Witching Fire (The Wild Hunt #16) - Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,8

Vixen’s lover, and their sub. He was enrolled in college in a business management program. Apollo was stunning, with a perfectly symmetrical face and delicate features. His golden hair mirrored sunlight on a spring morning, and he had a model’s body. He could have been a supermodel, outshining anyone in the business, but he chose to dance at the club and go to school instead.

“Hello, darling,” he said, air-kissing my cheek. Apollo and I had developed a good friendship over the past couple of years and he occasionally watched Raj when I was gone. I made sure never to give the wrong impression, though, because Vixen was very possessive of their boytoy, and even though they were a good friend, I wanted no misunderstandings.

Vixen had chosen an androgynous form for the evening. A Taipan snake shifter, they had a deadly bite. Vixen was gender-fluid to the point of where they could change their looks, depending on their mood. Tonight, they chose a tall, lanky form, both beautiful and yet masculine, blurring the lines between gender. Vixen was also wearing enough sequins to blind a person.

“Raven, it’s always a pleasure,” Vixen said, giving me an air kiss. They glanced around as they entered the house. “So sorry we’re unfashionably punctual tonight. Apollo has exams coming up that he must study for.” They paused for a moment, then said, “Tell me, is your goth boy coming tonight?”

I sighed. Vixen didn’t like Trinity, another of my friends. Actually, not many people liked him. “I invited him, yes. I expect you to be civil in my house, Vixen. Trinity’s not to blame for his parentage.”

Vixen let out a sigh, then said, “True that. He didn’t have a choice. Very well, I’ll be civil. Oh, I see Herne and Ember—I’ll go say my hellos to them. But Raven, my dear, I want to talk to you later about a matter involving a possible possession, so pencil me in, if you would, when you have some time this week.” They kissed me on the cheek and, picking up the golden leash that circled Apollo’s neck, they headed over to greet Herne and Ember.

Kipa slid up behind me, his hands on my waist. He leaned in. “You have some interesting friends.”

“I lead an interesting life,” I whispered back.

“That you do. Vixen reminds me of a couple of the gods. The Ante-Fae are quite a bunch.”

“We are, aren’t we?” I grinned up at him. “We live on the outside of the world, even when we’re smack in the middle of it.”

The doorbell rang again and I kissed Kipa’s cheek. “Be a good wolf and get that, would you? I’m going to set out the food.”

He slapped my ass. “You sure I’m not the Big Bad Wolf?”

“Oh,” I whispered back, “I love it when you’re the Big Bad Wolf.”

Laughing, he headed toward the door as I slipped into the kitchen, where my mother was organizing the food. I stared at her. She was wearing an apron over her leather jeans, and the juxtaposition of imagery threw me for a moment.

“You are the least domestic woman I know,” I said. “Yet…somehow the apron fits with the outfit.”

Phasmoria laughed. “Right. And I’m Tinkerbell. I didn’t want to drop anything on my pants, and I wasn’t about to let you do all the work.” She paused, then asked, “You do love your friends, don’t you?”

I nodded. “They’re all good people. They’re part of my family. They’d have my back if I needed help, without ever asking why.”

Phasmoria paused. “I’m glad. I can’t be here all the time, or even most of the time. And you’re still…”

“Young, I know. But I do my best to stand on my own two feet—” I paused as Angel bustled into the kitchen, her arms filled with bags. “Angel!”

“I brought desserts. I know you probably already have goodies, but…”

As Phasmoria took the bags from her, I gave her a hug. “I’m glad you came, and we can always use more. Did you bake them?” I peeked in to see several varieties of pie.

She snorted. “You think I’d bring you store-bought pie?”

“Nope, just reassuring myself. Those will go fast. Come here, taste the chowder and tell me if I need to add anything.”

Angel was a natural-born chef. As she obligingly moved toward the stove, I stepped aside, giving her room in which to work. Angel was gorgeous. Like Apollo, she, too, could have been a model. Her white maxi dress was held up by gold buckles on the