Two demons and a human sauntered inside, and they stank of cigarettes, booze, and sweat.
Vegar and Zenith fell onto their bed in a tangle of limbs and smacking lips.
Young love. Not relatable.
A flying projectile hit me out of nowhere, and the impact cracked my head at an awkward angle.
I broke my neck and died.
The end.
Story over.
I wish.
“You’re finally back!” John bounced up and down on my bed aggressively and rattled my dislocated neck bone. “I’ve been losing my mind with worry.”
The depressive ambiance I’d spent hours carefully cultivating was ruined, and now I’d have to start wallowing all over again. Still, warm relief exploded in my sternum.
John was okay.
“What ya thinking about?” John asked with a grin.
“How much I hate you.” I narrowed my eyes. “Wait, weren’t you tied up? How did you get out? I’ve also been worried. It’s been days.”
“The servants freed me. Then Lyla healed me and made us all wait in a separate room until Lothaire got back. I think she forgot about us though.” John ruffled my curly hair, and his dimples disappeared as he became serious.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “How long have you been back, my little Smurf bestie?”
I shook my head because I didn’t want to upset him. “I just got back. I’ve been fine. Nothing really happened.”
Disturbing events in my life were frankly not surprising or special enough to be worth noting.
John narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe me.
I squirmed under his scrutiny.
Horse must have sensed my unease, because he made a show of pecking at John’s eyeballs.
“Good Horsey.” I gave him air kisses. “Mommy loves you.”
He squawked back, which roughly translated to, I love you Momma, and pecked harder to show me his devotion. Or maybe he was summoning Hades, the legendary king from the Olympus realm renowned for his ferocity.
You could never tell these days.
John wrapped his arms around my shoulders and strangled me—that or he was giving me a hug?
I honestly couldn’t tell.
His technique was horrible, and he exerted just enough pressure to make me feel weird.
“What are you doing?” I thumped against the hard muscles on his back.
John ruffled my hair. “Um, I’m hugging my bestie? Don’t be so dramatic.” He whispered conspiratorially, “Wait, are you on your period?”
I prayed for death.
“Just because I’m a woman,” I scoffed, “you think I have my period? You sexist pig. Fae don’t ovulate until they’re twenty-five, and I’m only twenty-four. Duh.”
Now that I knew my sperm donor was a vampyre, I had confirmation that I’d gotten my powers from my mother.
All along I’d hoped I was something special, but it turned out I really was just a failure of a water fae. It was pretty obvious, since I looked so much like Mother.
Still, it was good to have closure. My lack of fae ears had given me hope. Mother had probably just cut off the tips when I was a baby because she was mad.
I mean, the woman had been clinically insane.
No judgment though.
We all struggled.
Except, maybe judgment because she’d lit me on fire every night for years?
At least she’d been consistent. It was hard to find people with discipline these days.
John pursed his lips as he continued to half hug, half strangle me. “So you don’t have your period. You’re just being a bitch?”
I punched him in the throat.
Hard.
Horse cawed with excitement and flew into the wall with such speed he dissipated, because he wasn’t the brightest.
John didn’t gasp for air—proper throat-punching decorum—instead, he arched a brow and jumped up with his elbow extended.
Six and a half feet of male slammed me into the overly squishy mattress, and I saw stars.
John might only be a human, but he was thick. The boy knew how to eat, and it felt like a five-hundred-pound weight was smothering me.
“You oaf. Get off,” I snapped as I tried to choke him with my thighs.
John wrapped an arm round my throat and squeezed. “You’re being like super bitchy right now.”
“Gonna shmove a bitch down yourst throatm.” I raked my long nails down his arm aggressively.
“Don’t be such a girl.” He grinned and didn’t let up. “It will seriously ruin the vibe of our friendship.”
My nails pulled out a chunk of his flesh, and he paused.
I used his surprise to kick him in the balls.
“Low blow,” John croaked as he curled into the fetal position and moaned.
“Don’t be such a man,” I mocked. “It’s ruining our friendship.”
John smiled, between the moments he writhed and groaned, and flashed his dimples as his dark eyes twinkled.
“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” I sucked on my pipe and rubbed at my sore throat. “You were baiting me.”
He winked. “Guilty as charged. I guess you’ll have to spank me now, you beautiful blue-haired goddess.”
I combed my fingers through the ridiculously curly mass that now hung to my waist. It was heavy and annoying.
Of course John would make fun of it.
Playing along, I leaned across the bed and slapped his butt. “Count to ten,” I said in a deep voice like I’d heard Malum do when he was acting like a pervert and spanking women with his belt.
“Oh yes, mistress,” John yelled in a dramatic high-pitched voice. “One,” he moaned exaggeratedly.
My cheeks flushed, and I pulled my hand away from his butt like it burned. Had it always been so firm?
Friends did not spank friends and enjoy it.
That was a rule.
“Please, mistress, let me have your spanks,” John said dramatically between laughs.
He was ridiculous.
“I just threw up in my mouth,” I said with a grimace.
John laughed harder. “Same. Between the two of us, I wouldn’t be the one being spanked.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?”
“Nothing,” John smirked and rested a hand on his messy hair as he flexed.
“What are you doing right now?”
“Nothing,” he repeated and winked, long dark lashes fluttering. “Why do you ask?”
I pointed at his face. “That’s what I’m talking about. Why did you just wink? And are you flexing right now?”
John tipped his head back and exposed the thick column of his throat. He swallowed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re being weird.”
John pouted, and his perfect white teeth dug into his thick lower lip. “Baby girl, don’t be like that.”
Why was my best friend being so weird?
A strange sensation churned in my lower stomach.
For a long second, we stared at each other in silence.
John flung his head back, laughing. “You should see your face right now.” He gasped. “Baby.” He laughed harder as he slapped my bed with his palm. “Girl.”
“Oh, shut up.” I punched him in the gut. “You’re not funny.”
“Could you imagine if I called you ‘baby girl’？” John gasped for air and wiped at his eyes. “You’re not anyone’s baby girl. I can tell you that for free.”