“Delicious,” he purred.
I stared down at the obscene bulge tenting the front of his jeans. That had to be uncomfortable.
“Don’t you want to, um, let me take care of that for you?” It was good that my cheeks were already red. Talking dirty didn’t come naturally to me, despite my determination to be a badass witch.
Rasmus’s fingers curled around my neck. “No, my darling. I would rather not have to kill anyone who walked in on us. Not here.”
“Why not here?” Sure, a murder or two would make a mess of the books, but my vampire didn’t usually care about such things.
“Because this is one of my favorite places in the city. I’ve been visiting ever since it opened back in 1851.”
I looked around with new appreciation for the history of the building, noting for the first time the intricate detailing on the dark wood shelving and the antique brass lights.
“Has it always been a bookshop?” I reached for the books I’ddropped.
“No. It was once a salon where artists and writers met to exchange ideas. And later, it became a bar. In the 1920s, the vampire mobsters of the day opened a speakeasy in the cellar. My brethren and I spent many nights here, drinking and enjoying the company of human men and women.”
“Vampire mobsters?” Consider my mind officially blown. “Were you a mobster?”
Rasmus took my small pile of books and slipped an arm around my waist, herding me back toward the spiral staircase.
“No, darling. We Dvoraks are—were—royalty. But we enjoyed the fringe benefits of illicit drinking clubs of the time. Some of my ilk stalked the darker parts of the city for their blood sources, but I have always preferred feeding from beautiful men and women in more convivial surroundings.”
A sharp pang of jealousy slithered through my veins as I pictured my vampire with gorgeous people, all of them naked and writhing in his arms.
“No need to be jealous, my queen,” he murmured in my ear as we stepped back into the coffee shop. “None of them meant anything to me. They were nothing more than passing fancies. A fleeting pleasurable moment. Nothing mattered before you, my sweet. You are the beginning, middle, and end of my existence.”
I swooned at his words before reaching up and planting a kiss on his cheek.
“I love you.”
He smiled. “And I love you too, my darling.”
After he’d paid for my eclectic collection of books, which included a vampire romance trilogy that had scored an impressive number of five-star reviews on Magizon, we stepped out through the door and back into the plaza.
The area was still busy, with couples and small groups of humans and magicals drifting between bars and restaurants. We strolled along, hand in hand, taking our sweet time.
I’d almost forgotten why both of us wore glamours to hide our identities until I overheard my name being discussed by two mages sitting at a table outside a busy bar.
“Vane says the Blackstone witch and her consorts are slated for execution once we track the psychos down,” one murmured before raising his glass to his mouth. The other mage shuddered.
“Not surprised. I saw the images from the crime scene. Fuck, it was bad.”
I stumbled over a loose paver in shock. Flames burst from my fingers, igniting a nearby tablecloth. The two mages leaped from their chairs with a shout, scanning the crowd for the perpetrator, a.k.a. me.
Rasmus shielded me from view, and we hurried away while the mages frantically extinguished the small fire with a jug of water. I guessed neither of them was especially powerful or had water magic.What a shame.
“Stay calm,mea amica. As soon as we’re out of sight, I’ll speed us back to the mansion.”
I did my best to heed his words, but all I could think about was that my diabolical father-in-law planned to execute me for something that wasn’t my fault, which would not have happened if he hadn’t taken me prisoner.
Goddess, save us all. If I died before my twentieth birthday, life would truly suck.
40
Zane
Ipaced up and down the cavernous ballroom, using paintings of miserable fuckers in gaudy frames as target practice for my knife throwing. The vampire didn’t look impressed at the many new holes in the portraits, but I was beyond apologies.
