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“Though Skipper’s is open to mortals, creatures frequent the bar,” he explained, noting my interest in the patrons. “Usually, the Coven claims the indoor portion of the bar on the nights of their exorcisms. Marty, the Fae owner, keeps it reserved for them.”
“Exorcisms?” My brow lifted sardonically, remembering the chaos the incorporeal beings could cause. “I believe I’ve endured my limit on dealings with the dead as of late.”
“Then you’re not interested in attending one tonight?”
Henry’s dark features settled into a look of long-suffering patience as I grew quiet. He couldn’t know of my obsession with a certain earth witch, but Henry could always see the crux of me despite my best efforts to remain closed off.
“Well, that’s not entirely why I brought you here tonight.” He stood and racked the empty pool table near our hutch. “Are you going to sit there all night or come play, for old time’s sake? I’ll even let you break.”
With a groan, I snagged a pool stick and leaned over the felt table, shooting the ball with little effort. Henry watched me annihilate the table, but after a few games, he broached the subject I knew would come eventually.
“Why are you here, Alexei?” he mused quietly, leaning over the table to take his shot. “Silas was incredibly vague over the phone, as per usual, and I can’t say I’m pleased to find myself in the middle of a rift between you and your father.”
“I wouldn’t let Alistair punish you for harboring me,” I started, but Henry halted me with a growl.
“You think you could stop Alistair once he’s on a self-righteous rampage? Have you lost all your sense after a decade holed up in New Orleans?”
I twisted the cubed chalk over the end of the stick with rising irritation. “You know me, Henry. Better perhaps than most vampires in my Court. But much has changed this past year. Unless I recover what Trystan stole from me, punishment for my broken exile will be the least of my worries.”
“Fucking Trystan Dubois,” Henry muttered, wincing when I made a trick shot, winning the game. “The bastard has become an even worse menace since Alistair made him general. If not for my close relationship with the Salem witches, I fear outright violence would have devolved between our people long ago.”
My lips thinned as I considered the tensions between the Boston Vampire Court and the Salem Coven. It seemed Jade was at risk of more than just catching my father’s notice.
While I racked the table, the restaurant door opened behind me, revealing the Salem Coven, led by their High Priestess. Liliane, a younger, more deranged-looking version of Rebecca Graves, waved her hands at the bartender, who started pulling rounds of apple cider with a laugh. Two young witches hurried to the vintage jukebox playing seventies music, commandeering the next few songs, while the others took their places amongst the empty tables.
“Here’s the Coven now,” Henry murmured at my side. “I thought they’d never show.”
My attention remained riveted on the witches as Jade and Tabitha Harlow, another ill-tempered witch from the New Orleans Coven, lumbered in behind the Salem witches. They stared at the Coven’s comradely with something like fascination before joining Liliane at the bar.
Tracking her movements like a predator stalking its next kill, I downed the remainder of my ale thirstily. Even in her simple denim and sweater combo, she looked sexy, the heeled leather boots a staple in my recent fantasies.
“Now I understand perfectly,” Henry said from beside me, missing nothing.
Every emotional shield rose within me to combat the truth from escaping. “I don’t have the slightest clue what you mean.”
Henry’s deep laughter grated as he patted my shoulder. “Oh, Alexei.”
My fangs snapped together at his knowing tone, but I forced them to recede as I broke the next round. The sound echoed through the room, capturing the witches’ unwavering attention.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room until the High Priestess noticed Henry. She jumped from the tall barstool to approach our shadowy corner, a beaming smile lighting up her face.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled, her sparkling gaze taking me in from head to toe like a boisterous matron. “What tall glass of water have you brought as an offering this time, Henry?”
Unbidden, my eyebrows shot up, and Henry smirked.
“You know, I learned my lesson last time, Liliane. You witches may appear innocent, but beneath your smiles lurk devious hellions. Poor Richard never recovered from whatever your Coven got him into during the Blood Moon last August.”
Liliane’s eyes shined with the memory. “Ah, a bit of sex magick never hurt anyone. You could always join us the next time we have a ritual. In fact, we’ve procured a few vats of spring blossom honey from the farm. During the next full moon, we plan on bathing in it while we renew our wards.”
Horror bloomed at the visual she painted.
Entranced by the colorful conversation unfolding before me, I nearly missed the look of dread flickering over Jade’s stunned face at the bar. She stared between Liliane and I to Tabitha, who sat perched beside her, growing paler by the second.
I lifted a brow at her, and she hurriedly trailed after Liliane, her gaze never wavering from mine. “Jade, I’ve missed you these past two days,” I said, enjoying the way her jaw clenched.
“Alexei.” Smoke practically seeped from her ears. “Why are you bothering my aunt?”
Liliane and Henry watched the two of us with widening grins.
