Chapter 44

Chapter 44

ALASTAIR

F or the first time in months, Alastair felt like his old self. Living on the verge of starvation, caught on the knife edge of falling to bloodlust, his mind had started to crumble.

And then Jasper, that infuriating fucking Wolf, had come along.

Feeding from him hadn’t been anything like feeding from the Vampires he’d conscripted since he’d met Fey. There had been no oily disgust filling his stomach, no intense need to keep physical distance.

Feeding from Jasper had felt right , in a way nothing else had in a long, long time. In the way being with Fey had felt right.

And he’d be fucked if he was going to let that go now.

By the time they left the club and made their way back across the city to his townhouse, Jasper was practically vibrating with excitement. The little pup had gotten himself all worked up into a frenzy, willing to shout at him. Hell, willing to shove him.

How fucking adorable it had been.

“She told me about your kiss this morning,” he told the Wolf as they reached their front door. “Tell me… what would you have done with her if your niece hadn’t interrupted?”

Jasper grinned .

“Anything she wanted,” he responded in a husky voice.

Right answer , Alastair thought. But to Jasper, he simply leaned down, close enough his lips touched against the shell of his ear as he whispered, “Naughty puppy.”

The shiver that went up Jasper’s spine was positively delicious. Smiling, Alastair pushed the front door to their town house open and?—

Smoke.

Why did he smell smoke?

Jasper sneezed loudly, scrunching his nose against the smell as they stepped inside. Alastair could barely smell it, just a hint in the air, but for a Wolf, it must be overwhelming. A quick glance around showed nothing amiss, but from the kitchen, where the smell was coming from, he could hear the sounds of someone moving around and… swearing?

“Fey?” Alastair called out, concerned, striding swiftly to the kitchen. “Are you hurt? What is that awful smell? It’s?—”

“Dinner,” Fey informed him, turning toward him with dangerously narrowed eyes. “And it’s going to be delicious.”

As she spoke, she lifted a dish from the oven, dropping it on the counter with enough force to make him wince. Goddess, she hadn’t even put down a potholder, or anything at all to protect the countertops. And that dish? The smells coming off it certainly didn’t smell like food.

“I thought you were picking up dinner tonight,” Alastair said, keeping his voice as polite as possible. Jasper appeared at his side, tactfully breathing through his mouth.

“I was going to,” Fey explained as she pulled plates from the cupboard. Alastair’s stomach rolled. “But Regina’s was closed when I went by, and we just had pizza the other night. So I thought, why don’t I cook instead?”

Goddess spare them. She wasn’t actually going to make them eat that, was she? As if in direct answer to his thoughts, Fey grabbed a knife and cut into the dish.

“Witchling, we’ve talked about this,” Alastair said gently. “Remember what happened last time you cooked?”

“Oh, please,” Fey snorted. “It was one tiny fire. Get over it. ”

That “tiny fire” had required replacing the wooden doors on half his kitchen cupboards.

“What, uh… what is it?” Jasper asked, stepping forward. It was a very good question, Alastair thought. The… thing in the glass casserole dish appeared to be yellow and orange, at least the parts that weren’t burnt. Maybe some sort of cheese?

“It’s a lasagna,” Fey told them. She clutched the knife handle a little harder as she cut. “Joy gave me the recipe yesterday, and I figured I would give it a try.”

“Lasagna,” Jasper repeated, skeptically.

“I can follow a recipe, you know,” Fey spat at Alastair, heaping a slice of horrors onto a plate and thrusting it at Jasper’s chest. “It’s not that difficult.”

It shouldn’t be, no. But in the years they’d been together, Fey had only cooked a handful of times. Not one of her concoctions had been edible.

“I don’t mind cooking for us, Witchling,” Alastair assured her. “Why don’t you sit down and rest, and I’ll…”

Jasper took a bite.

Alastair watched in horror as the Wolf chewed, face perfectly blank. It seemed to take forever, like he was chewing a sponge. When he finally swallowed, he did so with a barely perceptible shudder.

“See?” Fey shot Alastair a satisfied smile. “It’s fine. He likes it.”

“There’s, uh…” Jasper swallowed hard. “What is the sweet taste?”

“Well…” Fey looked away, chewing her lip. “We didn’t have all the right ingredients, so I had to improvise. I couldn’t find any ground beef in the icebox, but there were some chicken sausages with apple bits, so I used those instead.”

“Did you make any other substitutions?” Alastair asked, terrified of the answer.

Fey shrugged. “Just a few spices. You didn’t have oregano, so I used cumin. You had plenty of that.”

Alastair thought he might faint. His stomach roiled, his nose starting to tease apart the disparate scents of the monstrous dish in front of them. No one could eat that, no one could survive that. He had to? —

Jasper took another bite.

“What the hell are you doing?” he hissed before he could stop himself.

“It’s not bad, it’s…” Jasper swallowed an obvious gag, clamping his teeth together tightly until it passed.

“Puppy, put it down, you don’t have to?—”

The last of it went into Jasper’s mouth.

“He doesn’t have to, what?” Fey asked, turning on Alastair, eyes flaring. He was acutely aware of the knife still clutched in her hand.

Jasper, sweet stupid Jasper, swallowed hard, his eyes watering. And then he did the most remarkable thing.

He held out his plate for seconds.

“More,” he requested, unshed tears in his eyes. “Please.”

“For Goddess's sake,” Alastair muttered, watching in horror as Fey took the plate, grinning. She shot him a smug look before turning back to the dish, ready to serve up another slice. “Witchling, have some compassion. You cannot make him eat any more of that.”

“You are such a brat,” Fey informed him. “He liked it. And it’s not bad at all. I’m sure it’s fine.”

To demonstrate, she took a fork from the counter and cut a bite off for herself. “It’s just a little burnt, is all.”

She brought the fork to her mouth, and the moment her mouth closed around it, her face changed. A shudder went through her body before she pivoted, leaning over the sink to spit it out.

“It’s revolting,” she gasped, turning on the tap to wash her mouth and spit water back into the sink. “Jasper, you ate that?”

He did. He ate an entire slice. Alastair watched, amazed, as the Wolf just shrugged.

“You made it,” he said, by way of explanation.

Fucking remarkable.

Still leaning over the sink, Fey groaned. “Why was it so salty?”

“I wondered about that, too,” Jasper admitted.

Sighing, Alastair scooped up the meal, glass dish and all, and dropped it in the trash. He needed a drink. Uncorking a bottle of red wine, he poured a glass for himself and a particularly full one for Fey. She took it from him with a small murmur of thanks, gulping some down immediately to wash the taste from her mouth.

“There’s beer, if you’d like,” he informed Jasper, nodding toward the icebox. The Wolf didn’t hesitate. Tearing the cap off, he downed his first one in one go, stopping to catch his breath for a moment before opening another.

“Alastair, you’ll need to cook later, but my appetite is ruined,” Fey said, taking a sip of her wine.

Alastair chuckled. “Anything for you, Witchling.” He set his own glass of wine down, reaching out to take hers as well. “But I can think of a way we can work up an appetite…”

He pulled her toward him, brushing her hair out of her face.

Goddess, he loved the way she responded to him. Fey’s pupils widened and her breathing quickened. Just a few touches were all it took to have her panting for him.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked, licking her lips in anticipation.

“Oh, I have all sorts of things in mind,” he promised her. “Provided you haven’t actually poisoned our guest.”

Leaning against the counter, Jasper chuckled.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, boss, I’m fine,” he said, eyes sparkling.

“Good,” Alastair said. Running his hands over Fey’s body one last time, he stepped back, turning toward Jasper. “Because you owe me an apology, puppy.”

“For what?” Fey asked, irritation in her voice.

“Stay out of this, Witchling,” Alastair warned, ignoring Fey’s exasperation. He took a step toward him, enjoying the fear that crept into Jasper’s eyes.

“Did you think you could call me out like that, in my own club, without any consequences?”

Jasper’s breath caught in his chest as Alastair loomed closer.

“I want an apology, Jasper. And you better make it a good one.”

Jasper swallowed audibly. “And what kind of apology were you looking for, boss?”

Alastair smiled.

“I think you should put that mouth to good use,” he said, stepping close enough that his chest pressed against Jasper’s. The Wolf licked his lips, heart hammering in his chest so loud Alastair could hear it. Leaning down, Alastair let their lips brush together as he spoke. “Use that tongue to make her come, puppy. I want her dripping wet and satisfied before I fuck her tonight.”

Jasper’s lips curved up into a grin. “I think I can manage that,” he answered.