Chapter Eleven
When they entered The Winking Wyvern, the owner was coming from the store room with a box of beer in his arms. His sharp gaze scanned the room, doing a double-take after landing on Vorren.
A mixed bag of emotions crossed his face: shock, delight, pain, resignation.
Finally, he settled on cautious, as he set the carton on the beer cooler with a light rattle of bottles.
Payton eased closer to overhear as the two approached each other.
“Well, look who crawled out of the volcano,” Cory drawled. “You’ve aged terribly.”
“Yes, well, you smell like cheap alcohol and poor decisions, Corvack.”
“The ladies seem to love it.”
They broke into grins, and Cory held out a hand, pulling Vorren in for a quick hug. Once they’d effectively pounded the crap out of each other’s backs, the way only men can, they released each other.
“What are you doing in Witchmere? Last I heard, you were at the palace, deciding whether to abdicate your throne in favor of drowning in grief.”
Payton cast Dailey and Rowan a wide-eyed glance.
“Throne?” Rowan mouthed.
Other than a shrug, Payton had nothing to give.
“We both know a dragon without his mate is useless, Corvack.”
“My sister would hate to see you this way,” Cory said with a flash of sorrow. “She’d want you to live your life to the fullest, old friend.”
“Yes, well, my brother, Thorryn, will make a better king when the time comes. He has the temperament, and I no longer have a wife to rule by my side.”
The brothers-in-law eyed each other for a long moment as if sharing a silent communication.
“Come, have a drink. They have something in this realm known as Fireball. You’ll love it,” Cory assured him.
He lined up shots on the bar, accounting for their whole group. “Cobb? You in or are you on duty?”
“I’m in.”
Payton whirled to gape at him.
But Rowan wasn’t letting him off easily. “Really, Officer Knob? What will your mother say?”
“I don’t give a fuck what she says,” he growled, and without breaking eye contact with Payton, said, “Make mine a double, but I’ll have a whiskey, neat.”
A thrill raced through her. What the hell did it mean? Was he feeling reckless because he was sick of Mary-Alice’s shit, or were the boots influencing him in some small way?
“No shot for me,” Payton finally managed. “I’ll have a margarita, on the rocks, salted rim.”
“I’ll have what she’s having, but I’m not passing up a free shot,” Rowan declared, sidling up to Vorren. “So, tall, dark, and dangerous, how do you drown your sorrows these days? I’m single in case you care to mingle.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Dailey said for Payton’s ears alone. “Remind me why she’s your friend again?”
“I can hear you, Officer Knob,” Rowan snapped. “And she’s my friend because I’m lovable and charming. Something you wouldn’t know anything about.”
Payton put a hand on his arm. “I’ve got this.” In a blindingly fast move, she tapped Rowan on the back of the head. “Knock it off. He’s been under a spell.”
“Still is,” Vorren stated matter-of-factly, toasting Cory with his second shot. “You were correct. This drink should be served with every meal. You would make millions of pyra at Drakoryth’s annual Emberborn Gathering.”
“It’s Fireball, and I deal in dollars here.” Cory poured two more shots and left the bottle. “Two margaritas and whiskey coming right up.”
Payton leaned against the bar, inching sideways to make room for Dailey to join her.
“Where did Hermes go?” she asked as she craned her neck to see the room’s occupants.
“Hermes? The black-haired devil always stirring up trouble in here? Never saw him,” Cory replied, as he built her drink. “But then, he’s been banned for over a month.”
“What did he do?” Rowan asked.
“Wait, didn’t he enter before us?” Dailey asked.
Cory halted mid-salting of the glasses to scan the place. Anger caused his topaz eyes to burn, and a tattoo on his neck glowed to match his irises.
“Holy shit, I think he spotted him.” Rowan spun on her stool, following his gaze. “You’d never know that blond was him until he looked up. Those peepers are a dead giveaway.”
In one fluid move, Cory cleared the bar, charging toward his nemesis.
Hermes, sensing his future existence was questionable, shimmered away, leaving a seat of stardust in his place.
“He fucking knows I hate that glittery shit!” Cory growled.
Vorren’s laugh rumbled out, causing the glasses overhead to clink whenever they touched. “Some Gods never change, yes?”
“He’s a menace,” Dailey agreed.
“So he hung around here after the incident last Christmas with my sister?” Payton asked, accepting her cocktail from the backup bartender. “Thanks,” she said with a moan after sipping it. “This is the best I’ve ever had.”
He leaned in, elbows on the bar, blue eyes clearly interested. “Oh, you haven’t had the best yet, lady. Not until you’ve had me.”
Dailey froze.
Rowan snorted.
And Vorren, Goddess love him, shoved the bartender over with an open palm. “She has a mate, fool.”
“I do?” Payton asked.
“She does?” Rowan perked up.
“Who?” Dailey ground out with a scowl.
“Yes, yes, and you, Law Dog,” Vorren replied, popping the pour spout from the Fireball and drinking it straight.
“Christ, not you too with that Law-Dog shit.” Snatching the bottle from his hand, Dailey swigged it.
“Is that not your name?”
“No! Hermes rotates nicknames in his never-ending attempt to get under my skin.”
“Ah, it seems he has succeeded.” Vorren nodded sagely, but there was a distinct sparkle in his gaze as he swiped the Fireball back. “You are very thin of skin, as they say.”
“Thin-skinned, and no, I’m not.”
“This is what I said. Thin of skin.” So saying, Dragon Daddy downed the remaining two-thirds of the alcohol, sighed with satisfaction, and pinned Payton with a stare. “You are not attractive to me. I shall help you.”
Dailey stood straighter, his body practically vibrating with outrage. “Not attractive?”
“Careful, Law Dog, you do not want more projectiles from your sky,” Vorren warned. “My comment was not meant to be offensive to your mate. But I do not wish to fuck her. Or any of your people here. The women from my realm are more to my liking.” He grinned as if it took the sting away.
“Why do I need you as a bodyguard?” Payton asked as she wove her fingers through Dailey’s and squeezed.
“Look around you. Do you not smell the interest?”
“Smell the...?” Dropping Dailey’s hand, she slowly spun to take in the room. Everyone was focused on her. Heat burned in their gazes as they swept over her body, and a few of the bolder men licked their lips. “Ohmygod, what the fuck?”
“They know you are ripe for breeding,” Vorren replied with a shrug. Leaning over the bar, he grunted. “Corvack, your server is lazy. He is sleeping on the floor.”
“Maybe because you cracked his head on the cabinet, you feral hatchling!” Cory snapped as he dumped a dustpan of glitter in the garbage.
Payton’s mind was reeling. Ripe for breeding? What the hell was Dragon Daddy talking about? Sure, she hadn’t had sex since Dailey, but that didn’t mean she wanted to spawn little baby Titans anytime soon—if at all!
Worse, was Dailey only being nice to her because somehow the Trickster’s chaos-causing boots had enchanted him?
Her heart literally ached in her chest because suddenly, she was positive it was the case.
Last night, before she’d slipped them on, he was all business.
This morning, he’d drifted closer to his charming self.
Not ten minutes ago, she believed they’d broken Elara’s spell, but now, Payton was convinced whatever power she possessed amplified the boots’ magic, likely overriding their previous faux pax from the alley incident.
“It’s okay, Wildfire,” he said, cradling her face with his warm palms. “I’ll take you to my cabin and—”
“No!”
He dropped his arms, his expression becoming guarded. “You can’t go out unprotected, Payton.”
“Vorren can protect me. He said himself that he doesn’t find me attractive.”
“There is no way in hell you’re going off with a strange man twice your size with the strength of a mountain. I forb—”
“Watch it,” she warned. “I’m not yours to command, Dailey Cobb.”
“Be smart about this. He’s a stranger you met all of fifteen minutes ago.”
“I can go with her,” Rowan offered, wrapping an arm around Payton’s shoulders. “She—” Leaning closer, she sniffed. “Wow! What shampoo are you using these days? You smell divine.”
Payton closed her eyes in resignation.
“No, really, Pay, I never realized how pretty you are. I mean, we both know men suck, so we should—eek!”
Vorren picked up Rowan in a fireman’s hold. “Corvack, the little wolf needs to be contained. Do you have a storeroom?”
“If you don’t put me down, I swear to the Goddess I’m going to rip your fucking throat out with my teeth,” she growled. “I won’t need to shift to do it.”
He huffed out a laugh.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“You are. To think, a creature as puny as you believing you can harm me.”
Even Cory grinned, triggering Payton’s curiosity.
“Is your skin tougher than rope?” she asked. “Because I’ve seen her gnaw through a three-inch strand.”
“It’s impenetrable,” Cory explained. When she narrowed her eyes in disbelief, he lifted a knife and sliced it across his palm. Or attempted to. The blade broke off the handle and clanked to the floor. His flesh remained intact.
“Uh, guys.” They all looked to where Dailey pointed.
The patrons were inching closer, hyper-focused on Payton, amorous intent in their eyes.
“Ohmygod!”
“Fuck it.” Dailey wrapped an arm around her, and in a blink, they were in a living room she’d never seen.