Page 42 of Gemini Hunted (Dark Witch Academy #5)

These three haven’t been together long, but they’re already pregnant (a fact not generally known at the Academy, but Mal shared it with me.) They’ve clearly settled into their menage.

I squash down a twinge of envy that Mal has both her guys safe beside her, while half of mine are missing and in danger.

Instead, I focus on how good it feels to see Mallory happy. She’s my friend and she deserves it. Even if her guys aren’t anything I’d have chosen for myself.

Once I’m queen—if I’m queen—I intend to encourage a lot more relationships like theirs.

What the witching world needs most, to reverse our slow slide to extinction, is more witches.

Of all genders.

Fucking.

“Well, Mars, don’t leave us in suspense.” V eyes the menage and their lovefest with poorly veiled impatience. “Precisely what—or whom— have you left alive and ambulatory behind us?”

Draco lifts his head from nuzzling the side of Mallory’s neck and rubs a rough hand over Jae’s beaded dreads to soothe him. His pale Nordic eyes drill into Vasili’s. “We got Uncle Sugar and the feds breathing down our necks. Matter of fact, Romanov—”

“For fuck’s sake. You were given one job.” V cuts him short with a slash of his slender hand. “So much for the formidable reputation of the Mars clan mafia. Evidently you’re all bark and no bite.”

I can tell V’s head is hurting, which makes him irritable (you know, more than usual).

But the real issue is he’s worried.

About me and all of us.

The sharp edge of his fear for my safety knifes through our mating bond.

Draco, who seemed like he was about to say something significant and who doesn’t have access to my snake’s secret worries, shuts down like a clam and scowls. “ Hel, I got a higher kill count than you, Romanov. But there’s always room for another notch on my knife.”

“Whoa.” Looking concerned—which is justifiable—Mal plants her fragile beanpole body between her guys and mine.

Her huge gray eyes plead silently for my help.

“Draco, we’re Zara’s allies, we’re even in her harem, uh, temporarily, you can’t go around killing her warlocks. And Vasili, you stop baiting him.”

I’m honestly impressed that Mal’s standing up to her bully. (I mean Vasili, not Draco.) Before my snake can do something truly awful, like close his telekinetic fist and crush her throat for sassing him, I leap into the fray.

“That’s right, guys. We’re all on the same side here, remember? And we gotta keep moving. You’re with me, Goblin King.” Without waiting for a verbal consent I know I won’t get, I loop my arm through V’s and tug him along with me. I swing my beam grimly toward the tunnel. “In we all go, I guess.”

Vasili pouts at me, an effect somewhat lessened by the gauze bandage wound rakishly over his forehead and his smudgy morning-after mascara. But he takes my flashlight with a sigh and bends his tall frame to peer skeptically into the tunnel.

With a final squeeze, Draco releases his two lovers and gives me a level look. “No guessing. You need to motor. You’re being hunted, Gemini.”

“So what else is new?” I touch the stiletto strapped to my thigh for reassurance, twist my hair into a high ponytail to keep it outta my eyes, and hum in my throat to summon a crackle of static.

“No one else technically has to come with—except Mordred with the Horn if you’re still game, demon—but I’m definitely going in. ”

“Yo. I’m down, baby queen.” Mordred banishes his trident with a blink (still a startling magic, but I’m getting used to it) and swanks up to the grisly catacomb entrance with a grin. “This’ll be dope, for real. Gimme that flashlight. Imma go first.”

“Needless to say, we’re all going,” Lucius says firmly (to no one’s surprise). “You can entrust the flashlight to me.”

Everyone’s already committed, but I need to know it’s their choice. Even though I’m not surprised, I’m still hella grateful.

To all of them.

I give my wolf an appreciative grin, then squeeze in beside my demon—I mean, the demon. I breathe in a hit of the mouthwatering saltwater taffy scent that rises from all his exposed skin, then reach to aim V’s beam purposefully down the tunnel. “I figured I’d go first. With my lightning.”

“Oh dear fuck. Here we go again,” Vasili murmurs.

Mordred exchanges a level look with V, which reminds me those two share a telepathic bond since that mating bite.

Then the demon winks at me. “You’re the ruling royal, for real, and your rival wants you dead. You gotta stop thinking like a cat burglar and start thinking like a queen. Let the rest of us protect you. You know, for a change.”

I gaze up (way up) into the kraken’s clever purple eyes.

Well, great.

Now I’m literally getting trust lessons from a summoned demon.

A demon so hot he steals my breath. Behind that forked blue beard and that tangle of wet blue curls and the dusky skin stretched over those strong bones and shining like copper in the spooky light, there’s someone a lot less confident, less cocky, less I don’t give a fuck than the swaggering sex demon he lets the rest of the world see.

But I saw him… the real him… the guy he hides away… when we kissed.

Under all that sexy, the kraken is lonely.

My inner dragon croons in sympathy. One of those bird trills I vocalize since I started shifting. In reply, a baritone purr rumbles from the kraken’s chest.

“For once, the sex demon isn’t thinking with his delectable dinky.

” Vasili gives the incubus a cool nod of approval that brings out Mordred’s dimples.

That demon loves to be praised, a useful fact I file carefully away for later.

“Let McSnicker lead, with Jae and Lucius. Their wolfish noses are what’s needed, along with that location spell. ”

Jae Labête snarls in agreement and moves to the front, where Mallory’s already standing with her broad-beam flashlight ready. Lucius tucks away his gradebook and moves alertly out in front.

V’s sharp stare shifts to me. “Little queen, you and Neo and Mordred—with the Horn—you’re in the middle. With me.”

“’Tis my place then to guard your back, my bride,” Zephyr says with satisfaction, moving right into place like he and V have shared sentry duty a million times. “Along with this one. Dracomir Guemundur Mars, is it not?”

I’m not even a little surprised that my Dark Fae King has sussed out Draco’s full name.

That’s how Unseelie witchcraft works. In Dark Fae culture (as I’m learning, since I’m now the Dark Fae Queen), just speaking someone’s full name out loud is a threat.

And the only reason I can fathom for Zephyr to threaten Draco is because, just a few minutes ago, Draco threatened V.

What is even happening between those two warlocks of mine?

The Goblin King and the Dark Fae King.

Are they now… allies?

“Marriage of convenience,” Vasili whispers in my ear, with a wicked swipe of tongue that makes me shiver. The Fae aren’t the only ones whose ears are erogenous. “With separate beds.”

While Mordred gently helps Neo tuck our drowsy kitten safely in her carrier and everyone else queues up for the catacombs, I give my dominant alpha a disappointed look.

“Separate beds? Where’s the fun in that?”

“He means I’ll need to seduce him like a skittish medieval virgin on her bridal night.” Zephyr’s cool silver voice slides along my other ear like a caress. His fist knots in my ponytail and tightens to drag my head back. “With your collaboration, my queen, ’tis a challenge I fully mean to master.”

Vasili wraps one arm around my waist and reaches past my tummy with the other to trail his languid black-nailed hand over Zephyr’s dragonscale codpiece.

Even through his armor, the light contact makes the Dark Fae groan.

“Good luck with that, Your Tumescence,” V whispers against my throat with a wicked chuckle.

Sandwiched between two of the deadliest guys in the tunnel, I breathe in Zephyr’s scent of burnt amber and sunbaked dragonhide, mingled with the musk and caramel of V’s Mogadon mating scent.

While my Dark Fae exposes my throat with that fist wrapped around my ponytail, my snake hums with pleasure and bends to drag his hot tongue down my jugular.

His wicked fangs graze my skin with the silent threat (or promise) of yet another mating bite.

Yowsa.

The potent hit of Vasili’s pheromones and mine, swirling through these close confines, almost takes the top of my head off.

Honestly speaking, this shit’s enough to make us all horny.

Too bad now isn’t the time or the place.

“Once we win this Dean’s Challenge?” I breathe in reply, all sexed-up and throaty. “Sign me the hell up for that.”