Page 11 of Violet Moon (Pitch Mountain Pack #1)

“And what have you inferred?”

“I don’t want to say it because I’m probably wrong.”

Parisa picked up her glass, a smug expression on her face. “I won’t show any indication either way. I’m simply curious.”

Sera shifted in her seat. “Now I feel put on the spot.”

“Of everyone, you’d probably be the closest. You know me best”

“A thousand years old.”

Parisa blinked. “Is that a real guess?”

Sera shrugged.

“I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.”

Sera shrugged again but couldn’t hide the grin in the corner of her mouth.

Parisa sighed, rolling her eyes. “Tell me the juicy bits about those two instead.”

Grateful for the change in topic, Sera took another sip of wine before beginning, “It all began in Rome.”

Sera felt light on her feet as they fell in step together.

They didn’t have to discuss where they were going.

Both of them knew instinctively once they stepped out onto the sidewalk.

They wound their way through tourists gawking in shop windows and locals standing in lines outside restaurants and bars.

They approached a nondescript green door and knocked three times. The door whipped open, revealing a somewhat bored-looking university student.

“Do you have your cards?” Realization dawned on his face. “Oh! Sorry. It’s you two. Come on in.” He stepped aside so they could enter the top floor of the bar.

The top floor of Snake and Ivy, the bar they frequented, was street-level.

The bottom floor dug down into the lake it sat beside.

It was a popular spot for merpeople because they didn’t have to “leg it” just to come on shore for a drink or two.

Inside it was dim, even for a werewolf’s eyes.

The place was decorated like a flea market, a taxidermy shop, and an apothecary exploded onto the floor, ceiling, and walls. It was a fantastic mess. Sera loved it.

They walked up to the bar to order, scanning the list of seasonal drinks but it was a foregone conclusion that Parisa would get the same thing she always did and Sera would leave it up to the knowledgeable bartender who ran the place.

“What do you have for me tonight, Jaime?”

The woman behind the counter flashed a toothy grin. “It’s been a while. I’ve seen more of your younger ones than you two lately. That Jo is a hoot. Had to make a new drink and everything because they wanted something spicy? I don’t know. Weird but fun.”

“What’d you make for them?” Sera asked, leaning on the bar.

“I started with a drink that used cayenne pepper, but that wasn’t enough. So I ended up doing a quick infusion with habanero and a bit of warm booze to serve up something with some habanero vodka, mango, and a whole mess of ginger.”

“Sounds good?” Sera replied, unsure.

“I hated it.” Jaime laughed, her chest puffing out with every deep, rumbling chuckle from her body.

For a human, she was built very much like the ideal wolf.

“So I won’t be making that for you tonight, but I do have some local cherry liqueur that I want to try out on you in a new cocktail I’ve been thinking up tonight.

” She turned to Parisa. “And for you, Miss Alpha? The usual?”

“An Old Fashioned because that’s what I am,” Parisa responded.

“And you stick with it for decades, undeterred by anything else that swings past your view. I respect that.”

They chatted with Jaime as she made their drinks, then they claimed a spot on a worn sofa sandwiched in between a grandfather clock and a potted tree covered in fake crows.

Even with her wolf’s senses, the dim light and the constant conversation around them made her lean forward so she could see and hear Parisa better.

The closer she got, though, the more her heartbeat rang louder in her ears.

She watched Parisa’s lips and belatedly realized Parisa was asking her a question.

“Sorry,” she apologized, tearing her eyes away from Parisa’s face to stare at a taxidermied bird on the wall. “Lost in my own world for a second there.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“It’s nothing really. I’m just tired.” Her heart was still racing. Surely Parisa had noticed.

“These pre-full moon days take their toll on me, too, even after all these years. With all the growing strength, there’s aches and pains that I don’t remember having a decade ago.” Parisa laughed.

Parisa looked so soft when she laughed. Her dark brown hair cascaded down her face, framing her round cheeks and bright smile. Sera hadn’t seen that smile as often lately. She’d missed it. Warmth flooded her chest and she took a sip of her drink because suddenly words were hard to find.

“Have you moved on to another book from Edgar’s library?”

Sera nodded.

“What’s it about?”

“It’s science fiction, so not usually my thing, but it follows this human captain of a starship as he, well — it’s about exploration and the marks we leave on worlds whether we intend to or not.”

Parisa’s eyes lit up as she pointed across the table excitedly. “I read that one! How far are you? I don’t want to spoil anything.”

“When do you have time to read?”

“We both know I’m a terrible sleeper.”

“I’m nearly finished. Maybe about a third of the book left.”

Parisa set down her wine glass and clapped her hands together. “You’re deep into the relationship by now, then, right? They’ve gotten together, the uh, the what’s his name, the captain and the chief medical officer?”

Sera felt her face warming. “They’re not together yet, but there’s been some —” She trailed off.

“It wouldn't be an Edgar book without some spice.” She leaned in towards Sera. “Nice to have a little heat on these chilly nights, right, azizam ?”

Sera choked on air, unsure why she was running so warm. Surely the drink wasn’t that strong. “What’s that mean, anyway? Azizam ? You say it all the time around me but I haven’t heard you call anyone else that.”

Parisa chewed on her lip, hands knotted together in her lap. “It’s just a little nickname.”

“But what does it mean?”

“But that’s half the fun of using another language — no one else knows what you’re saying.”

“Pari, come on. Tell me, please?”

Parisa’s cheeks were turning a rosy hue, visible even in the dim lighting. She poked Sera in the arm. “It means you’re special to me.” She poked her again. “Happy now?”

Sera grinned. “The happiest.” Her own cheeks flushed with warmth.

They stared at one another, neither moving or saying a word. The silence stirred up butterflies in Sera’s stomach and she longed to break it.

“So have you heard anything else from Alpha Clyde recently about their current situation?” The levity drained from Parisa’s face. Sera’s heart sank.

“Nothing new,” Parisa replied, tone sharp and leaving no room for further discussion as she sat back, away from Sera. When she spoke again, though her friendly tone had returned, the lightness of her words didn’t quite reach her eyes. “What else is new in the gaudy vampire house across the street?”

She’d do anything to have some of the brightness return to Parisa’s features. “Have I told you much about the coven’s newest vampire?”

“You’ve mentioned him once or twice.”

“Eugene is a lot like our Jo. Bright and bubbly. Charming to a dangerous degree. But he talks constantly and buzzes around Hugh, allegedly, like an overeager bumblebee.”

Sera relaxed as Parisa did. The mysterious tension in the air, whatever that was, wasn’t thick enough to cut with a knife anymore.

“I get why. Of everyone there, Hugh’s the least — how can I put it — vampirey.” Parisa pantomimed throwing a scarf over her shoulder and showing off the many imaginary jewels on her fingers.

“Oh stop now. They’re not all like that.”

“Clemente is. And so is every vampire he collected before the turn of this century.”

Sera suppressed a giggle. “He likes tastemakers.”

“That’s one way of putting it. Either way, glad the new one is taking after Hugh. There’s a couple of other good eggs in that nest to be sure, but the more vampires we can get like your friend, the better. So what’s the issue? From the way you said ‘buzzing’ I’m getting a hint of a deeper story.”

Sera threw her hands up. “You know I can’t tell you everything because Hugh and I promise to keep some of our secrets, but suffice to say, Hugh hates all the attention and yet he’s reveling in it, too.

I can tell. I think he’s found something special about this new one.

” She let her expression say what she didn’t want to voice.

“He can read me like a book, sure, but it works both ways.”

“Is that how it works for us, too?”

“Hm?”

Parisa leaned in towards her. “Can you read me like a book, azizam ?”

She felt herself growing warm again and took a sip of her drink so she didn’t have to answer, but it went down the wrong way and she ended up sputtering into her glass, little droplets landing on her nose on cheeks.

Parisa suppressed a laugh and patted Sera on the back.

Sera righted herself, and they started talking again, but Parisa’s hand lingered at her back for far longer than any mild choking could account for.

Sera’s gaze kept drifting to the large, ornate mirror hung on the wall opposite them.

Her Alpha was finally relaxed again with a drink in her hand and a more comfortable, less forced smile on her face.

Parisa was talking and she knew she should be listening, but Sera kept staring in the mirror.

They fit together. Parisa’s legs were turned in towards hers, their knees bumping together whenever she shifted in her seat.

If she could sit here with Parisa, could belong next to Parisa, then surely both of them would be okay, no matter what was going on.

“So there we were, completely covered in batter. It all reeked, by the way. Baking soda seems innocuous until there’s way too much of it and dough saturated with it is smeared across your face.”