Chapter 52 Hector
HECTOR
ONE YEAR LATER
Ihadn’t been back to Club Energy in what felt like a lifetime. Perhaps, because I’d been through more than a normal person would ever face in the span of their existence. I got to the bar, plopped myself on a stool and signalled the bartender to come over.
“What can I get you?” His eyes lifted and met mine, the colour practically draining out of his face. “Omg, you’re that witch, right? Hector Briar… I can’t believe it.”
I waved my hand, signalling for him to keep his voice down. “Perhaps we keep to our inside voices, so we don’t get the entire club too excited.”
“Yes,” he stammered, hardly blinking. “Yes, of course. I can do that.” He was still shouting, so I winced. “Sorry, I can do that,” the barman whispered this time, a little too quietly beneath the thumping bass of music. “I just can’t believe you’ve come to our little old bar.”
“It’s Alex, right?” I said, leaning over the sticky counter.
His eyes widened a fraction. “How do you know my name?”
I liked doing this, testing our spell. By our, I meant witch-kind as a whole.
Of course I’d recognised the barman the moment I’d walked in.
Whereas I’d been through two Witch Trials, killed my kin, destroyed a demon-goat-man-in-a-suit, found the love of my life, killed his father, died and came back to life again, and worked with my coven to save witch-kind from hate and scrutiny…
Alex was still pouring drinks in Energy.
I admired a man with dedication.
“It’s on your name tag,” I said, pointing down to his unbuttoned shirt. It was, in fact, on his button, but the truth was I’d slept with Alex many moons ago, forgot his name and thought I’d dubbed him not-Jon for a while.
“My bad,” Alex said, flustered from the brief moment of panic. “What can I get you, Hector Briar?”
Mortals had a funny way of using my full name whenever they saw me in public. It was an automatic thing they did, like they were trying to be respectful or something. “Vodka and cranberry, light ice. Please.”
“On it,” Alex said, rushing off to make the drink.
I turned the seat around and faced the swaying or gyrating bodies on the dance floor.
Kai and Romy were there, practically grinding against one another as fake smoke swirled around their feet, and laser light flashed overhead.
I didn’t blame them either. The second my dance partner turned up, I’d be grinding on him publicly too.
My gaze drifted to the door, wondering if Arwyn had arrived yet. He’d promised to get on an earlier train from London after his long week of appointments in Parliament. I’d not seen him since last weekend, and my loins were suffering for it.
Blue balls so bad it deserved a place in the Guinness book of records.
“Here you go,” Alex announced. “This is on the house. You know… for all your hard work.”
I mock saluted, not wanting to argue with a free drink. “Ta, mate. Appreciate it.”
I pushed off the bar to go, but Alex stopped me. “So, like what brings someone of your calibre to Club Energy?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the question.
My reasons for coming here hadn’t changed since the last time.
A good stiff drink, and sex. Specifically cock.
I had both on the agenda tonight. But instead of being vulgar, since my media training had drummed it out of me, I replied with a PG answer. “Great music. Like really great music.”
Apparently, it was sufficient answer, because Alex finally let me go.
I waded through the dance floor, sucking my drink through the straw. In such a dark place, where the senses were overwhelmed with music, lights and smoke, it was easy to blend in. Besides Alex, and the bouncer, no one had noticed the three of us amongst the crowd of swaying bodies.
I’d spent the last three hundred and sixty-five days on a media tour, speaking directly to mortal people through the lens of pop culture.
I’d just released my first book, a self-titled memoire called I Killed a Demon and Liked It which had sat at the top of the New York Times best-sellers list since it came out. Go me.
Romy and Kai were two halves of one whole.
Kai ran as Grand High, voted in rather than given the position.
Romy also was Grand High, dealing mostly with the human affairs, helping integrate witch-kind into society.
It was important structure, because we did use magic to clean the mortal minds of witches, but soon after we reintroduced ourselves in our own way.
And Arwyn. My darling Arwyn was currently sitting in Parliament as head secretary of witch-kind.
He’d been in London for the past six days, and Hekate my groin had suffered for it.
Tonight he’d promised to get on the fastest train to Oxford, our home, and meet me here.
I kept checking the time on my phone, even stalking the train arrivals.
I could’ve scried for him in my drink, but I liked the excitement of the ‘not knowing’.
I was almost out of the dance floor, heading towards one of the booths at the back of the club, when strong hands fixed on either side of my hips.
Back in the day, such an action would’ve prompted a high-anxiety response.
But I knew those hands, how far the long fingers splayed and tickled my hip bone.
“Hello, little kitty.” Arwyn’s luxurious voice came from behind me, his lips so close to my ear. “I must say you look incredibly delicious watching you walk from the back.”
I gave in to the shivers that overwhelmed me, pushing my hips back until my arse met his hard body. “You made it then.”
“I promised I would.” He laid a kiss on my cheek, his stubble-coated jaw itching across my skin. “I’m surprised you didn’t sense me. I’ve been watching you since you walked in… waiting to see if you noticed.”
With a brisk swish, he turned me to face him. I hardly cared for my drink as it was squished between us. All that I wanted was his mouth on mine, a desperate six days’ worth of intimacy controlling my body. “What can I say,” I said. “I’ve been distracted.”
“With what?” His lips turned up into a sly grin.
“You’ll see,” I replied, winking up at him.
Our mouths met as the song changed to a slower one.
I wondered if I looked up I would’ve seen Romy and Kai giggling knowingly to themselves.
The sultry beat of the song blended perfectly with the rhythm of our kiss.
It was slow and tender, lips moving and heads turning, tongues teasing one another.
Arwyn moved his hands from my hips to my face, clamping a hold so I couldn’t pull away.
Not that I would.
“I’ve missed you,” he said after withdrawing. Arwyn laid his forehead down upon mine, bright eyes blinking away his trance. “So much. This week has been torture.”
“We’ve survived worse,” I replied, gripping his suit jacket with my spare hand. “But I’ve missed you too. Another day and I would’ve got the first train to London and dragged you out of Parliament myself.”
“Mmhm,” Arwyn groaned, eyes glittering with excitement. “Why does the idea of that make me hard?”
My eyes widened, groin jolting. “It does?”
He nodded. I palmed my hand down his body, resting it on his pleated suit trousers. Arwyn Hopkin was, in fact, very hard. And I mean very with all the emphasis the word needed.
My mouth watered instantly. I brought the straw of my drink up to my mouth, stuck my tongue out and ran it around the tip, all without severing our intense staring contest.
“Careful,” Arwyn exhaled.
“Nope,” I said, finally taking the straw into my mouth and sucking.
“Wicked, wicked witch.” Arwyn lifted his head, looked out across the room and followed up with. “Toilets?”
I smiled, outwardly and inward. All of me was grinning because I knew exactly what he was implying. “This way,” I said, slipping out of his shadow and walking away with my head held high.
I didn’t need to look back to know Arwyn was following. But I did anyway, because that man dressed in a suit was one fucking incredible sight to behold. It could destroy me, fix me and destroy me all over again.
Fucking hell, he was hot. And if anyone else looked at the man with the overwhelming presence and air of confidence, they would one hundred percent see the hardened bulge in his tailored trousers.
I picked up my speed, needing him biblically.
The sooner we got somewhere private, the better.
I mean, how private were the toilets in a club, really?
It was the best option. There was no way I could wait until we got home, and I knew Arwyn felt the same.
In fact, he’d sent me some rather risky text messages today, from his seat in Parliament, so I knew exactly how the next hour was going to go.
Spoiler: it would go in my favour.
Before I entered the dingy toilets, I handed my drink to a stranger who’d just walked out of it.
I needed both hands free for what was to follow.
The door closed behind me, then opened again.
As Arwyn followed, the air was sucked out of the toilets.
At least, for our sake, it smelled relatively clean.
There was a man standing by the sinks offering condoms, or a spritz of aftershave. I hadn’t even thought about him.
Part of Arwyn’s job was regulating magic against humans. There were rules, and we all had to follow them to show we were not a threat. But, as Arwyn liked to call me, I was a wicked, wicked witch. Rules had never been my strong point.
I gathered up old magic, letting it coat my mouth like sugar.
“Urgent news befall your ears,
Leave this place for it conjures your fears,
Urgent news befall your ears,
Leave this place for it conjures your fears.”
By the time my spell finished, the man was already running out of the toilets. I hoped whatever illusion I’d just played in his mind wasn’t too bad. I slipped a fifty-pound note into his tip bowl in my own form of thanks.
“That was naughty, Hector. And you know it.”