After a day spent watching the Emerald house—do nothing—Babette declared they needed to do something fun.

Elspeth suggested a movie. Babette dragged her to a tavern instead.

“This place is awfully tame,” Babsy complained, giving the bar a side-eye. “Where’s the mechanical bull? Or the cage dancers? Heck, there’s not even a dance floor.”

“Use your imagination,” Elspeth prompted. “If you feel a need to kick up your heels, there’s always the tables or the bartop.”

“True.” Babette eyed the scarred, wooden surfaces. “And now that we’re here, I’ll bet we can liven things up.”

“That’s the spirit,” Elspeth exclaimed. “Look for the positive in every situation.”

“More like get drunk until you don’t care. Speaking of which, I need something in a frosted mug. What do you want?”

“Water, please,” Elspeth said.

“Water?” Babs sounded aghast. “This is a bar, not a gym. Screw that healthy shit.”

“I don’t drink alcohol. It doesn’t agree with me.”

“Then how about a soda?”

Elspeth shook her head. “I can’t ingest caffeine, either. I get hyper.”

“You mean this is you au naturel?” Babette’s mouth rounded. “Shit. That’s scary. I’ll be back. I need a drink because I, for one, am not allergic and could use one.”

Off stomped her best friend, not pleased by the fact that the Emeralds weren’t answering her calls for further discussion. Babette kept railing that there was something fishy about Joanna’s explanation. Given her BFF’s preoccupation with the Emeralds, Elspeth never had a chance to detail her encounter with the handsome man the day before.

A man who smelled yummy and different. Not human. Not shifter. Or dragon. Like nothing she’d ever encountered. And his eyes…they reminded her of her dreams.

A shame he was already in a committed relationship. He’d managed to pique her interest.

Since their meeting, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. Remembering his electric presence. His short, dark hair. His stern expression that begged for her to do something, anything, to make those lips curve into a smile.

She wasn’t kidding when she’d told him he smelled good enough to lick. And eat. And…

Thinking of him again was probably what triggered the memory of his smell. Cinnamon spice. All that was nice.

“You!”

Why, she even heard his voice.

“What are you doing here?” he barked before coming into view.

A bright smile burst forth. “Well, hello again.”

“Are you following me?” he asked.

She blinked. “I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean you don’t think so? Are you, or aren’t you?”

“Well, I wasn’t consciously planning to follow you, and yet, I have found my thoughts consumed by my recollection of our meeting. Therefore, it is possible on some subliminal level that my spirit, drawn to you, managed to decipher via the esoteric waves of fate where you would be and arranged for me to arrive before you.”

He blinked. Long, dark lashes over those vivid eyes. “You are insane.”

“Not according to my doctors.” But she did hear that a lot. Mother claimed it was because her mind worked on a different level than everyone else’s.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said, leaning in, bringing his mouthwatering scent close.

“What am I doing?” Because she hadn’t the slightest clue. Good thing he knew, though. One of them should understand what was happening.

“You’re trying to disarm me with your sexual appeal. Obviously, your words are some kind of spell meant to bedazzle me.”

“They are?” Wow, she’d never known she had that ability. Weird visions. Freakish strength. Optimism. And now, a power to mesmerize handsome men. Or at least one man.

“Your magic spell won’t work. I am telling you right now that my attraction to you will never come to fruition. I am strong enough to resist.”

“I should hope you resist. Think of Alfred.” It was what she did to prevent her hands from grabbing him and groping him inappropriately.

“Furthermore, you can tell your dragon superiors that I won’t be easy to beat. I will have my revenge.”

“Oooh. A vendetta. How awesome. Tell me more.” She cupped her chin in her hands and prepared to listen intently.

He pulled away. “I am not revealing the details of my plan. Suffice it to say, it will be devious, and bloody.”

“Sounds like fun. When does it start?”

His lips flattened. “I’ve already said too much. Stop following me.” He turned, presenting a delicious view of his glutes as he strutted away, shouting, “Barkeep, a mug of your finest ale.”

Babette chose that moment to return, sliding a glass with a lemon wedge and fizzing clear liquid at her. Her bestie had chosen a large tankard of a rather foul-looking beer with a thick froth on top as her beverage of choice.

Elspeth eyed her glass. “This isn’t water.”

“It’s tonic water. The fancy version.”

“I should probably stick to the regular kind.”

“Okay.” Babette’s lower lip jutted. “I guess I’m a shitty friend for not listening.”

“I’m being so ungrateful. I’m sorry. This is fine.” Contrition had Elspeth taking a big swallow, the fizzing liquid a touch bitter, but she downed half the glass and smiled.

Babette returned her grin before sipping her beverage of choice. “I gotta ask, where did you find that dress?”

“Custom-made, actually.” Given her general height proved a disadvantage for off-the-rack shopping, Elspeth engaged the services of a seamstress for her fancier attire. The one she sported was a crisp white covered in glossy cherries, the collar hemmed in lace. The sleeves were tight, as was the waist before it belled into a pleated skirt that swung if she twirled.

“It would be killer if you wore it with stiletto heels.”

“Sharp spikes and I don’t get along.” Not to mention at over six feet already, adding a few more inches tended to intimidate people.

“See any prospects worthy of getting under your skirt?” Babette asked, glancing at the crowd inside the bar.

Just one. “There is a guy.”

“Really?” Babette rounded on her with rounded eyes. “What guy?”

“The yummy-smelling one I met yesterday.”

“You met a guy? When? How?” Babsy hammered.

“Last night at his house.”

“Please do not tell me you went to a strange guy’s house alone without telling anyone.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, what?”

“I won’t tell you.”

Babette blinked. “You went, didn’t you?”

Elspeth nodded.

“Did you blow him?”

“Babsy!” Her cheeks heated.

“No head? Can’t blame you. I’m a pie girl myself. Did you do the horizontal tango? Or is he a shifter into the doggy style?”

While Elspeth was a rather open person, reminding her of some of the fantasies she’d entertained about Alfred’s master did make her squirm. Elspeth gulped more of her drink. It heated her from the inside out.

“You’re not answering. Holy shit, you did do him?”

“No. Of course, not.” Although she’d wanted to kiss him. Did that count? “He’s already involved with someone.”

“I’m gonna wager you can take her.”

“You mean him. He’s with a lovely older gent named Alfred.”

“An old dude, eh? Probably wouldn’t take much to get his ticker to explode. I can help if you want.” Babsy took a large sip of her beer and licked the foam from her upper lip.

The fact that Babette wanted to help murder Alfred to clear the way warmed Elspeth’s heart. “No need to remove anyone. Although I am really beginning to wonder about their relationship.” She pointed her chin in his direction where he sat at the bar. “He’s here.”

“Which one is it?”

“The good-looking one. With the dark hair.” Who’d just dragged a woman onto his lap. Elspeth’s nails raked the tabletop.

“Well, well, looks like someone is a bit of a gigolo when his old man isn’t around.”

For some reason, this disappointed Elspeth. Whatever happened to true love and commitment? No wonder she was having such a hard time finding The One.

But she wouldn’t give up. She finished off her fancy water, and Babsy lifted her hand. A moment later, another glass found its way in front of Elspeth. She took a long draw via the straw as she glared in his direction.

She didn’t even know his name. Probably because he was rude. He’d not introduced himself the day before. Or tonight. The rude jerk gallivanted about town, flirting with a lady while poor Alfred… She didn’t know where Alfred was, but he surely wouldn’t condone this behavior.

A good thing Alfred had Elspeth to champion him. She would give his master a piece of her mind. Really, cheating on dear, sweet Alfred like that. She took a long sip before getting up from the table.

“Where are you going?” Babsy asked.

“To talk to him.”

“Good luck cock-blocking.”

Moving closer, even with the music, she could hear the woman giggling. “You’re funny.”

“It was not my intention to be comical. My motive is purely sexual. I bought you a beverage. Indicated you are acceptably attractive. Shall we adjourn to somewhere more private so that I might perform coitus with you?”

Elspeth was shocked. More than shocked. Marching over, she stated, loudly enough for the human to hear, “Get away from him. He’s practically a married man. And judging by the ring on your finger, you’re also unavailable. You should both be ashamed.” Elspeth wagged her finger at the pair.

The handsome devil scowled, making him more good-looking, whereas the woman on his lap frowned. “Who the fuck are you?”

“His conscience.” Elspeth held herself tall.

“Nobody,” was his reply.

The brunette sneered. “Why don’t you fuck off, slut. This bloke is mine.”

The woman turned her head to plaster her mouth to his, leaving Elspeth to gape.

Poor Alfred. Surely, chagrin at how the man was being treated was why she felt such rage.

Rage?

Oh, dear. Find your happy place. She tried. She truly did. However, that woman, that hussy, kept touching him.

Elspeth couldn’t find a positive spin. Molten rage bubbled within, melting the effects of her pills and demanding an outlet. The hair-sprayed brown mess in front of her provided an outlet.

Before she knew it, Elspeth had her fingers wrapped in it, and she’d yanked the woman off his lap.

“What part of he’s taken did you not grasp?” Elspeth grumbled as she dragged the screeching woman across the room.

Rip. Left with a handful of hair, she paused and turned to see the woman clutching at her much shorter style.

“Why, you fucking bitch. Do you have any idea what that weave cost me?”

“I’d be more concerned about the cost of your self-respect. And what of your marriage? Does no one honor their vows?” Elspeth asked aloud, raising her gaze heavenward. Except the answer wasn’t to be found in the wood-paneled ceiling.

The cheating Jezebel took that moment to barrel into her, hitting Elspeth in the midsection and driving her into the bar.

Someone—known as Babette—began chanting. “Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight.”

How bloodthirsty, when all Elspeth wanted was for the handsome stranger and this woman to have some respect for their partners. Or, at the very least, if he must kiss someone, he could have kissed me.

But, no. He’d chosen the woman swinging at her.

Annoying twat.

Elspeth caught the Jezebel’s fist and held it. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

“Or what?” snarled the other woman. She swung her other fist. Elspeth dodged it and then snapped one of her own out.

Crack. The woman dropped to the floor.

Damned humans and their soft heads.

A male voice from behind exclaimed, “Hey now, no fighting in my bar.”

A meaty hand grabbed her by the arm, and Babsy yelled, “Don’t you touch her, buddy.” Then proceeded to jump on his back.

Given the bartender was at least a foot and a half taller than Babsy—in her human shape—she didn’t quite manage to take him down.

The bartender whirled, which was kind of comical, given Babsy clung monkey-tight to him. Having ended up by her table again, Elspeth grabbed her glass and drained it.

Funny how the water warmed her belly. It didn’t usually do that.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned with a bright smile. “Yes?”

“You hit our friend.” A gaggle of women with too much makeup confronted her.

“Your friend is a whore.” Elspeth only told them what they probably already knew, and yet the supposed friends took offense. They rushed Elspeth, who giggled as she said, “Bar fight!” She already knew how this would end.

It didn’t stop her from enjoying herself.

When one of the women lunged, she snared her and launched her over the counter. Then she lifted another and tossed her into a third. Exhilaration warmed her blood. No wonder people like sparring.

She wanted more. Elspeth looked around and clapped her hands. “Oh, come on, everyone. Don’t be shy!”

When no one came to fight, she stalked over to the yelling bartender and punched him in the face.

He dropped, and Babsy leapt off before he crashed.

“Ah, man, did you have to do that? I was about to beat my bucking human record,” Babsy pouted.

Crack. The sound of a bat getting slammed on the bartop drew attention. A new man had appeared behind the bar and pointed his bat. “Get the fuck out of my bar, you lunatics.”

“A weapon isn’t very sporting,” Elspeth remarked. “Let me help you with that.”

Leaning over, she snatched the weapon and brought it down over her upraised thigh. It didn’t break, but it did bend.

She handed it back. “There you go. Now that you can’t cheat, shall we dance?” She beckoned with her fingers. “Although, before we do, mind giving me another glass of that fancy water?”

“That wasn’t entirely water,” Babs muttered. “It might have had some vodka in it.”

“You gave me alcohol.” Elspeth’s eyes widened. “Oh, dear. That explains a lot. You might want to clear the place.”

“Why?”

“Because—” Elspeth might have said more except she caught a glimpse of him. He of the gorgeous blue eyes.

My eyes.

And the whore was back touching him. Clinging to his arm. Whining that she needed rescue.

“Get your hands off him!” Elspeth roared.

She blinked as she charged. The blood pumping hard. Her control slipping…

And found herself hanging over someone’s back, the smell of smoke in her nostrils.

“Wh-wha-at h-h-appened?” she slurred.

“You destroyed the bar.”

Shit. Not again. Mother would freak.

“What are you doing?”

“Carrying you.”

“Put me down.” She wouldn’t want him to hurt himself.

“When I’m done with you. Go back to sleep.” He snapped his fingers and whispered a word she didn’t understand.

Zzzzzz.