Riordan sighed. “We can afford it. Mostly.”
Wade followed Riordan through rows of shelving filled with boxes of liquor and beer to the back, where kegs were stacked against the wall. Leaning against one and taking a sip of beer from a glass mug with a contemplative expression on a weathered face was a fae who barely came up to Wade’s knees. Dark brown hair curled away from Merv’s head, and his beard was long and bushy. A bit of foam from his beer coated his mustache, which he licked off after a second.
“Merv,” Riordan said, letting Wade’s hand go so he could cross his arms over his chest. “What have I said about drinking through the inventory?”
“That leftover amounts are fine for me to imbibe,” Merv replied. He belched again, holding the mug up and eyeing it critically. “Ach, but I think this keg’s beer is a wee off on the taste profile. I’ll have to drink more to be sure.”
“No, you won’t. Whatever is left of the inventory is fine. Go upstairs and finish the paperwork. Don’t make me ask twice.”
It was a couple more minutes of grumbling on Merv’s part, cajoling on Riordan’s, and the stealing of a mug before Merv could be herded back upstairs. He stomped his way up the wooden steps, muttering under his breath about stingy selkies, but he went all the same.
“That seemed easy enough. I don’t know why Donal needed help,” Wade said.
“He and Merv get along maybe half the time. Merv tends to bite, and Donal always takes offense to that.”
Wade laughed. “At least he seems nice?”
“Nice enough. Though I wouldn’t want to be bitten by him. It’s never fun.” Riordan tilted his head, eyeing Wade. “I wouldn’t mind it from you though.”
Suddenly, the basement felt way too warm. Wade cleared his throat. “Really?”
Riordan quirked a smile at him, warm brown eyes looking nowhere else but at Wade. “I thought I’ve been obvious about that.”
“Admittedly, I’m never looking.”
“I find it really hard to believe that no one has ever looked at you before.” And just like that, all that warmth fled Wade. Something must have shown on his face, maybe his scent, because Riordan’s smile disappeared, replaced by concern and not a little bit of anger. “I really want to find whoever hurt you and kill them.”
“You can’t,” Wade said around the knot in his throat. “He was a god, and the master vampire he was working with in New York City is dead.”
A complicated mix of emotions crossed Riordan’s face. “If a vampire hurt you, why did you want to meet with Abhartach?”
“Because you needed the help.”
“Wade.”
He shook his head, frowning hard. “I know what I am now. Dealing with vampires is easier because of it. And my pack made sure the god who enslaved me as a kid paid for it.”
“Enslaved,” Riordan said slowly, hands curling into fists. “What?”
Wade hunched his shoulders, reaching up to scratch at the back of his head as he looked up at the ceiling because it was easier to not look Riordan in the eye. “I never knew my father, and my mother died when I was fourteen or so. I didn’t want to stay in a group home, so I ran away, and that was the dumbest thing I could’ve done. I got picked up by people who sold me to Tezcatlipoca.Heknew what I was, even if I didn’t. Not yet. I was collared and forced to fight to the death for rich people’s entertainment, and sometimes after the fight, they…bought me. When I wasn’t fighting, I was pickpocketing. I was eighteenwhen he took us to New York City. That’s where I met my pack. That’s where Patrick, Jono, and Sage saved me.”
He could speak about it now. Years of therapy helped with that, but it still wasn’t easy spilling his metaphorical guts to someone who wasn’t pack. To wonder if they’d judge him for being a dumb kid or having weird boundaries about personal space and sex and nudity that kept shifting as he grew older.
He shouldn’t have worried.
Warm arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a tight embrace that made Wade stiffen for all of a moment. But he took a breath, drew in the scent of the sea and Riordan, and gave in to the urge to tuck his nose against the warm leather jacket collar pressed against Riordan’s neck.
“I’ll hunt down and murder anyone who ever touched you,” Riordan growled.
Wade snorted, burrowing in close, getting his hands beneath the jacket to rest tentatively over the sides of Riordan’s rib cage. “That’s nice of you, but I’d rather you not get arrested for murder.”
“No wonder you hate Niall so much.”
“I’d hate him even without knowing what it’s like to be someone’s prisoner.”
Riordan ran his hands up and down Wade’s back a couple of times before pulling away. He ducked his head, pressing a chaste kiss to Wade’s cheek, which was nice and all, but he was okay with more. So he turned his head, catching Riordan’s lips against his own, kissing inexpertly, he knew, but he liked it now. Mostly because it was Riordan, who groaned softly and deepened the kiss, pushing Wade gently up against the shelf full of alcohol and bracketing him in.
They weren’t going todoanything down in the basement of a crowded pub, but it was really nice to be wanted.
