Hail to the Queen (Witch For Hire 2)

“You’re back early. Is it safe to assume you didn’t stop by to have lunch with me?” Cristobal lifts a thick brow.

“I wish I could prove you wrong, but I’m here to accept a delivery coming in and have Miles fire up the lab. Besides, isn’t this more like breakfast for you?” I step up beside him and run my fingers through his soft hair, massaging his scalp. He moans, leaning into my caress. There’s a reason vampires have been called creatures of the night. While the sun doesn’t harm them, the penchant for late hours remains from the time when they were forced to hide.

“Semantics. What are you waiting for?” His clear baritone is pleasant to my ear. He turns toward me, nuzzling my neck.

“A coffin that was broken into or escaped from. The jury’s still out on which way it happened.”

He pauses and pulls away. “Accidental vampire?” His shoulders tense.

“Highly unlikely. I found multiple tracks out by the gravesite.”

He studies me with dark pools of brown surrounded by ridiculously long lashes. “You have a theory?”

“No. I need to look into the woman who was snatched first. It might’ve been about more than food.”

His lips turn down at the corner. “You saw signs of this?”

“Uh-uh. It’s more like wishful thinking. Anything that eats human flesh is bad news.”

“Hmmm.” He cups the side of my face. His warmth seeps into me. People think vampires are cool to the touch. The fact is, they’re not. Their core temperature is lower than ours is, yes, but nothing unpleasant. “Eat with me.”

“I don’t have time?”

“I can feel your hunger and exhaustion. You’re burning your candle at both ends of the wick. None of us can afford to have you down, dove.” The pet nickname clinches the deal. The tone of his voice changes when he uses it. It softens, sheds some of its magical qualities as if he’s baring the very essence of his being to me. I imagine it’s as close to his original human voice as he can get.

“I know.” One coronation takes a good year of planning. I’m attempting to arrange two close together, and one requires learning the intimate workings of a culture that’s been so shrouded in shadows and myths, I’m learning everything from scratch. The fatigue threatens to overtake me. My shoulders slump. I could

fight, but a good leader knows when to conserve their energy and admit their shortcomings.

I want to be superwoman, always there to lead a rescue, loyal, and just. Though, right now, I’m a witch stretched too thin, stuck between my people and the vampire court who’ve claimed me as their queen.

“Then come, sit, let me feed you.”

I admired the fluffy pile of French toast artfully coated with powdered sugar and piled high with fresh strawberries in front of him.

He pats his lap, and I allow myself to be swept up in his insatiable need to provide, protect, and pamper. I lean back against him, embracing the tender moment among the insanity. He kisses my temple and closes me in with his arms on either side of me as he cuts the bread with graceful movements. I soak up his steady calm. Cristobal Cortez is fast becoming my refuge. The thought is alarming.

He spears a small pile of squares, taking care to add strawberries and a bit of whip cream. I pull away, slightly, and open my mouth. Sweetness dances along my tongue. I moan.

“Good?”

“Mmm hmm.” I lick my lips, and he fixes his intense gaze on me. I could catch on fire from that look alone. The bond between us comes to life. Flooded with energy and comfort, my body tingles. I gasp. Warmth forms in my belly. Let me help you bear some of this weight. You are no longer alone, dove.

After so many years of running from what exists between us, relaxing into this connection takes effort. Setting aside my pride, I allow myself to feel. The corners of his lips curve upward. He offers me another bite. “Thank you.”

I swallow. “For what? Letting you add inches to my waistline?”

He chuckles. “For allowing me to take care of you. Control has never been something you relinquished easily.”

“Would you have tried so hard if it was?”

He smirks. “I could have done nothing less. You’re worthy of the effort it took for me to convince you, Reina.”

He feeds me until I’m ready to burst.

I turn my head away. “I can’t eat another bite.”

He sets the silverware down dead center on the plate, in an x. His polite, precise movements have become endearing. Control is a prized possession among vampires, and my man has it in spades. I catch slivers of his contentment and admiration through our bond. The scent of leather, woods, and masculinity winds around me. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to him.