Chapter 334
Chapter 334
I tap my foot, glancing at every little thing that catches my eye while I wait outside the pet shop for Drix to return with Jericho. Jericho had come separately to finalise his deal with his ex and called to say it had gone well. When he failed to find us, Drix decided he must have got distracted and went to track him down. Meanwhile, Gillian spotted a kitten through the shop window and insisted on going in to get it.
Scarlette stands across the road, buying cookies from three little Girl Scouts with an ice cream truck parked nearby, waiting for her to finish. She is still grumpy about last night, while Drix is thoroughly pleased with himself. I had been embarrassed at first, but her endless bickering with him and his relentless teasing soon cured me of that.
“I’ve got it!” Gillian shrieks, making me yelp. I spin round ready to glare at him, but the sight stops me. He holds the kitten high above his head, grinning from ear to ear. It is an orange and white cat with smooth fur and a fluffy tail. Utterly cute. “Say hello to the new member of my family!”
“Do you think that is a good idea in a town full of people like us?” I ask, turning my gaze back towards Scarlette. She is buying ice cream now.
“She is just a kitten. She does not know anything yet, so she will learn to love us as she grows up. She is adorable, is she not? I am calling her Gemma.”
I chuckle. “You have a death wish.”
“Heh heh, that is the plan. It suits her. The only problem is how I am going to get her out of the country.” I glance at him and shrug. “It will take time and we do not have that luxury.”
“You could smuggle her onto Drix’s private jet,” Scarlette says as she pays for a basket of ice cream, waves at the girls, and crosses the street.
“I am not sure he will agree. Drix does not like cats. Except you.”
“I am not a cat.”
“That is not what he thinks.” he resorts.
I press my lips into a thin line because I cannot argue with that. Hendrix has always seen me as a cat and never misses a chance to say it to my face. My wolf should feel insulted, but it is already clear she is far from normal.
“Ice cream is the antidote for all stress,” Scarlette declares cheerfully, licking a bright red cone. “Especially when the seller is nonhuman. This is blood-berry flavoured,” she whispers with a giggle, then holds the basket out to Gillian and me. “Want some?” It is filled with cups of the same flavour.
I cringe. “I will pass.”
“Gross.”
“Your loss.” Scarlette glances at Gillian. “Gil, do not tell me you are going to hold her like that all day? Where is her carrier?” His eyes widen and he gasps before dashing back inside the shop. Scarlette looks down the street and frowns. “They are not back yet? This is annoying. Not as annoying as listening to the two of you fuck, but still annoying.”
“You are still holding a grudge?” I laugh.
“Just extremely jealous,” she admits shamelessly. I smile and shake my head, turning my attention back to the street. People stroll to and fro, going about their day. I sense other supernatural creatures among them—werewolves and various shifters. I feel their eyes on me as they pass, and some tilt their heads to bare their necks when our gazes meet. They know I am an alpha.
Scarlette remains completely uninterested in her surroundings, utterly focused on her snack. The silence between us feels comfortable, and it is a relief to be ignored by the humans for once. They glance our way but do not linger as they usually would. Kira’s spell is doing its work.
A familiar tingle sparks in my head before Drix’s voice fills it. “I found the idiot. Gather the others and meet me in front of the bookshop we passed earlier.”
“What was he doing?”
“Flirting.”
“I see.” I tap Scarlette on the shoulder and signal her. “Gil, we are leaving. Hurry up.” I turn and start walking. Scarlette follows, still licking her ice cream. The bookshop is only a few minutes away. Hendrix stands out front with Jericho.
I stop short when I see them. No amount of magic could dull that level of gorgeousness. Even by human standards, they look like gods. Drix stands with his arms folded, biceps straining against his sleeves and drawing every eye. His expression is stern, but his face is flawless. Jericho rests one hand on his hip, complaining animatedly to Drix and rolling his dark leaf-green eyes every few seconds. The golden spiral rings in his eyebrow, nose, and lip piercing catch the sunlight and flash with every movement.
I learned recently that his tattoos are not permanent, so he changes the designs whenever he likes. He has removed the lips from his cheek and added a golden butterfly to match his new golden hair dye. His head looks as though it has been dipped in liquid gold and then glitter. Even with that ridiculous hairstyle, he still draws women like a magnet. He wears a basketball vest in clashing shades of red, black, orange and yellow, white cargo shorts, and sporty skate shoes. Tattoos cover half his body in an intricate tapestry that runs all the way down one leg.
Their appearances, expressions, and body language reveal their clashing personalities so clearly. It is almost fascinating. If I did not know them, I might assume they were the best of friends. In truth, their relationship is more like lions and flies. Some might even mistake them for lovers or brothers.