“They got tagged for selling Martian Roach spermatophores as aphrodisiacs.”
The mention of sperm paired with aphrodisiac sent my brain to a bad place. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“For the record, it’s a capsule full of roach sperm.” His expression soured. “Do you think I would do the research to find out what that is, let alone imagine someone desperate enough to try it, for a laugh?”
“Your face says no, but I think deep down the answer is probably yes.”
Ambrose swirled around Bishop’s ankles, eager to get out on the streets, which made me suspicious.
“That never gets less creepy.” He shuddered. “He’s worse than the spermatophores.”
“Ambrose isn’t worse than roach sperm.”
“You named it Ambrose, and that’s what makes it worse. Names have power. You shouldn’t have done that.”
Ambrose came with the name, whether it had been his originally or one he adopted later, I couldn’t say. I hadn’t realized Bishop didn’t know that choice nugget of intel. Maybe he wasn’t as all-knowing about my situation as I thought.
“I know, I know.” I kicked at Ambrose, not that he felt it. “He just had that Ambrose look about him.”
“Midas hasn’t seen him?”
“Midas can’t see him, or he would have brought it up by now.” I thought about it. “No pack member has mentioned it, not even Abbott, so I’m guessing no one can.”
It happened like that sometimes, even among the supernatural set. Creatures who could practice magic, like necromancers or witches, could often see beyond the veil if they had enough power. Creatures whose magic was sewn into their bones, like wargs or Atlanta’s gwyllgi hybrids, were more grounded. They might sense a presence or catch a glimpse from the corner of their eye, but they couldn’t see things like Ambrose unless he manifested. And to do that, I would have to be feeding him a lot more than I ever planned on.
“That’s going to make for an awkward conversation,” he said on the ride down to the lobby.
“You have no idea.”
Ambrose was our third wheel, but Midas had no clue our every move was catalogued by the creep. He was always around, always snooping, always interrupting our private time. I definitely needed a stronger barrier between us now that things were escalating between Midas and me in the romance department.
No one stopped us on our way out, but I got looks from several pack members. Mostly curious. None hostile. I called that a win.
“Ares was looking for you earlier.” Hank held the door for us. “She’s back at the den now.”
News of my relocation must not have made the rounds yet then. Too bad it wouldn’t stay that way.
“Thanks.” I called for a Swyft, and Bishop stared at me. “What?”
“You and Ares are friendly, right?” He held the door for me. “What’s with the tone?”
“I overheard the tail end of a conversation not meant for my ears, and I’m not sure where we stand.”
“Ah.” He gave the driver an address. “You’re coming up in the world, and there will be people you pass along the way.”
The situation wasn’t that black-and-white, but then nothing was, really. “I get that, but it still sucks.”
When the driver stopped at our destination a few minutes later, I pulled out of my head enough to gawp. “This guy is operating out of a church?”
“He’s the janitor.” Bishop led the way out of the car and up the stairs. “He should be on shift.”
A sour taste coated the back of my throat as I wondered if I was about to collect heart number two. The analytical part of my brain that warned he was no longer coven and therefore might not count was no easier to swallow. Who had I become that these decisions fell to me? How much worse would it be once I bonded with the city? I had a feeling I wasn’t ready for the answer.
A thin man with hollows under his eyes answered the door before Bishop could knock. “Yes?”
Bishop flashed the man a roll of cash. “Are you Lucas?”
“Luke,” he corrected out of habit then nodded. “Who sent you?”
“Ben Franklin.”
Luke cracked a smile and waved us in. “What’s the problem?”
“This one is a succubus.” Bishop hooked his thumb at me, wisely positioning himself out of striking range. “She keeps me wrung out, if you know what I mean.”
“We don’t get many of those in the city.” Avarice glittered in his eyes, as if I were one more object for him to buy or sell. “I have just the thing.” He swept his gaze over me. “Though there’s a free solution.”
The portrait of innocence, Bishop leaned in. “Oh?”
“Let her feed on multiple partners.”
Ugh.
I never saw that one coming.
“She’s got a taste for me, I’m afraid.” Bishop rubbed at his mouth. “I heard you’ve got a fix for that.”
“I’ve got a stimulant that will keep you going for days.” He dialed the ick factor up to ten when he waggled his eyebrows at me. “How’s that sound?”
Like he wanted me to punch in his teeth. “Great.”
“Let me check my supply.” He scanned the massive open room from left to right. “Give me a minute.”
Once we were alone, I glared a hole through the side of Bishop’s head. “A succubus?”
“He’s a little blue pill dealer. I had to pitch him a plausible issue.”
“You couldn’t have told him you were an incubus?”
“How sad would that be? An incubus who couldn’t get it up?” He shook his head. “I flattered you. Why would you want to insult me?”
The cover did fit the situation, but sheesh. All this sex talk was squicking me out. For the most part, Bishop treated me like a kid sister. Hearing the fictional state of his erection made me super uncomfortable.
And, if I was being honest, it might have also slid my thoughts in a different direction. One with blond hair, blue eyes, and a spot reserved in my bed.
Truth be told, I had trouble relaxing when his hands roamed in his sleep. It made me wonder if I could get away with blaming my subconscious for my hands wandering too.
Probably not.
“This is the last batch.” Luke jogged over with a vial in hand. “You’re lucky you got here in time.”
That line didn’t really work on people, did it? I bet he had a box full of the stuff hidden away.
“Good enough?” I checked with Bishop, who nodded. “Excellent.”
I stuck out my hand to accept the vial then tossed it to Bishop. He caught it while I clamped my hand over Luke’s wrist and twisted his arm behind him. I leveraged his arm higher until he squeaked and trembled, and then I got down to business.
“You’re ex-coven.” I gave him time to answer, but he shut his mouth. “That’s what I’ve heard. The thing is, you’re peddling roach Viagra out of a church, and that makes me curious how you came by it if you’ve cut ties with them.”
“I left with my supply after some psycho bitch killed Iliana.” He struggled against me. “I haven’t had contact with them since.”