Page 16 of When the Witch Met the Minotaur

“Oh, that was Cyrus. He’s letting me room at the pub for half price until I get my feet under me.”

“I should take him for a drink sometime,” Rom says.

“How does this all go anyway?” I ask.

“Drinking. Music. Dancing. The usual plus the dousing of the lights. It will get wild in here tonight, just so you know. I haven’t attended Leafshire Cove’s version of this ritual, but at the ones I’ve attended in other areas of the Veiled Kingdoms, there is always a wild fervor that spreads through the crowd once all flames are doused.”

“Interesting.”

The idea of being near Tully during such a crazy evening has my cock throbbing already. I imagine pulling her into my lap and holding her against me so she’ll notice exactly what minotaurs have to offer. Shoving that daydream away, I take another drink.

Like a spell I cast just with my own horny mind, Tully slinks through the double doors. She has Laini on her arm, the two of them grinning like they’re definitely up to something. The corsetTully is wearing has my blood rushing in the wrong direction for the brains I need to keep up with her banter.

“Do they look mischievous or am I being paranoid?” I ask Romulus.

“Oh no, you’re spot on.” Humor colors his tone as he regards his mate, Laini. “Those two are thick as thieves.”

“Should we invite them over?”

“Aye.”

We both wave to them, and they weave through the crowded tavern to our table. Instead of frowning at me and avoiding me as I thought she would, the red-headed witch slips into a chair right beside me and smiles.

I make myself shudder. “That grin isn’t as welcoming as you think it is.”

Her eyes narrow to slits. “Watch that tongue, bull.”

I touch the side of my mouth with said tongue and give her a half-lidded look. Her gaze snaps to my lips and her breasts rise and fall more quickly. Like it or not, she’s attracted to me. I don’t know why I’m flirting. She is my rival, and I can’t have her meddling in my affairs. But she’s just so very tempting.

I down the last of my pint and raise my hand to order another from one of the many servers Grumlin has milling about the smoky room. I am not usually a drinker, but hey, it’s been an exciting few days, so I think I might have a little more than is wise tonight.

“How are you liking our town?” Laini asks me, her hand in Rom’s.

“It’s fantastic. Everyone, well mostly everyone, has been very welcoming.” I give Tully a meaningful look and she smiles with all of her teeth. Gods, she’s scary. And stunning. What I wouldn’t give to tie her up and torture her in the most pleasurable ways…

“They all just adore you, Argos,” Tully says. She grabs the server before he can pass by. “Get us four smokewaters, will you? Thanks.”

“What is a smokewater?” I ask. I smell trouble for sure now.

Tully crosses her arms on the table and her red-stained lips curve upward. “You’ll love it. They’re tradition for the winter festivities, isn’t that right, Laini?”

Laini’s face gives her away. This is no tradition. “Uh, yeah. Yes. Have to take a shot on the first evening of Grumlin’s celebrations.”

“At least one shot,” Rom says. He studies his pint, a grin tugging at his gray mouth.

I give them all a raised eyebrow, but I’m willing to play along. Perhaps a bit of hazing on the part of the inhabitants will help me in my business.

The server returns with a tray of tiny crockery cups. Smoke as dark as ink floats from each one.

“Looks delicious,” I say.

Laini snorts a laugh and grabs for one of the shots. Tully clears her throat and makes a big show of choosing her shot as if they are different somehow. Finally, she makes her selection and whips it down faster than my eyes can track. Rom and I take ours, and I shut my eyes against the scent of the stuff. It’s like pine tar. I get it down and am pleasantly surprised at the easy warmth the drink sends through me. The shot leaves the faint taste of lingonberries and sugar on my tongue.

“If you can get past the smell, it’s pretty good.”

Tully nods, her eyes too wide. She wiggles her fingers at the server and points to our table, ordering another round. I don’t think the shots are really that strong. I feel fine. We set into a warm loaf of bread, which we dip into a hot pot of melted white cheese. It’s fantastic fare.

“I didn’t see you at the market today,” I say to Tully over another shot.