Page 15 of Monster’s Consort (Blackthorn Academy for Supernaturals #18)

I called my fire, incensed by their aggravating show of help. But I also knew we were on a time crunch, and if I wanted us to get back on time, and if I wanted to see Violet , who was to meet us here practically any moment, I needed to just get this over with.

“Fine,” I said.

Desmond stood beside me. “When you lift it, don’t focus on your magic. Focus on the feel of the barrel. The warm bow of the wood. It’s heavy on the ground, but in your grasp—” Desmond’s voice took on an almost hypnotic tone. “In your grasp there is nothing too heavy, is there, Bane?” he asked.

I nodded, focusing on the details.

“Everything is made of water,” Norman murmured. “Even you. So you... and the barrel... you’re not enemies. You both are made of water, so speak to it.”

I rolled my eyes, but his suckers sucked on my neck and I hissed.

“Just try it,” Norman said. “Humor me, okay?”

I closed my eyes and tried to think of the water. Tried to find the common group between me and a barrel of whiskey. With Desmond’s voice in my ear and Norman’s smooth tentacles along my arm, things felt strange, but not in a bad way.

I focused on the lightness. Nothing in my grasp was too heavy.

When I opened my eyes, I saw my flames engulfing the barrel and the heat warmed my face as I grinned. It shrunk in an instant, dropping to the ground like a hot kamikaze crumb.

“Nice!” Norman said, picking it up, but dropping it again with an “Ow!” that echoed in the room.

“See, piece of cake,” Desmond said as he lifted his hand again.

“Twenty-eight barrels of whiskey on the wall...” Norm sang, laughing as he pointed his own hand at a barrel, lifting it with ease. Water danced around it, glowing shades of teal and blue and he grinned with delight as he shrunk it.

“Take one down and pass it around,” Desmond said, plucking it off the ground and tossing it in the air before popping it into his shirt pocket.

“Twenty-seven barrels of whiskey left to transfig,” I said, focusing my fire once more.

After we’d managed to transfigure all thirty barrels of moon-blessed whiskey, I was feeling good. Almost as if somehow I’d leeched the alcohol straight from the barrel.

“That was so cool!” Norm said as we barreled out of the cellar.

“That definitely deserves a drink,” I said.

Desmond smiled. “Perhaps this round can be yours, then.”

I felt too good to argue.

“Perhaps. I do owe you an apology,” I said as we rounded the bar. No sign of the girls yet, but I figured with it nearing late afternoon, if we wanted to be back in time for dinner, surely, they’d arrive soon.

Violet was, if anything, punctual. I knew she’d steer them all back in due time from wherever it was they were. The town was not that big to begin with.

I ordered us three pints and took a seat at the bar itself, between Norman and Desmond.

The prince looked around, taking in the sight.

“What?”

“I have never been to a bar before,” he murmured. “Are they all like this?”

Norman chuckled. “If by this, you mean, packed, loud and fun as hell, then yes.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, they are not all like this. Some are much quieter.”

“I like the noise,” Desmond said as someone took to the stage. The sounds of screeching and off-key singing filled the air and Norman covered his ears with his tentacles.

“Oh goddess, make it stop,” he murmured.

I laughed. “Not a siren, apparently.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Norm looked up at me with a frown.

“I’m sorry, I?—”

“No, it’s fine, Bane. I?—”

The bartender dropped off our pints and I sipped the foam. Quickly.

“You and Wanda... are you...” Desmond spoke carefully. “You are not with her, are you?”

Norman shook his head. “No. Not anymore.” He took a long sip of his pint.

“Who did she leave you for?” I asked before I could think twice.

Norman did not look at us. He only watched the woman on the stage who was now finishing her awful rendition of Sweet Caroline.

“That’s the thing,” he said. “I could have dealt with it if there was someone else. I mean, we swam with plenty of people, but...” His eyebrows furrowed as he traced his fingers along the wood grain of the banister. “I asked if there was someone else and she told me no.”

“You think she was lying?” Desmond asked, his voice concerned.

“Wanda’s not a liar,” I said. “She’s a lot of things, don’t get me wrong, but—” I pressed the rim of my drink to my lips. “She doesn’t lie about anything, especially sex.”

“You know this because?—”

“She fucked me once, too,” I said, instantly regretting the words. Fuck. Usually alcohol didn’t hit me this hard, this fast...

“Ah,” Desmond said, his tone bristling as he fidgeted in his seat.

“You didn’t—” Norm pressed, his eyes glazing. “You’re not?—”

Desmond’s eyes widened. “What?” He practically choked on his pint.

I hit him on the back, probably harder than I should have.

“Oh gods no, why would you think?—”

“I mean, you two obviously know each other, and she’s never mentioned knowing a prince , so?—”

The jealousy in Norm’s voice was evident.

“Oh no. No, no, I’m afraid you have that all wrong—” Desmond shook his head. He sucked down a hefty gulp of his drink.

“How do you know her?” I asked. “And don’t lie to us.”

Desmond looked scared. On edge.

“Dezzy... come on,” Norman said. “I thought we were friends here... what aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s not what you think,” he said, gripping his glass.

“Then tell us so we know what to think,” I said.

“I...” He sucked in a breath. “It’s complicated.”

“Try me,” I said, noticing the terror in his eyes. I don’t know what I expected him to say, but what came out his mouth was not it.

“I’m a virgin,” he blurted out, cheeks turning scarlet.

“What?” Norman’s holler rattled the chandeliers and the entire bar turned to look at us.

I channeled my lust, spreading as much out as I could to soothe and relax the air around us so people would not start an argument.

Desmond coughed. “I?—”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Norm asked.

Desmond caught my gaze and the truth of his words fell on me like ice.

Desmond O’Neil was not just a Dark Fae heir. He was a virginal incubus.

Which meant he hadn’t gone into heat. Surely by twenty he should have experienced a heat, but...

“You never had a heat,” I gasped.

He shook his head. “I sought Wanda’s help,” he said, his voice shaking. “But not in the physical sense, in the?—”

“You tried to ignite your heat,” I said, understanding dawning on me.

“Yes.”

“And it didn’t work?” Norm asked, dumbfounded.

“Well... no. Nothing has worked. That’s why they are sending me to Blackthorn,” he said, hanging his head.

“They are sending you to the academy to get laid?” Norman asked, his voice elevated once more, but not enough to draw more than the attention of those in our general proximity.

“No! I mean, I’m going there to learn, to advance my magic and follow in the footsteps of those before me, but also... the exposure could be good for me.”

“Bigger pool of fish,” I said, shaking my head.

“You can not breathe a word of this,” he said hurriedly.

“Oh, don’t worry, Dezzy, I won’t,” I said with a grin.

“I’m just relieved you haven’t slept with her,” Norman said, shaking his head. “‘Cause if you had, I really don’t stand a chance.”

And as if fate herself could read our minds, that was the moment I looked up to see Violet, Wanda, and Delaney enter the doorway.

“They’re here,” I said.

“Shit,” Norman cursed as Desmond drained his pint.