Under His Spell (Blanchard Coven 2): An M/M Vampire Romance Page 2

All of the public areas were usually sparse, because people were up, out and about at all times of day or night. Bennett was used to it by now. Today there was a pair of familiar faces curled up together on the couch. One of them was watching a television that had been mounted on top of a fireplace, lifting a spoonful of cereal up to her mouth, while the other was busy thumbing through pages of a grimoire settled on her lap while adjusting the glasses on her face. Both of them were cuddled up close to each other, sharing a thick wool blanket.

  Bennett put on the best smile he could muster. “Good morning, Soraya, Haley,” he said, nodding to the both of them and taking the little armchair right next to them. “Or, well, good afternoon.”

  “Afternoon, Benny,” Soraya replied, lifting another spoonful of cereal to her mouth. Soraya Garcia had long, well-coiffed locks of pink hair on her head, but she’d shaved a side while she flipped the rest over on the other. There was a glint of humor in her bright green-colored eyes, which sparkled in contrast to her deeply tanned skin. She was beautiful, Bennett thought, and was definitely striking. “Miss Ifi told us you were having nightmares again, so Little Miss Overcompensating over here is trying to find a nice little potion or something to help ease your mind a little bit.”

  Haley looked up and frowned. In contrast, Haley McFadden was a mousy, red-haired woman with bright green eyes and skin so pale, she was almost translucent. If she had black hair, Haley and Bennett would have looked like siblings, or so the young warlock thought. Haley tugged on the bottom of her baggy shirt and pouted. “I just wanted to help.”

  Soraya shook her head, and flipped back a long strand of her pink hair. “I told you that you could make a nice pot of chamomile tea and it would do the same thing.”

  “Yeah, but what if there was a spell, or a poultice, or a rune or sigil that we could use to help him?” Haley asked. She turned to Bennett. “I’m sorry to talk about you like you’re not here, by the way.”

  Bennett smiled. He gave a little shrug. “It happens. Besides, I’m happy you were thinking of me. It’s the thought that counts.”

  “Yeah, but if she made that pot of tea like I told her, I could have whipped us up some nice cookies to go along with it.” Soraya sighed, and put the nearly-empty bowl of cereal on the coffee table before her.

  Haley made a little “tsk” sound and pointed at the bowl. “That’s gonna leave a ring.”

  Soraya smirked. “Yeah, but we’re going to leave it there anyway, because we’re rebels.”

  Haley leaned over to smooch Soraya on the lips. “No, we’re not. Well, you might be, but I’m not,” she said. “Are you done with that?”

  Soraya nodded.

  Haley sighed. She swiped the bowl from the table. “I’ll take it back, then.” Placing the grimoire carefully on the seat next to her, she stood up and walked the bowl over to the kitchen area nearby.

  Bennett couldn’t help the little peal of laughter that erupted from his lips at the sight. He turned to Soraya. “You and Haley are like night and day.”

  Soraya nodded. “But it works, doesn’t it?” She said, completing Bennett’s thought.

  The young warlock nodded. “You do. The way you look at her tells me how much you love her. And vice-versa, too.”

  In response, the pink-haired woman shrugged and leaned back against the couch behind her. She turned to look at the ginger-haired woman, and then towards Bennett. “You know, someone else in this building looks at you the way I do Haley.”

  Bennett knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “That’s not the first time today someone has told me that,” he said. “Miss Ifi was deliberately avoiding saying anyone’s name outright, but I don’t know who it could be.”

  Haley walked over and plopped back into her seat. “It’s not surprising that you don’t notice,” she said. “You’ve been focused on other things. Like your recovery, for example. You’ve been meeting the other witches and warlocks in the House, and getting into the rhythm of life here, too.”

  “One has to wonder, however,” Soraya started to say, lifting up a hand to gently run her fingers through Haley’s hair in a loving, idle gesture. “How long will it take for this person to show themselves to you, especially now that they know how obtuse and clueless you can be in matters of the heart?”

  “I still don’t know who this person is,” Bennett replied. He ran a hand through his hair and frowned. His mind raced as he tried to scour his brain for answers. He sat back on the chair, trying to get more comfortable.

  Just who was everyone talking about?

  Chapter Two

  Elijah Lillegard was in a foul mood, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

  Dancing the night away was not an option, as this would be the fifth time just this week that he’d be doing that, and the twentieth time this month. Sure, he was technically the owner of Pastiche, the nightclub the Blanchard coven operated and had to be at the club most nights, but he wasn’t supposed to be spending a good majority of it drunk out of his mind and grinding against men and women on the dance floor.

  So, in actuality, he’d been in a foul mood for close to a month now.

  Hell, even his favorite night-time activities weren’t helping.

  He grunted, and tossed his tablet to the side of the bar, closing the app that flashed a book cover on the screen. It was his favorite book— a bodice ripper romance, where a man with an open, silk shirt and a woman in a corset with her breasts almost spilling out were entwined in some sort of embrace.

  Yes, he had been so frustrated that he had taken to reading a romance novel in the middle of the club.

  That was how bad it was.

  Elijah poured himself another shot of tequila and quickly drank it down, feeling the heated liquid slide down his throat.

  “Hey, you look like shit.”

  Elijah turned to his bartender, who was busy wiping down the bar with one of those shit-eating smirks on his cocky-looking face. He took the bottle from Elijah, and stowed it away behind the counter.

  Elijah returned the smile with a scoff. “A bold lie, Mister Gage Holloway,” he replied. “I know I clean up well.”

  “That you do, Mister Lillegard, that you do,” Gage agreed. “But you’re getting surlier and surlier by the second and I’m pretty sure it’s because you haven’t gotten laid in like…I wanna say, three weeks now?”

  Elijah scoffed yet again, and shook his head. He turned to look the man right in the eyes. The man was right, but Elijah didn’t really want to give the man the satisfaction. “Hey, Gage, you know I pay your salary, don’t you?”

  Gage flashed yet another winning smile at Elijah. “I know, boss man, but I rake in the tips and keep the guys and gals happy. I’m pretty sure you can’t get rid of me.”

  Elijah looked up at Gage. He was a handsome guy, for sure, and just the slightest bit taller than Elijah was. If one liked that whole blond-haired, Viking conqueror look complete with icy blue eyes, then Gage would have made for a perfect specimen. Whenever he wore his uniform—a tight black shirt that left little to the imagination, but showed off his biceps—Gage had both women and men drooling over him. He was handsome, and he knew it. Elijah respected that, at least, because once upon a time, he would have thought he was just as hot.

  But he’d been off his game, lately, especially when Elijah started thinking about him.

  Just the thought of him was enough to get Elijah’s engines running.

  “Smart ass,” Elijah replied. “You’re just lucky I can’t kick you out. Coven member privileges and all that.”

  He looked around the club, watching a custodian mop down the dance floor and another clean up the VIP area. The security team was having a little meeting on one corner of the room.

  “I wasn’t aware that being part of the Blanchard coven afforded me job security,” Gage said. “But that’s nice to know. Anyway, chin up, yeah? I’m sure he’ll come around any day now.”

  Elijah frowned. “Maybe,” he said noncommittally, sliding his shot glass towar
d Gage. “Give me one more.”

  Gage shook his head, but lifted the bottle of tequila from behind the bar to refill the shot once again. “The night hasn’t even started yet, boss. Are we going for a record tonight?”

  Elijah grunted. He downed the drink and set the glass on the table. The warmth of the tequila was just enough to get Elijah’s blood flowing through his body and the heat to spread through to his fingertips. “No,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’m not staying here tonight. Just needed to pregame a little bit.”

  Gage tilted his head. “Oh? That’s different,” Gage said. “You’re not going to be sticking around Pastiche?”

  Elijah shook his head. “No. Tonight, I’m finally going to tell him.”

  “Tell him what?” Gage asked.

  “That he’s my mate, Gage. He’s my mate, and he needs me now more than ever.”

  Just as much as I need him.

  The bartender’s smirk turned into a real smile. “Congrats, man, that’s big.”

  Was it really?

  Elijah didn’t know about that. He’d labored under the idea that when you found your mate, it just…clicked. It did for him. The moment those blue-gray eyes, the color of a fair afternoon sky after it rained, returned his gaze, something happened somewhere deep down inside of him. It felt like his heart was beating for the very first time, and life filled him in a way that it never had before. Hell, every part of his body was reacting. He felt blood rush into places—very inappropriate places—especially considering the state Bennett came to the Blanchard building in.

  But…his mate didn’t seem to feel the same way, or so Elijah thought. In that one indescribable instant where their gazes met, it didn’t seem like an earth-shattering moment for the other man the way that it was for Elijah. Instead, Bennett scurried past him with only a look of exhaustion and pain etched clear as day on his face.

  No fireworks, no earth-shattering moment of connection.

  Nada.

  And then Elijah had to will his slowly-growing erection away, because not only was it inappropriate, he didn’t exactly want to walk around at half-mast and alarming everyone he talked to.

  Elijah wanted to reach out and talk to Bennett right then and there, but he stopped himself. Instead, he kept his distance and let Bennett take the time to rest and recuperate, especially in the state the young warlock was in.

  The sight of Bennett that day they took him home still made Elijah’s chest ache like nothing else ever did. The image was seared in Elijah’s memory. He was used to seeing the seedy underbelly of the world and the shit people did to one another, but it was different when it was one’s mate, regardless of whether or not they had actually consummated the mating.

  Elijah looked up at the bartender, who was wiping down a glass and had just set it down. He thought about asking for one more shot from Gage, just to clear his mind of the lingering images of his mate battered and bruised, but he willed it away. No, he needed to maintain some level of sobriety if he was going to gather up the courage to talk to his mate.

  “I can see you don’t quite agree with what I said,” Gage said, pulling Elijah out of his slowly-darkening thoughts.

  Elijah took a moment to stare at the man in front of him, and then sighed. “No, it’s a big deal,” he said, conceding to the bartender. “I guess it’s just that I feel a little lost and helpless, and I’m not quite comfortable with that.”

  Gage laughed. “Is anyone ever comfortable with feeling lost or helpless?”

  Elijah nodded. “Fair point,” he replied. “Touché.”

  The bartender leaned forward a little, looking Elijah in the eyes and slinging the towel he was holding over his shoulder. “Look, boss man, you’ve been pining for this guy for weeks now. We both know that mating is a huge deal. It’s basically the universe’s way of apologizing to us for some of the shitty things we have to deal with, like an eternity of loneliness and a huge Vitamin D deficiency from never seeing the sun.”

  Elijah smiled at that. Gage continued to speak.

  “He’s your mate, boss man. Just flash him that killer smile that all the ladies love and show him that debonair charm that gets you all the dudes in the dating apps. You can do this. Otherwise, you’ll be sitting here for the hundredth time this month, wasting your time twiddling your thumbs and getting white girl wasted on tequila…again.”

  “White girl wasted?” Elijah repeated the phrase, choking back laughter. “Really? Is that what we’re calling it?”

  “You have to admit it’s a pretty accurate turn of phrase.” Gage then shrugged. “You see how those bachelorette parties go, and girls’ night is always crazy.”

  “True enough, I guess,” Elijah answered. Still, he frowned. As he gazed aimlessly around the still-empty club, his thoughts started to come back. Questions and worries wormed their way in from the corners of his mind in a way that they’d never had before, and they all centered around the distinct possibility that maybe, just maybe, his mate didn’t feel the same way.

  Would he have to fight for this the way Julien fought for Eos? Elijah was prepared to do it, but honestly, it wouldn’t have been preferable.

  God damn it. I need another drink.

  “What’s holding you back from this, boss man?”

  Gage’s voice broke through the cloud of thoughts that were beginning to form in his head. Elijah looked back up to his friend and employee.

  “Nothing’s holding me back,” Elijah said. He slid the shot glass in his hand over to Gage once more. “Get me another shot.”

  “Nah, man, I think you’re cut off,” Gage answered. “I don’t want you to ruin such a big night. But seriously—what’s holding you back? You’d usually be half way to the door by now.”

  Elijah sighed. It was true—those darkening thoughts were gathering again at the edges of his mind and closing in, and he didn’t quite know what to do or say, which was…new, so to speak. Elijah usually didn’t feel this way about much, if at all. “Is it that obvious?” he asked.

  Gage nodded. He set the shot glass to the side, where the other used glasses should be, if they had any. “I can read you like a book.”

  “I’m just wondering about how to go about it. Telling him that I’m his mate,” Elijah said. “I don’t usually overthink this type of thing. I’m a pretty smooth guy. Hell, I usually find a guy or girl to be my arm candy for the night within ten seconds of the club opening, but this just feels…different.”

  “Like I said, this is big,” Gage answered. “This is you staking a claim on your mate. Sure, you’re not actually going to complete the bond just yet, but this is still you telling this person that they’re a big part of your life. Maybe one of the only parts of your life that matters, all things considered.”

  Elijah narrowed his eyes at the bartender, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. The foul mood that he had let simmer down slightly threatened to bubble up again. Funny, because he wasn’t usually so serious about…well, anything. “What exactly do you mean by that?” he asked.

  Gage laughed, shaking his head as he started to wipe down some of the other glasses and bottles on the bar with the handy towel over his shoulder. “I don’t mean anything bad by it. We’ve all been taught that mating is this big thing. It’s not that we’re incomplete without our mates, it’s just that we’re more complete when we meet and bond with our mates than when we’re alone. Hell, some of us don’t even meet our mates within a single human lifetime. For others, it takes dozens of them, and still they don’t meet their mates. Look at Vadim. He’s been around for a long time—much longer than most of us here.”

  “Yeah, but we’re not talking about Vadim right now, although I do get your point,” Elijah replied. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be so snippy.”

  “Hey, I get it,” Gage replied. “Mating is a tricky thing. It’s wonderful and great, but it does make you wonder sometimes how it’d be if our mates didn’t know or understand it the way that we did.”

  Elij
ah nodded. “Therein lies my problem. All I know about Bennett is that he’s…beautiful. But he’s also had a tough time.”

  “That’s putting it mildly, don’t you think?” the bartender asked.

  Elijah sighed, and it sounded more wistful than he intended. But then again, when he thought about Bennett, all he could think about was the way Bennett’s eyes seemed even brighter when framed by the long locks of his black hair, and it made Elijah wonder if those light pink lips were just as kissable as they looked.

  It’s like I’m a schoolgirl with a crush. Elijah adjusted himself on the stool he sat on, and then looked at the bartender.

  Gage frowned. “If it’s any consolation, I understand why you need some liquid courage just to talk to the guy. I’m not quite sure what I would do given the situation, either. Do I need to approach him like he’s some kind of fragile little thing, or not? Can we talk about what happened to him? I don’t know the answer to any of these questions. Even though I know it’s not like you to be so wound-up about things, I can sympathize.”

  “Thank you, although I don’t think sympathy is the right solution to this problem,” Elijah muttered under his breath. “I’d have preferred more tequila.”

  “At least you know everyone’s got your back, boss man, even me,” Gage replied, fighting back his laughter. “So, go get him. Go get your man.”

  Elijah took a deep breath, and nodded. “You’re right. Wasn’t there that little green guy in that one sci-fi movie that said something like…do or do not, there is no try? Am I quoting that right?”

  The bartender shrugged. “I don’t know. Do I look like I’m into sci-fi? He sounds smart, for a little green dude.”

  And even though Elijah desperately wanted one more shot of tequila, just to get some more of that liquid courage in his system, he knew he’d have to get up and actually talk to his mate some time—and he definitely needed to do that sober. There was no instruction manual for something like this. He just needed to go and do it.

  Do or do not, Elijah thought to himself. There is no try.

  Just as he intended, tonight was the night Elijah Lillegard was going to tell Bennett Landry that the young warlock was his mate.