Bodies whirled around a huge, roaring fire that dominated the center of the room. Everywhere Lily looked, heads lolled and torsos writhed as people in varying states of undress spun in concentric circles around the bonfire. The music sounded almost tribal. It had a dark, driving rhythm juxtaposed against vaporous vocals that were mostly remixed whispers and sighs. In the background, Lily could hear chanting from people lurking in the dark. Many wore masks and little else. She looked up at the towering bonfire. There was no ceiling above it, just sparks floating up into the night sky.
Skirting around the edge of the circle of entranced revelers, they passed low tables surrounded by cushions and pillows. Lily peered through the veils draped over one such arrangement and saw a woman. She was sitting astride a young man, kissing him deeply. Her ungloved hand reached out to another man sitting next to them. She slid her hand up his bare chest and grasped his willstone. He threw back his head, his body shaking as he cried out.
“Oh my God,” Lily gasped, clutching at Tristan’s arm. “She’s hurting him.”
“Ah, a little,” Tristan began tentatively. “But trust me, he’s enjoying it. If she were really hurting him, you’d know.”
“Is she claiming him right now?”
Tristan laughed uncomfortably. “Probably not. Witches and crucibles don’t always claim a guy when they touch his stone. Remember—he has to allow her to claim him, and she has to want to take on all that responsibility. Claiming is a big deal. But touching stones can be just for fun between people who aren’t looking for anything more. Or it can be awful.” Tristan made an exasperated sound. “You have to understand some of this. You can’t be that innocent.”
Lily looked at the guy that the woman was straddling. He was definitely having fun. Then she looked at the guy who was separate from the couple. The woman barely touched his stone with her fingertips, and he was practically losing his mind.
“So, it’s like sex?” Lily hazarded.
Tristan stared at her disbelievingly, like she was missing an important point. “Rowan really hasn’t…?” Tristan broke off before he finished that sentence, and pulled Lily along. “C’mon. I think we’re getting a table.”
Rowan was at the bar, talking to the slender bartender who had big blue eyes and bright pink hair. They clasped hands warmly over the bar, apparently good friends, and the bartender pointed to a booth off to the side that had a reserved sign on the table.
“Caleb’s boyfriend, Elias,” Tristan said, waving to the bartender and going directly to the booth.
“Love the pink hair. Should we go say hi?” Lily asked, curious to meet giant Caleb’s itty-bitty boyfriend. She’d only heard mention of Caleb’s partner, Elias, in passing and, sensing that Caleb was an intensely private person, hadn’t wanted to pry. But she was curious—especially now that she saw how adorable Elias was.
“He’ll come over when he’s not too busy.”
“He’s really cute,” Lily said with a devilish grin.
“No idea what he sees in a meathead like Caleb,” Tristan said, grinning back.
Tristan and Lily sat down while Rowan accepted a bottle and three short glasses from Elias, then made his way to the booth. He hadn’t taken two steps when a scantily clad girl wrapped her arms around Rowan’s waist and pressed herself against him, nuzzling her face under his chin.
“And so it begins,” Tristan said, sighing.
Lily watched as Rowan smiled sweetly at the girl, tucked the bottle under his arm to free up a hand, and pried her off of him. Lily turned to Tristan, an eyebrow cocked. “Seriously?” she asked.
“It gets worse,” Tristan said, leaning back. “She was just a crucible. She’s got no shot. Wait till a witch finds out he’s here.”
Lily tamped down a surge of jealousy while she watched Rowan run a gauntlet of girls who all reached out to touch him, trying to catch his attention or just feel him up for all Lily could tell. “But why? He’s good-looking, but so are you.”
“Because he’s special. Gifted. He could take even an average witch and make her very powerful.” Tristan smiled at her. “And thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Lily said, and flashed a smile back at him.
Rowan finally made it to the booth and sat down. “Moonshine?” he asked, looking between Lily and Tristan. He didn’t wait for a response before starting to pour.
A bare leg and a whirl of gauzy material flashed over Rowan as a woman took a seat astride him. She was in her mid-twenties, beautiful, and she had long, light brown hair. Lily hated her instantly. Rowan didn’t seem too surprised to have a witch in his lap, and Lily supposed sitting on a guy was the way witches shook hands at a bonfire.
“Hello, dearest. Come to let me claim you?” the woman asked.
“Hello, Nina,” Rowan replied pleasantly.
Without any more chat, Nina leaned forward and kissed him. Lily felt Tristan take her hand under the table, stopping her, and realized that she’d leaned forward to stand up. She wanted to launch herself across the table at both of them, but then she noticed that Rowan wasn’t returning the kiss. He was simply tolerating the witch, like he didn’t have a choice. Nina tightened her thighs on his hips and ran her right hand up his chest, searching for his willstone. She wasn’t wearing a glove on that hand. Rowan grabbed her wrists hard, and she pulled away.
“Don’t touch,” he said. Rowan’s smile was polite, but his eyes had knives in them. He released her wrists and sat back, looking at her lazily.
“Romantic Rowan. You have to be more realistic,” she cooed condescendingly. “I know Lillian set you up handsomely, but eventually you’re going to need another witch to look after you. And you know I’m not only talking about money.” She smiled and ran her fingers over his face. Lily wanted to slap her, and not just because she was jealous. She wanted to slap her for treating Rowan like a piece of meat. “Everyone knows that after Lillian, I’m the strongest witch in all the thirteen Covens. And with you as my head mechanic, I could be just as strong as she ever was.”
Rowan jerked his head away, dodging her touch. “Nina? You’re delusional.”