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“Abigail,” Sirus offered with a small bow of his head.
“Don’t Abigail me, you wicked man,” she huffed with annoyance.
Gwen’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them so fast, she started to get dizzy.
“I’m sorry I didn’t give you any warning,” Levian apologized a bit awkwardly, gliding over to Abigail. “I didn’t think?—”
The witch raised her hand to stop the mage’s movement and words. She stared Sirus down for a few more agonizing moments before she let out a deep sigh. “I suppose it’s been long enough I can forgive,” she said with a peevish shrug of her shoulder.
Gwen’s head spun with theories about what Abigail would need to forgive Sirus for. Clearly he’d done something to upset her. And if he had, why had he suggested they come here? Once more, she felt entirely in the dark.
Abigail brushed an airy kiss over each of Levian’s cheeks. Then, with another glance at Sirus, she turned to Gwen. “What an adorable little cherub,” the witch observed with a small smile. “And such a youthful glow.”
Gwen’s anxiety cranked up, and she swallowed a lump of nerves. “Hi,” she managed, along with a weird wave, not sure if she should’ve bowed of curtsied or something.
The witch trilled with amusement. “Charming. Utterly charming. Though she could use some better clothes,” she told Levian with a judgmental glance in the mage’s direction.
Gwen looked down at herself, and a little ripple of self-conscious embarrassment crept over her. She was wearing jeans, a plain gray sweater, her jacket, and boots. The mage hadn’t mentioned anything about dressing up, and it hadn’t even crossed Gwen’s mind she should wear anything fancy. She’d been more focused on the magick mirror and figuring out her powers than her outfit. Clearly that had been a mistake.
“I think she looks quite lovely,” Levian defended as Gwen squirmed uncomfortably.
Abigail ignored her and looked sharply over her shoulder, as if she were expecting someone to be there. “Roman!” she barked. “Roman, where are the refreshments?”
Gwen winced at the pitch of her voice. It was like nails on a chalkboard.
A man came shuffling into the room two seconds later, and Gwen’s jaw nearly hit the floor. Unlike Henry, who was dressed in an elegant suit, Roman wore almost nothing. Only a pair of black slacks, shoes, and white gloves. From the waist up, he was completely unclothed, displaying his smooth, round, muscular chest and deeply bronzed skin.
Roman nervously scampered over to Abigail, holding a gold tray of champagne glasses filled to the brim. Abigail eyed him hungrily as she took a glass. “Be more attentive next time,” she chastised warmly, brushing his muscled shoulder with her fingers.
Gwen looked to Levian with a silent, What the hell?
The mage replied with her own look—I warned you—and took a glass of champagne. “You’re new,” Levian observed sweetly.
Roman flashed a nervous smile in return but didn’t say a word.
“He’s only been with me a few months,” Abigail remarked. “But he’s been doing an excellent job so far, hasn’t he, Henry?”
Roman reacted to her praise with a vibrant smile. Henry only glared at the half-naked man.
Abigail encouraged her shirtless attendant to keep passing out the champagne, and he jumped to it. He skipped Sirus and came straight for Gwen. In a panic, she shakily took a glass, not sure what else to do or where to look. “Th-thanks,” she offered. Roman smiled, a bit of his curly, ear-length black hair falling over one of his lavender eyes.
He looked just like an underwear model she’d seen on a billboard in Times Square not long ago. It was uncanny.
Roman moved to Sirus next, and the vampire sharply told him, “No.”
“He’s half pixie,” Abigail went on, stroking the half-dressed man’s bulging bicep when he came back to her side. “He somehow snuck into one of my parties in Paris, the little scamp.” Roman blushed and gave a guilty little shrug. Abigail sighed. “We’ve been inseparable since, haven’t we, Cookie?”
Cookie? Gwen’s stomach churned.
The witch stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers, and Roman affectionately nuzzled into her touch. Clearly they were both into…whatever this was, but the whole thing made Gwen feel extremely awkward. No one else seemed bothered or surprised in the slightest. That only made her feel worse.
“Will you be needing anything else?” Henry asked, thankfully interrupting the lovefest.
“Escort Sirus out to the garden,” Abigail ordered him.
Gwen’s stomach dropped and she glanced sideways over to the vampire. His jaw was tense. His eyes focused on the witch.
“We made plans for a girls’ night, and a girls’ night we shall have,” Abigail declared, swigging heavily from her glass of champagne. “Besides we’ve been having some problems with rabbits. Maybe you can scare them off while you’re prowling about.”
