Chapter 11 Rosie
Rosie
If Heartwood Hollow is the quirky little suburb where paranormal creatures feel comfortable settling down, Diamond Ridge is the city with nightlife where they can comfortably go out and have a good time.
Obviously, not every bar, restaurant, or club is supernatural-friendly, but many are, including Ghastly, an exclusive club with rigorous standards and rules governing admission.
My heart races as we approach the front doors, remembering my plan. Find Cooper, bat my lashes, and get Jack through the doors without issue. I’ve repeated it at least a dozen times in my mind since we parked, but when I see the bulk of a man at the door, my plan goes right out the window.
“Hold my hand,” I say low, reaching mine out.
Jack stares at it, confused, like he can’t fathom the concept of hand-holding.
I groan internally, realizing at the last moment that this is going to be more difficult than intended.
Instead of yapping about secrets and getting-to-know-you’s on the way here, I should have just told him my plan, or, at least, the reality of taking him here.
I didn’t want to freak him out, but maybe that would have made things a bit easier.
“Designation?” a deep, gravelly voice asks, and I sigh, my fingers tightening in Jack’s hand in a way I hope gets my silent, shut the fuck up and let me handle this message across.
I was hopeful this wouldn’t happen, and really didn’t think I’d need to come up with a plan B, instead manifesting that plan A would work just fine. I’ve found that living in my delusion and best-case-scenario headspace usually serves me well, but today it’s betraying me.
I think Jack might just be bad luck.
The bouncer, a giant guy who I’m pretty sure is a gargoyle, approaches us.
I groan internally because if it were Cooper, the wolf shifter who literally always looks at Poppy with puppy dog eyes whenever we come, I could probably talk my way in without any fuss.
Especially if I mentioned that Poppy had been asking about him.
(She has not, for the record.) I turn fully to him, putting on my most darling smile and hoping to whatever god is listening that it works.
“Witch,” I say with a smile and continue walking. Maybe if I just pretend…
“Stop,” the bouncer says, and I tighten my jaw before turning to him.
“Hey,” I say, hesitating and looking at the name tag on his shirt.
“Dan. What’s up?” He looks me over for a moment, taking in the tight black dress with the long sleeves and low scoop neck with pleasure before shifting his gaze to Jack.
The look becomes much more assessing and much less heated in an instant.
“He’s not supernatural,” Dan says, and I groan inwardly.
On the outside, though, I play dumb. “Yeah, I know,” I say with a shrug, as if that’s the only issue at hand, as if I think he’s just letting me know so I can stay up to date.
“The heart wants what it wants, and all.” That’s not why he’s pointing it out, of course.
There are rules governing this place to protect both the members and the guests. I just hoped I could avoid them.
“Is he yours?” Dan asks.
“Yeah, he sure is!” I say with a bright smile before Jack can say anything else, since, knowing him, he would have blown our cover in a moment.
I shift closer to him, putting an arm around his waist while he stands there awkwardly, arms at his side.
Obviously, I should have given him a more detailed rundown of our mission ahead of time, but I figured he would be able to play the game if necessary.
Note to self: never assume Jack knows how to engage with people.
After a beat, Jack’s arm shifts to my shoulders, and for a split second, it’s like we’re in middle school and I’m his first girlfriend.
But then the arm moves, his hand gently caressing down my side and shifting me so he’s standing behind me, his front to my back.
The heat of him calms my nerves a bit, and the way his hand splays on my stomach over the fabric of my dress sends a wave of… something through me.
Well, I’ll be damned. Maybe he does know how to play the game.
I look over my shoulder and give him an appreciative smile, but he’s already looking down at me, that same stoic look on his face.
Shockingly enough, he looks… normal, like this is just how we are, like we do this often, him holding me.
I rest a hand over his other hand that’s on my hip and let my body relax.
We are so selling this. I turn back to Dan with a smile, genuine confidence in the look now, but that confidence vanishes quickly when I see that despite my hopes, we are not selling anything.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” Dan says, looking from Jack to me.
Jack’s body stays still, but his hand beneath mine tightens just a bit with a healthy dose of human panic.
He doesn’t know what or who this man is, but his human instincts undoubtedly are kicking in, telling him that Dan is trouble.
It’s a protective instinct that humans have developed over centuries, a survival tactic that dates back far beyond our existence to help us stay out of danger.
Danger I dragged him directly into without giving him any warning.
I totally fucked this up.
Still, I shrug like it’s no big deal and wave a hand at the big man.
“I had a stomach bug last week, and he’s recovering from a cold sore. We’ve been trying to keep things from spreading, you know?” Dan looks from me to Jack for what feels like the hundredth time before raising an eyebrow. My goodness, when did the security get so tight here?
“Then why are you here?” he asks, crossing his arms on his chest. “Are you both better now?”
“Oh, yeah, totally. No contagion anymore.” I take a step closer to the door, but his hand moves to my shoulder, holding me in place and stopping me from moving into the club. For a moment, I think I feel a jolt from Jack, his body tightening further.
“You need to bond him as yours.”
The goddamned kiss bond.
“Oh, that’s so antiquated,” I say with a giggle, waving a hand at him despite the fact that my heart is racing. I don’t know what idiot part of me thought I could avoid this, but here we are.
“It’s the rules. Unless he’s not yours,” the bouncer says, taking us in with a new light, “and he’s going in unaccompanied.”
Internally, I sigh. Externally, I gasp.
Unaccompanied would mean Jack is free game. He’d get a wristband marking him as willing to mix and mingle with any of the supernaturals in whatever way they see fit. And even though that would make things simpler, I can’t put Jack at risk like that, especially not without warning him properly.
Which leaves one option.
In order to bring Jack in, I’m going to have to give him the kiss bond, something I’ve never actually done and something Jack is fully unprepared for.
“How dare you question that! Of course, he’s mine.
” I let out a sigh that I hope sounds disgruntled instead of panicked.
“Fine, I guess I’ll bond him. No big deal.
” I turn to Jack, who is looking somehow more confused than before, something I never would have thought possible.
“Just have to… bond him.” I stare up at Jack’s wide eyes, my stomach in knots as I try to get up the courage to do what I have to do.
It’s not that Jack isn’t attractive. Of course he is.
It’s just that he’s… well… Jack. And so uninterested in me, if my ego wasn’t as big as it is, I might be offended.
And worst of all, he is so unprepared for what’s about to happen.
God, I should have warned him. I’m a shit person for throwing this at him with no precursor.
“People are waiting,” the gargoyle says.
“And they can wait a minute longer for me to bond my partner,” I snap, feeling the electricity of my irritation zap to my fingers.
He must see or sense it as well because he raises his hands up in surrender before I turn back to Jack.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, stepping further into his space.
I’m not wearing my locket, the amulet that normally would stop the bond from taking hold, as the club doesn’t allow any kind of unauthorized magical suppressant within its walls.
“What?” Jack asks, just as quietly, but there’s no other chance for explanation as I lean in, pressing my lips to his.
Instantly, it happens just like I’ve read about before, just like Violet told Poppy and me when we got drunk together last year.
The golden swirls of bonding magic leave me, interestingly less pink than my normal magic, wrapping around us with tiny threads and pulling us closer together.
My magic is marking him as mine, at least for the next week until it wears off.
I feel those threads dig into my heart at the same time his hand moves up, cupping my jaw and angling my face, deepening the kiss.
His arm moves to my waist, tugging me closer.
I know it’s part of the magic, the kiss bond.
A temporary mark that he is mine, under my watchful eye, and a note for all other supernaturals to leave him be.
It affects humans by creating feelings of desire and a need for an attachment they can’t control, all the more reason why I wanted to avoid it.
The kiss lasts longer than it has to for the simple bond to take place, and I find myself melting into it with a sigh as his thumb grazes over my cheekbone almost reverently.
Finally, the kiss breaks, and I take in a fake gulp of fresh air, forcing my head to stay clear, to remember we’re pretending that this isn’t the first time this has happened, that this isn’t the first time we’ve kissed, that this is a normal feeling between us.
That Jack is mine.