. Speak to the twins and let us go,” Marrok mutters, glowering to the room.
“On second thought, maybe now isn’t the best time for this conversation,” Bram admits. “And here is too public for what I have to say.”
“Kari,” calls a man who looks forty-something with a salt-and-pepper beard. “Another ale to warm my bones?”
“You got it. Never let it be said I let you leave the Brew unhappy.”
“I’d be a mite happier if you’d come home with me, lovely.”
She laughs. “You may be, but I doubt your wife would.”
Most cackle around him. Ronan sits stiffly, looking half-ready to come across the bar and beat the man to death.
“We’ve come this far,” I murmur. “Obviously a bunch of people know who you are, but what if I tried to talk to him? He might be less hostile since I’m not going to proposition his girl.”
“You might be on to something,” Bram muses.
Marrok scowls down at me. “You will not leave my side.”
Is he serious? “It’s twelve feet across the room.”
“I care not if ’tis twelve inches. Nay.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I jerk away from him and march down the handful of stairs to the pit in which the main bar sits, then slide onto the stool beside Ronan.
He turns to me, his expression somewhere between irritated and displeased. For a second, I just stare. He’s freaking gorgeous. In fact, all these guys are—Lucan, Bram, the strangers at the bar… Does magickind just make prettier men?
“What?” Ronan snaps.
Yeah, I should stop staring and start talking. “Um, I came to…um, talk to you about—”
“Not interested, American.” He turns his gaze back to Kari.
“I’m not propositioning you.” I drop my voice. “I’m mated.”
