As we settled in her car—me in the passenger seat—I put on my seat belt with a pout. Coral gave me a confused look when I crossed my arms over my chest and stared forward. I was being ridiculous, but I couldn’t help feeling annoyed.
“What’s wrong?” Coral asked carefully.
“I’m your Liderc. I should be driving you to your destination as you enjoy the view, not be chauffeured around by you. I hate feeling useless,” I grumbled.
She gaped at me for a second before chuckling. That she found my reaction silly—valid though her response was—aggravated me a bit more. Yet, the amused and slightly tender emotions emanating from her mollified me. I fucking loved her sweeter emotions.
“Vazul, you’re so stinking adorable,” she said softly. “You’re not being useless. You’re keeping me company and being my mental support during an evening I really don’t want to attend. Anyway, you can’t drive until we have sorted out your papers. But don’t worry, soon enough you’ll be the one complaining about how much driving I’m making you do.”
“It will never be too much,” I countered firmly with a haughty sniff.
She chuckled again and took off. It was a twenty-minute drive to our destination—a fancy housing complex located near the heart of downtown. During the journey, Coral gave me a quick breakdown of the people who would be in attendance, and the things to watch out for. Her nervousness when it came to Angelique was almost palpable. It shamed me to admit that her fear of losing me tickled me pink.
We entered the building and made our way to the elevators. It flew up to one of the penthouses. The closer we got to our destination, the more restless my Mistress became. It displeased metremendously. At first, I egotistically assumed it was all due to her apprehension about Angie’s reaction to me. But it finally dawned on me that it was the entire circle that made her uneasy. She didn’t want to be with these people.
So why were we here?
I almost suggested that we leave but kept my peace. In the end, the situation with Angie needed to be put to rest. Delaying things wouldn’t do us any good. And I wouldn’t tolerate my Coral’s delicious emotions being tainted by this type of stress.
The most intense sense of déjà vu slapped me the moment the door opened before us. So many times before, in far older eras, I had attended this type of gathering. It was always the same thing. Most of the guests possessed varying levels of magic, with only a handful of others being laymen, mundane, or normies—as non-magic users were often referred as.
It always baffled me why these people congregated together. Half of them disliked each other—not to say flat out despised—and would stomp all over each other to get ahead. Most harbored some sort of jealousy or envy hidden behind syrupy smiles and backhanded compliments. They were fully aware that beneath those fake friendships, they were all using each other either as steppingstones to increase their power, or as punching bags to make themselves feel superior. No wonder my Coral didn’t want to be a part of this. Her soul was too sweet and pure for these jackals.
To be fair, not all of them were foul. In fact, Sophia turned out to be quite pleasant. Like the others, she only mingled with this group in order to increase her power. But she did so while earning everything through hard work instead of trying to leech off others. She understood that you couldn’t grow in this field by isolating yourself, like my Mistress was. Sophia just excelled at navigating safely in a shark-infested sea.
Obviously, I had known Coral’s magic to be fairly basic. But now, standing amidst her peers, I realized that she was barely anovice, a baby amongst powerful witches. It whipped all of my protective instincts into a frenzy. However powerful these witches were, none compared to me. Anyone who tried to mess with my Mistress would find out the hard way.
“Coral, there you are!” said an attractive female with an excessive enthusiasm as she pushed her way through the crowd and headed towards us.
A single glance sufficed for me to know this was Angelique. The long silver white hair alone gave it away. Her ankle-length, second skin of a black dress left little to the imagination. The plunging neckline was deep enough to give vertigo to the most resilient person. And yet, she managed to make it look elegant instead of vulgar. How she managed to walk on those sky-high stilettos defied gravity. The blood red lipstick on her generous lips certainly served its purpose in drawing attention to her face.
Every man in attendance couldn’t help but steal covetous glances her way, even those whose emotions claimed they resented and even hated her.
“And what a mighty fine specimen of manhood you have brought us tonight, Angie continued, pressing her hand to her chest.
The same blood-red color on her manicured nails acted in a similar fashion as they did on her lips, but this time by drawing wandering eyes to her perky breasts.
“No wonder you kept him hidden from us. In your shoes, I’d definitely do the same.”
She added that last sentence while giving me a less-than-subtle once over.
“Hello, Angelique,” Coral replied with the appropriate level of friendliness, even though every emotion radiating from her expressed that she wanted to cuss her out instead. “Thank you for the invitation. This is myboyfriend, Vazul Droog. Vazul, please meet our host, Angelique Delaney.”
Droog wasn’t my last name. Lidercs—and most underworldbeings for that matter—didn’t have surnames. But in the Mortal Realm, we often took a last name that represented the circle we came from, our breed, or classification. In my case, it was an anagram of the Hungarian word Ördög, which meant demon.
Although I knew she intended to introduce me that way, Coral claiming me as her boyfriend instead of her servant did the craziest thing to me. The not-so-subtle way in which she emphasized the nature of our relationship almost made me hard. I loved being publicly claimed by her. I wanted to thump my chest and shout from the rooftops. Instead, I slipped a possessive arm around my woman, drew her tightly against me, and settled my palm just on the side of that scrumptious behind of hers.
Fuck, now I want to give it a good nip again!
“Hello, Ms. Delaney,” I said in my most courteous voice.
Although we had never met, I recognized the unpleasant taste of her emotions. I remembered all too well the time she devoted trying to get me to hatch. The greed, the impatience, the anger, and the malice had been overwhelming. She’d acquired my egg with very specific goals in mind. My failure to hatch on her timeline infuriated her as it derailed the lucrative plans she had been setting in motion. Once she realized who I was, she would lose her shit.
And I was here for it.
“Oh please, call me Angelique, or better yet, just Angie!” she exclaimed with an almost offended expression. “Ms. Delaney is my mother. I’m much too young and single to be called this way in an intimate setting, and especially among friends. So I hope you’ll allow me to call you Vazul. Such a lovely and unusual name.”
I responded with a stiff smile and bowed my head in concession. Although she couldn’t find fault with my response, the perceptive female immediately caught that her charms weren’t working on me. The instant anger that stirred within her pleased me to no end.
