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After a comment like that I knew there was no way to correct Cain without making it seem like I was dismissing Wilder’s place in my life or insinuating I wanted the attention Santiago was hinting at. Besides which, just because Wilder wasn’t technically my consort didn’t mean he wouldn’t be.
We were taking things slow.
Santiago returned his focus to me and dipped his lower body in a bow while grabbing my hand and placing a kiss on my knuckles. He kept his gaze on me the whole time, making me squirm uncomfortably. “Your highn—”
“Genie. Please. For the love of God, we’ll be here all night if people keep using my full title.”
“Genie,” he repeated, turning my name over his tongue like it was a sweet chocolate.
Fuuuuuck.
“Santiago,” I replied, trying to keep my tone flat and unemotional.
“McQueen.” His brows lifted, and his entire expression changed in a heartbeat. “McQueen. Mierda.”
Shit.
Cain didn’t say anything, but he had a w
icked, knowing smile, and it was obvious he was enjoying this very much.
“La Sorcière.” Santiago took up my hands again, but this time he was investigating them more seriously, like they might hold the secrets of the universe. He traced my lifeline, my heart line, then turned my wrists so he could look at my fingernails. He raised my hand, and before I knew what he was doing he had slipped my index finger between his lips, tracing the whorls of my fingerprint with his tongue.
The air escaped from my lungs in a whoosh, and as it rushed back in I came to my senses, yanking my hand away and slapping him hard across the cheek. “What the fuck?”
Santiago touched a hand to his cheek but licked his lips unapologetically, contemplating the taste I’d left behind. My heart was pounding, and I held my hand to my chest, breathing hard.
Wilder had stepped away from the counter but no farther, watching my interaction with the witch through slitted, angry eyes.
“You,” Santiago said. “You’re the one.” His eyes were shiny with excitement, and he ran his tongue over the one gold tooth. “You are the one she chose.”
I glanced over at Cain, wondering if he might be able to bring some clarity to this insane moment, but he was observing us with his own hungry kind of interest.
I was starting to think there was a lot more to this introduction than just catching a demon.
“What?”
“You are the one La Sorcière trained.”
“Yes.”
He rubbed his palms over the runic tattoos on each side of his head, dragging his fingers through his mussed, damp curls. He muttered something in Spanish, but I didn’t speak the language.
“I’ll help you. But I want something in return.”
My God, was I going to get through this day without owing everyone in town a favor? Those sorority girls better fucking appreciate this.
“Of course you do,” I sighed.
I was suddenly exhausted and craving my bed. The light on Santiago’s stove said it was a few minutes past seven.
A lot can happen in twelve hours.
Too much.
“Yes.” Cain clapped his hands together, and the sound reverberated through the room like thunder. “Let’s discuss price.” He pointed at Santiago as he skirted the island and picked up the wine bottle, filling his glass again. On the stove, the bubbling tomato sauce, forgotten until now, began to smoke, a burning smell circulating through the room.
Wilder reached over and turned off the burner, dots of red sauce splattering on his bare forearm.
