Chapter 35
Nessa
Her body was so hot it felt like literal flames poured out through her skin. It was probably pushing out all the remaining alcohol from last night. Her core pounded, and her panties were soaked through.
She would’ve begged. This time, she would’ve pleaded for that big gargoyle to throw her down and take her.
To own her. To dominate her in a way that only he could.
He would’ve finally broken her this time…
except that if she’d kept going, she would’ve thrown up all over him.
Then fainted. She was really regretting her choices from the night before.
“Hello, hello.” Jasper caught her as she headed out of the VIP area, looping his arm within hers. “You do not look great. Are you going to yack?”
“I am very seriously thinking about it. Blood flow was hampered a moment ago. It was all down around my Lady Land. I feel faint, and the butterflies are making my stomach dodgy.”
“Been there.” Jasper nodded in commiseration. “I have definitely been there.”
They stopped halfway to the bar. Jasper looked right. Down the way was the sign for the restrooms.
“I’m good.” She took her arm from his. “Any word from Indigo?”
The guys hadn’t been able to reach her earlier. She was probably off with Edgar somewhere, looking at flowers. His lips twisted, and he shook his head.
“Okay.” She steeled herself. She needed to stay in the headspace of the Captain. It helped prop her up. “It’s fine. I’ll stay a little longer, hope the hair of the dog helps, and then I’ll slip out the backdoor.”
Niamh and Phil sat in the same place they had yesterday, Nessa remembered that much. Once Niamh found a spot she liked, she didn’t usually deviate. Gerard would probably find his way over later when he was done playing host.
She stopped in front of an open stool beside Niamh, the only one vacant in the whole place.
“Is someone here?” She pointed at the empty space.
“No,” Phil said. “Niamh keeps scaring everyone away. It’s funny.”
“It’s so easy, like.” Niamh took a sip of her cider. “They’re all rattled from the skirmish today. I think they think I’m the phoenix. I’m leaning into it.”
Nessa plopped down. “Sorry if I was—“
“Not at all,” Niamh interrupted her.
Phil’s hair puffed up in a warning. “We don’t say sorry for having fun,” he growled. “We have it, we pay for the damage, and we move on.”
Said the creature who killed anyone that gave him offense.
“Okay.” She sagged against the bar. It was easier to just agree.
“Besides, you all provided great entertainment,” Phil went on.
“Not to mention you did a great job stirring the pot.” Niamh nodded.
“Sure, yis were probably responsible for that raid-style push-back up there today. Before that, they just seemed like they might cause a ruckus. This was a full-scale battle. In their opinion, anyway. This was much better. All the taunting you gave was spot on.”
“Much.” Phil nodded sagely. “It was worth the hassle of changing bars to spread the taunting.”
Memories flooded back to her. She’d called out insults, made random judgements, and talked loud and long about the convocation’s superiority. Niamh had often started it, and Nessa had run with it, dragging everyone else with her.
“Oh, god,” she murmured, putting her head on the bar.
“She drunk again?” The bartender stopped in front of her.
“No.” She picked up her head, her gaze momentarily swimming. “I haven’t had a drink yet. I’m debating if I really should.”
“Probably not,” the bartender replied. She didn’t remember, because she’d never ordered her own drinks, but it was probably the same guy from last night.
“If we want yer opinion, we’ll give it to ya,” Niamh told him. “Can’t ye see the girl needs the cure? Get her top shelf whiskey with an ice cube, a lemon zest, and a Coke back.”
Nessa groaned.
“Make it a couple ice cubes,” Niamh amended.
“Did I do anything I will regret when I hear about it?” Nessa asked.
“Probably,” Phil said as Niamh said, “Nah.”
Nessa groaned again, bracing her head on her forearms. “Do I want to know?”
“Definitely not,” Phil replied. “Listen, regret is only for the things you didn’t do. Last night, you did it all. There’s no point in regretting that.”
Nessa winced. “All of what?”
“All of nothing, that’s what.” Niamh took the drink from the bartender. “Here, start with the cola. Get a little sugar in ya.”
She sat up and did as instructed. It couldn’t hurt.
“Ye stole a few weapons, threatened a few women, and passed out on that gargoyle-monster.” Niamh passed over the whiskey once Nessa was done. “All in a day’s work. Anyone who says different is lying. Now, go back over to Tristan. Pretend like ya like him. It’s good for business.”
She didn’t know what that meant, and she greatly suspected Niamh was glossing over things, but she didn’t have the ability to care right now.
“Okay,” she said, shakily standing from the bar and making her way back.
Halfway there she would’ve normally flicked her hair over her shoulder and smiled at the group of guys looking her way.
It was the easiest way to make connections that she might need for information down the road.
Thankfully, there was no need for that here.
She didn’t have the ability for it, anyway.
As she neared their section, Gerard’s lead enforcer stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “You’re Nessa, correct?” he said, looking at her with heated eyes. “Did I remember that correctly?”
From two seconds ago when he must’ve heard Gerard use it?
She worked up a smile. “Yes, hello. And you are?”
“Sam, the lead enforcer for Khaavalor.”
He said it like that might matter to her.
“Great.” She started to edge around him. “You did great today.”
He stepped in her way. “Yes, thank you.” He put a warm hand on her upper arm. “At first we didn’t know—“
Tristan’s hand shot out, his body moving from behind her.
She hadn’t heard him approach! His fingers tightened as he gripped Sam’s throat.
With a show of strength that widened her eyes, he lifted the lead enforcer into the air with unspeakable menace and zero effort.
Sam’s face turned red, and his eyes tightened in fear as Tristan leaned in.
“If you touch her again,” Tristan said, his nightmare magic soaking the air around him, “I will rip that arm off. Do I make myself clear? She has a claim on her. It belongs to me.”
He waited for a second while the other gargoyle sputtered and tugged on Tristan’s arm. His feet kicked. He dipped his head in an urgent nod.
Tristan flung him away as though he were nothing. The lead enforcer hit the ground and slid past the section’s barriers. Nessa’s heart pounded in time with the pulse in her core. Holy hell, he was hot when he was possessive and incensed. She saw now why Jessie liked it when Austin got like that.
Tristan slipped his arm around Nessa’s shoulders. Electricity danced within the touch, and she leaned in gratefully.
Gerard watched the whole thing with interest, then resumed his conversation with Ulric. He wasn’t worried about Tristan manhandling his Guardian.
“Sit.” Tristan stopped at his chair.
“It’s fine, I can—“
His voice turned deep and rough and commanding. “Sit,” he said again.
Damn that heat racing through her. She turned and let him help her into the bar-height seat. He stood beside her, his arm over the back of her chair and his chest partially pointed at her. He leaned in slightly, like a shifter advertising a claim on his mate.
She sighed and relaxed her shoulder against his chest.
“You put on a good show,” he murmured, “but you look like you don’t feel well.”
“I feel much worse than that.”
He didn’t laugh at her jest. “Do you need me to go find Indigo?”
“They couldn’t reach her. It’s fine—“
“So help me god, Natasha, if you say it is fine one more time, I will spill red wine on your dress.”
She laughed silently as her heart swelled. “I feel like death warmed over, but I just had a Coke, I have what Niamh thinks is the cure, and the second Gerard’s back is turned, I am going to sneak out of here. I will be—“
He put up a finger, a warning in his glowing eyes.
She smiled at him. “I will be okay.”
“What does Niamh think—” He noticed her untouched drink. “Ah, right. The hair of the dog.”
He took the glass and pressed his full lips to the rim. She watched the brown liquid crawl toward his mouth, and then his Adam’s apple as it bobbed with his swallow. He nodded, probably to himself.
“Good quality. It might help.”
She couldn’t bring herself to want that kind of help.
He clearly saw that and kept the drink. He’d finish it.
“You look handsome,” she admitted, because he’d made her feel pretty earlier when he couldn’t help staring, and because he made her feel cherished now, watching over her and offering to go get help despite being the most important person in the room.
“You look equally handsome when you’re all battle stained and shirtless. ”
“I don’t smell as good then, though.”
She laughed, letting her head fall against him. His arm constricted, wrapping around her shoulders now. His thumb stroked her bare flesh.
“You are a vision,” he murmured. “You are equally a vision when you wake up in the morning, all sleepy and groggy, not sure if you’re in a good mood or angry that you’re awake, wearing a little grin and then a pout.”
A memory stirred from last night that she couldn’t quite grasp, hazy and blurred.
She tilted her head back to look him in the face.
His eyes dipped to hers, still glowing brightly, so open.
In that quiet, unguarded moment, something deep and raw moved within his gaze, answered by a warmth pulsating in her middle.
“Do you want me to close my eyes?” he murmured, his lips curled at the corners. “You don’t seem well enough to go running just now.”
“When have you seen me in the morning?”
His gaze traced her features as though he were memorizing every line. “Just the once, and I will remember it always.”