Moonlight's Ambassador (Aileen Travers Book 3)(18)

Blue hair aimed a kick his way. "Hey fucker, I wasn't ready."

"Not my problem," Eric said with a negligent shrug.

The third man on the couch snorted. "He's just pissed because he's gotten his ass kicked for the last hour."

Eric didn't respond, mashing the buttons and staring intently at the screen.

"For that, I'm going to make sure all remember your name as a pathetic waste of characters," Blue said, standing and glaring at the screen as his thumb and forefinger moved over the game controller.

The third man shook his head and folded one arm behind his head. "As if you haven't had it out for him since we started." He aimed a lazy smile at the other two. He looked like a warrior from a long-ago era, one more used to swinging a broad sword, than a pen. His hair was dark, almost black, and his skin tan. He'd been turned later in life, if the crow's feet at the corner of his eyes were anything to judge by. His face looked like he'd lived and laughed and loved, the grooves just beginning to form.

"Shut up, Anton. You're just pissed you broke your controller when I pwned your ass on the last level," Blue said, not taking his eyes off the screen. His character switched between a bazooka and a sniper rifle to kill two enemies before he lobbed a grenade into a room.

The screen in front of Eric lit up, and his motions grew more frantic as he tried to lob his own grenade, only to have it rebound toward him.

Nathan stopped next to me and handed me a wine glass as a victorious cry rose from one end of the sectional and a muttered curse from the other side.

"What's this?" I asked, taking the glass. It was dark red, but lacked the consistency of blood.

"Blood wine. It's good. It's how we unwind after a long day. Thought you could use one."

I eyed it with curiosity. "I thought you said the only way we could get tipsy was to drink from an inebriated person." I frowned. At least that's what I thought he had said.

"Wow, she really is new," the Viking said, bending to line up his next shot.

I flicked a glance his way but didn't comment. He was not wrong.

Nathan frowned over at the pool shooter before turning to me. "This is an exception. It has wine and blood in it, but the wine is a fairy wine. The magic inside can make us tipsy if consumed in large enough quantities."

I now understood why my other-sight was seeing white lights fizzing and popping like bubbles in the deep red. That must be the source of the magic.

I hesitated, watching as Nathan took a generous sip of his own. Being tipsy in front of this lot didn't appeal. Any loss of control could mean bad things for me. Trust was not something I gave easily, and no one in this room had earned that.

Reading my hesitation, Nathan said, "Even then, it takes a few glasses before we feel the alcohol's effects."

I took a small sip and made a pleased expression. It tasted good. Better than wine and better than the bottled blood I'd been drinking. It popped and fizzed on my tongue. I didn't know if that was the magic or the wine, but the sensation was close to the bubbly nature of sparkling wine or champagne. So delicious.

"So, what's she doing here?" Blue asked, folding his arms over the back of the sectional and looking at me with dark, curious eyes. He didn't seem antagonistic, even if his question was borderline rude.

Eric set the controller down with a frown. "One of the new werewolves went on walkabout. Aileen has a close friendship with the person in question, and she’s already been contacted once and let her slip away. Until the wolf is found, we're on babysitter detail."

I watched Eric in fascination; it was the most I'd heard him speak. Ever.

Blue raised both eyebrows and whistled. "I'm surprised the alpha didn't demand the yearling's head."

"He has a soft spot for her," Nathan volunteered. "She's saved his life a time or two."

I scoffed. "That man doesn't have any soft spots."

Not that I could find anyway. Brax was surrounded by a diamond-studded wall of unfeeling, by-the-book rules. My being an unclaimed vampire pissed him off because it violated his set of principles. Kind of like a certain vampire, who had forced me to come here, and then pawned me off on his second in charge. The two could have been brothers given how similar they were.

"She speaks," Blue said with a wicked gleam in his eye. There was a pop of air, and then he was standing next to me. "Is it true you shot our fearless leader?"

I blinked, trying not to show how impressed I was at his speed. Not even a split second had passed. I hadn't even seen him move, before he was beside me.

"Yes, three times," I answered after a moment. It took me a second to put his question together with the incident. It had been when Liam threatened to kill my family after he'd convinced them to do an “intervention” for my nonexistent drinking problem.

"Were you really stupid enough to give a marker to a sorcerer?" the Viking asked, leaning against the pool table.

Blue didn't wait for me to confirm, his face lighting up with excitement. "Let us see it. Let’s see the mark."

My eyes went to Nathan, asking without words for him to save me from their interrogation. He kept his eyes focused on his glass as he swirled the wine around and took another sip.

No help from that quarter. Guess I should have expected it. These were his boys.