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“Special effects,” Holt said quickly. “Just… clever rigging and stuff.” Under his breath, he muttered, “I told him not to do that tonight.”
High Lord Crossbody shot toward the ring and landed gracefully in the centre, smoothing back his hair as he gave another sultry smile and lifted his arms into the air to turn in a slow circle. The crowd was screaming, and Blood Suckapunch was making a big show of pacing back and forth and hissing at High Lord Crossbody.
Someone hurried toward the ring with a mic, which Blood Suckapunch snatched up.
“I’m gonna rip those wings off your body, pretty boy,” he snarled into the mic, grinning wide to bare his fangs when the crowd screamed and cheered.
There was another group of people in the audience holding up signs and waving them frantically. SHOW US THOSE BIG FAT FANGS, one said. Another declared, SUCKAPUNCH THEM IN THE FACE, BLOOD DADDY.
A second microphone was passed to High Lord Crossbody, who tossed his shimmering hair back over his shoulder and waited for a long, dramatic pause until the crowd simmered down enough.
“Try it, bloodbag,” he purred into the mic, his voice low and smooth and musical. The crowd went wild again.
“Oooh, smack-talk,” I said excitedly, already distracted from the mind-blowingly good special effects they had here. I heard Holt huff in amusement beside me.
“You can rip my wings off when you finally beat me,” High Lord Crossbody said into the mic. “But who thinks that’s going to happen tonight, hmm?”
There was a chorus of simultaneous boos and cheers from the crowd.
Blood Suckapunch hissed into his own mic. “Not sure where a bottom-of-the-barrel romance novel hero got all this confidence. Who reads fae romance, anyway? It’s all about the vampires, am I right?” He yelled the last part, throwing his arm up, and the audience went wild yet again.
There was a big screen broadcasting a close-up live stream of the ring on the back wall, and it let me clearly see High Lord Crossbody’s nostrils flaring with outrage.
Just as he started speaking into the mic, the door to the private box was flung open behind us.
“Fuuuck, Cora took sooo long,” Larkin drawled. “And she did a giant dump. Seriously, where does she actually store it in this tiny body?”
Before I could glance back at him, a head of bright pink hair appeared between me and Holt as Larkin leaned over the back of the couch.
“Oh shit, I missed Suckapunch’s entrance? God, he is so hot.” Larkin nudged my shoulder with his elbow. “Right? Look at his ass in those tiny panties. And his stomach. Shit, I wanna lick his stomach. Once he’s all sweaty from wrestling.”
I chuckled. “He’s pretty hot, yeah.”
“He’s not that hot,” Holt muttered from his other side.
I glanced over at him, but froze when I saw Larkin.
His skin was now a pale blue. His features had grown sharper, eyes bigger, ears long and pointed. And there were insectoid wings poking out the back of his shirt.
Holt glanced over too, then his face went tight and he stiffened.
“For fuck’s sake, Larkin,” he barked.
Larkin reared back and defensively said, “I wanted to be comfortable!”
“I told you to… stay out of costume tonight!”
“Yeah, well, why do you get to be… in costume?” Larkin shot back. “My wings were getting itchy, man.”
My brows twitched. “Were you wearing them under your suit the whole time?”
Larkin stared at me blankly for a second, then darted a look at Holt and nodded quickly. “Yep. Uh-huh.”
“Well…” I glanced at Holt. He looked furious. “I like your costume,” I told Larkin. “You look kinda like him—like High Lord Crossbody.”
Larkin preened. “That’s because we’re the same—” He side-eyed Holt. “Uh… type of character.”
I nodded. “Cool.”
