Blind Warrior (The Weavers Circle #3) - Jocelynn Drake Page 0,117
“Are you kidding me? Sky puppies?”
Cort’s beautiful face spread into a huge grin, his eyes sparkling with ill-concealed laughter. “With their little faces and soft wings. You’re not a fan of bats?”
“I never gave them much thought, but I definitely never thought of bats as sky puppies.”
Cort snickered and got them walking again. “Adorable. They are adorable.”
“I’m starting to reconsider our bonding,” Grey said in a faux-serious voice that only made Cort laugh.
His lover’s laughter died away as they neared the food court. The volume of conversation rose to almost deafening levels as all the voices bounced off the smooth tile walls along with the sizzle of hot oils and beep of oven timers. The scent of fried foods, sweets, and a wide array of spices assaulted Grey’s nose. Hands down, this was an absolute nightmare before adding in the presence of a powerful pestilent.
“Do you see him?” Cort said in a low voice while still trying to be heard over the noise.
“Not yet. Turn me a little toward the center of the room,” Grey instructed. He couldn’t risk turning his head and giving away that he was looking around the room.
Cort shifted him and took a few steps forward when Grey caught sight of him seated at a table with four chairs in the middle of the swirling chaos. It was a shock to actually see him for the first time. He was undeniably a handsome man with dark hair and elegantly cut features. There was only a hint of reddish glow to his brown eyes and his lips were settled into an expression of mild bemusement, as if he were entertained by the bustling of the humans around him.
He was dressed in a dark suit with an evergreen tie, as if it were a nod to the holiday festivities. It was enough to make Grey feel underdressed in his jeans, T-shirt, and oversized flannel shirt. But then, the flannel was hiding the pair of handguns on his person.
“Man in the suit?” Cort asked.
“Yes,” Grey hissed.
Cort carefully ushered them through the crowd as well as the lines of tables and haphazardly arranged chairs. It took all of Grey’s restraint to not step around and move chairs out of his way.
“Grey,” John greeted, his voice an almost amused purr. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
“John,” Grey bit out.
Cort moved around him and pulled out a chair. With a little more nudging, he got Grey into the chair and then stood behind him, hand on his shoulder.
John’s gaze strayed up to Cort, lines cutting across his brow for a moment. “I’ve met the Water Weaver, and there was the always pleasant Earth Weaver just a few days ago, but I can’t say that I can place your companion.”
“This is Cort, my vision rehabilitation therapist. He’s been teaching me how to adapt to my new life.”
John’s eyes widened, as he likely realized that Cort wasn’t a Weaver, but an ordinary human. “And you wish to…talk in front of him? Your kind has always kept the humans at a distance.”
“Yes, well, your kind has forced us to reveal ourselves to him. He’s now involved whether he wishes to be or not.” Yeah, not the entire truth since Cort would have been involved simply because he was Grey’s soul mate, but John didn’t need to know any of that.
John gave a little shrug of his shoulders as if it made no difference to him and folded his hands loosely together on the bright blue tabletop. “The leaders of my world believe that we can establish a balance between our two homes so that we can coexist.”
“Is this a temporary measure? Are your people going to work toward autonomy again? Or are we treating this as a permanent cohabitation?”
“The hope is that this is just a temporary measure. That it will help sustain us so we can turn our attention toward a more permanent and lasting fix.” The words were smooth and confident, with the right amount of placating, but there was a sliminess to his smile. Grey didn’t believe it, but he could see how most people would buy the shit he was shoveling. John was pretty damn convincing.
The pestilent parted his hands, holding them open to Grey. “There is one small thing. We would need to bring a considerable number of our people through the rift to work on the spell needed to establish the balance between the worlds.”
“More warlocks like you?”
His nose wrinkled a little at the word, but John’s smile