Page 52 of The Unseelie Wish

Alex chuckled and walked over to Izael, hugging his arm. He smiled down at her. At least she understood. “It shouldn’t, but trust me, it’s a thing. Well, I’m…sure we’ll see you before all this is over.” She smiled over at the half-breed. “You’re a good friend, Puck. I really appreciate it.”

Puck let out a breath. “I’m gonna miss you kids. You’re fun.”

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Izael tried not to get sick at the statement. “One that you must understand I’ll be too dead to repay.”

The half-breed smirked. “You want me to cause a distraction while you’re trying to get to the center of the Maze. Valroy needs to be preoccupied or else he’ll just squish you the moment you set foot in there.”

Izael blinked. Anger at being correctly predicted took over before he remembered that the little bastard could travel through time. “Yes. Exactly.”

“Sure.” The other fae shrugged. “But I’m doing it for her, not you. I’ll keep an eye on you. The moment you go to the Maze, I’ll go…cook up some drama. But I can’t guarantee how much time you’ll have.”

Alex smiled at him with genuine fondness. “It’ll give us the best shot we have.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Puck grumbled. “I still hate this, but whatever. All right, enjoy the club. Good luck, try not to eat too many humans, Iz.” Puck cackled at the use of Alex’s nickname for him before disappearing in a blink.

“I hate him.” Izael grimaced.

“I know. But he’s being helpful. He’s doing his best.” She hugged his arm tighter, smiling at him, trying to cheer him up. “I’m glad he’s on our side.”

“Having that thing on your side always means that there’s something terrible about to happen.” Izael huffed. “Usually, I enjoy the attention. But this time, I think I would prefer to be less interesting.”

“You ‘n me both. I guess this is what I get for wanting to be important.” She sighed. “Enough moping. C’mon. You wanted to go out? Let’s go out. I think I’d like to get a little drunk tonight.”

With a grin, he couldn’t help but crack a joke. She’d left the door wide open for him. “Your wish is my command.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Alex wasn’t quite sure what to do with the fact that everyone was staring at her. Okay, fine—she was dressed up like Morticia Addams updated her wardrobe. To the 1940s. She understood why people were gawking a bit at the two of them.

But she tried her best to pretend they were all staring at Izael, instead. She would be right with them if things had panned out differently. Hell, she found herself staring, and they were sleeping together. It was damn hard not to appreciate the view, however. His tall frame with the perfectly tailored and eccentric suit that looked like someone dropped acid before reading through an old Sears catalogue. He was all shades of black and teal to go with his hair. At least his eyes weren’t glowing, though they were still slitted like a snake’s.

At least everyone would assume they were contacts.

He walked into the place like he owned it, holding her hand and pulling her along behind him. Like a fish in water, he was perfectly in his element. Gods, he was beautiful. But just like the animal he shared so many traits with, he was also clearly dangerous. Marked in bright colors and flashy designs to warn predators that he was deadly.

And to attract mates.

Rolling her eyes at herself, she let him pull her toward the bar. And for the next few hours, they drank, they laughed, they danced—they had fun. More fun than she could remember having in a very, very long time.

She was happy.

Really, honestly happy.

When was the last time that had been true? When she was a kid? A college student full of hopes and dreams? Sure, she had moments of happiness. Of contentment. Times where it didn’t all feel pointless and empty. But not like this. This was different. This was deeper.

She was sitting at their booth by the back wall, tucked under Izael’s arm and resting against his side as she nursed her drink—something called a Remember the Maine. Izael kept ordering things from the bartender that made the poor man pull out his phone to search for the recipes.

It was then that Izael put in front of her an ultimatum. “Fourth drink or sing.”

Letting out a breath, she looked up to the stage. The band was doing well that night—she knew from experience there wasn’t a lot of work available in Boston doing what they did, and especially not in the “vintage jazz” scene. They all seemed to be having a blast. It did look like fun. It almost made her miss her college years.

Almost.

A fourth drink was dangerous. She was already fluffy after three, and a fourth at that point would put her way too close to being drunk for her comfort level. It just wasn’t something she enjoyed.

“You did promise me.” Izael kissed her temple.

“Yeah, but I got out of that one, remember?”