Page 52 of Live Love Lasso

A dark elf’s large form is a nearly sacred thing to experience. Furyon and I haven’t even discussed his, but the idea of him growing to twice the height and size is…appealing. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that, in that form, his blood becomes liquid ruby that’s nearly priceless in vampire circles. Millennia ago, elves were hunted for that blood, so these days most dark elves only show their large form to their mates.

Which means I might actually get to see that at some point.

I think back to how he was last night in bed, the way he talked to me like I was nothing but a baseless slut.

And I fucking loved it.

Even thinking about it makes me hot.

“Okay, stop thinking about sex.” Oz wrinkles his nose. “I can literally smell it.”

A loud horn plays a series of shrill blasts. Bluebell starts hopping in place. “Ah, it’s time!!! Let’s head to our seats.”

I grab a couple carrots for the road. “We in the nosebleeds?”

Oz bumps my hip. “You wish, vamp girl.”

I laugh as Bluebell shoves her way between us and puts an arm around our waists. “Field-level seats. My entire family is obsessed with skyball, and the Punishers are, like, the best team in the haven system. We’ve had season tickets for ages.”

Fifteen minutes later, I understand the appeal. Bluebell’s mother, father, and three older brothers sit in the seats next to us with foam fingers galore. Her brother Jasper messes with Bluebell’s space buns, poking and prodding her with the foam finger. She’s clearly exasperated, but it has Oz and me in stitches. Her family seems amazing, and it makes me grieve in a way because my family’s never been like that.

No. The Dentons are driven, exceptional, famous. Cold. I haven’t even talked to my brother since I got here even though he’s hologram’d me twice. And truly, I haven’t wanted to. Talking to him would produce nothing in me but fury and a deep sense of betrayal.

Shouts rise up around the field, monsters stomping in the stadium seats until it's so loud, I almost have to cover my ears. Next to me, Bluebell is shrieking her face off, waving two foam fingers. On the far right of the field, gates open and the players jog out wearing the Punishers’ black and gold uniforms. Short shorts and biceps-hugging sleeves showcase precisely what this team has to offer.

And it is delicious.

“Al-ka-zar! Al-ka-zar!” The whole stadium seems to echo with that one name.

I turn to Oz, shouting over the din, “That’s the guy we saw in the middle of the street, right? He just moved here?”

“Yeah!” Bluebell waggles her dark brows at me. “He’s Jasper’s bestie, pretty sure he moved here just for their bromance!”

Oz butts in, “I wish that were true. I’d thrust myself in there for some threesome love.” He humps my hip suggestively while Bluebell slaps him with both foam fingers.

And for the first time since I got in town, I feel like a Gulcher. I’m standing here getting humped by a gay gargoyle and foam-fingered by a sassy human witch with black and gold freckles, and I couldn’t be happier about it.

“Al-ka-zar!” she shrieks Hadrian’s name in my face. Over her head, Jasper rolls his eyes at us, clearly over his sister’s antics.

She’s got Oz and me riled up though. We each grab one of the foam fingers and start chanting Alkazar’s name right along with her. On the field, the handsome dark-skinned gargoyle spins slowly in place, both hands raised as if in thanks.

The fans go wild, Bluebell and Jasper losing their fucking minds. Hadrian turns, spots them, and a smile lights up his face. He shoots up into the air and spins through it toward us, executing a perfect backflip and landing in front of Jasper. His smile is radiant but goofy as he throws his arms around his friend, clapping him on the back. Jasper faux punches Hadrian in the gut, and the huge gargoyle doubles over as if it hurt.

When he rises, he winks at Bluebell, then thumps her on the nose with a wicked grin.

Oz and I exchange glances as she looks up at Hadrian, her expression cautious. I’ve never seen a neutral expression on her face a single moment since we met. I swear Bluebell’s got even more opinions than my friend Kingston back home, and she does not bother to hide a single one. Zero poker face to speak of.

I smell a story, and I’m going to ask the moment he gives us space.

But the crowd is wild for him, and he jogs away. The moment he does, I open my mouth to say something, but Jasper leans in, and Bluebell steps on my toe, eyes wide, a barely perceptible shake of the head.

“He’s amazing,” Jasper shouts over the crowd. “We’re so lucky he agreed to come to the Gulch!”

“Yeah, lucky!” Oz shouts back.

Bluebell smiles and grabs a foam finger back from me, shoving it on her hand and lifting it high. “Al-ka-zar! Al-ka-zar!”

Hoboy. Alkazar indeed. Maybe now isn’t the right time to grill her, but I need the deets, stat.