Desmond found us a themed club after all. One that offers body shots.

Alchemy, a nightclub in London, is decked out to look like a sorcerer’s paradise, every last decoration tied into black magic and spellcasting.

“Cherub, this is a bad idea.” Des gazes up at me from where he lays, fake flickering candles encircling him. He looks like a sacrificial offering among it all, and I guess that’s the point.

“You love bad ideas,” I say. I hold a little vial of salt in one hand, and a lime in the other.

So fucking excited.

“Normally. This one I’m not so sure of.” Under his breath he says, “Would’ve been more fun if our roles were reversed.”

I lean in close, my mouth inches from his. “I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself.” I punctuate the statement by running the lime wedge around the Bargainer’s navel. His eyes brighten, and through our bond I sense the barest hint of his excitement.

He is such a liar. He’s thrilled about the situation just as much as I am.

My attention moves from his face to his torso. I follow the lime wedge with a circle of salt.

Honestly, this is so sexy it should be illegal.

Des flashes me a wolfish smile. “Enjoying yourself, cherub?”

“Just a little.” I place the lime wedge in his mouth, and flag down the waiter.

A man dressed in sorcerer’s robes comes over with a handle of tequila. At my signal, he pours the amber liquid into Des’s navel.

Once he’s done, I lean in.

I smile at Des as I lick the salt off his abdomen.

A groan slips from between his teeth.

Pressing my lips to his navel, I swallow down the tequila.

Beneath my mouth, the Bargainer’s muscles flex. I place a hand against them as I rise, the alcohol burning down my throat.

I lean in again, pressing my lips against the Bargainer’s, then take the lime wedge between my teeth, the citrus cutting through the bite of the alcohol.

Once I set the lime aside, Des sits up and swivels to face me, kicking off an array of candles in the process.

He places his hand on a slab between his legs. “Have you had your fill, love?”

That’s a trick question, right?

I lean in. “Not even close.”

Des keeps his shirt off for the rest of the night, and the entire female population of this place can’t handle it.

Seriously, they can’t. It’s a problem.

“Everyone is looking at you,” I say.

Des sits on the bar, drinking straight from a bottle of fancy whiskey. He’s really not supposed to be doing either, but when I told him that, he simply said, “Rules are meant to be broken.” Then he winked, took a sip of his whiskey, and I spontaneously orgasmed.

Okay, the last one didn’t happen, but it was a near thing.

I sit on the barstool like normal, grown-ass woman … while my fairy king all but pins me in with his legs.

Not that I’m complaining about it. At all.

I mean, I’m right at eye level with his abs. There are worse views.

Des lowers his bottle of whiskey. “Everyone is looking at you, cherub.” He shakes his head. “The years may pass, but at the end of the day, you’re still that high school girl who’s woefully unaware of her own beauty.”

A woman steps up to the bar next to us, her arm innocuously brushing Des’s thigh.

“Sorry,” she says, apologizing even though half the people in this place are touching the other half.

I give the Bargainer a pointed look. See?

He ignores the woman, instead leaning forward. “Your wings are starting to show, baby siren.”

I’m keenly aware of that. Alcohol plus fae possessiveness plus all my lusty thoughts are making it nearly impossible to hide them.

The woman leans into Des, and this time when her arm brushes his thigh, it’s no accident.

“Do you come here often?” she asks Des, ignoring me completely.

My skin brightens, and I look at the woman. “Scoot.”

Without another word the woman pushes away from the bar, moving back into the crowd.

So that was technically against the law … but God it felt good.

“Is someone jealous?” Des flashes a devilish smile, taking another swig from his bottle.

“Pssh, no.” Yes.

I glance at my skin and frown as it dims. “This is a supernatural bar, right?”

“Not exclusively.” Using the hand that holds the bottle of whiskey, Des crooks a finger at me. I don’t move so much as his magic presses me up against him. “Which means that, much as I love these—” He touches a wing.

Oh crap, they’re out again.

“—we’re going to have to put them away.”

Beneath his palm, I feel Des’s magic pour into me, just as it did the last time he hid my wings, back at my house. There’s a momentary pressure as the magic forces them to disappear, and then they’re gone.

We stay at the nightclub for another hour, moving from the bar to the dancefloor to an area where we can just stand and mingle.

The entire time the patrons of this place watch me and Des, and there’s so much in their looks. Lust, envy, avarice. The Bargainer does nothing but seed it; I can taste his magic in the air, reckless and wild, beckoning people to make bad decisions.

Eventually they do. They drink more, touch more, and creep ever closer to us. Soon fights are breaking out, at least two couples appear to be participating in some heavy petting, and Des and I have scared off a dozen people interested in poaching on this relationship.

“Do you do this at every party you attend?” I ask.

“Do what?” he asks, appearing innocent.

“Rile people up.”

He smiles. “Are you not having a good time?”

“I literally almost clawed a woman apart five minutes ago.” She’d inserted herself between me and Des, and then proceeded to flirt with my mate—at least until he conveniently side-stepped her to rejoin me.

“Shame I stopped that so soon.”

Ugh. This is what happens when your soulmate is a fairy. True shows of devotion often involve spilling blood.

“But you’re forgetting all the men and women who’ve approached you,” he adds.

Men and women who then took one look at the menacing Bargainer and rethought their game plans.

Des sets the beer he now holds on a nearby table. “Why don’t we call it a night?”

The body shots have been drunk, the good times have been had, and everyone else here is now a sloppier mess than either of us. It’s as good a time as any to get going.

The two of us leave the club, heading down a couple blocks until we get to a local cemetery. Once there, Des leads me through a ley line entrance, the air wavering as we step through.

It takes less than a minute to travel from London back to California, and when we step off the ley line, we’re back in Des’s house.

The Bargainer whisks me out of the circular portal room, the door clicking shut at my back, lock after intricate lock engaging.

I glance at Des, who leans against the door for a moment. He’s got the devil in his eyes when he looks at me.

“What?” I say. My blood is beginning to rush through my veins.

“You didn’t think I’d let you take those body shots without repayment now, did you?” Des says.

In a blink he’s in front of me.

Shamefully, his shirt is back on. It brushes against mine as he steps into my space, backing me against a nearby wall.