Heart and Soul by Jackie May (reading list .TXT) 📗

The troll throws his hands up. “You tell me. Would the four of you like it for here or to go?”

Jay answers by peeling his ripped T-shirt over his head and using it to mop up the blood he spit on the floor. It’s an impressive gesture that not only ingratiates himself with Terrance but shows off Jay’s shirtless hard body at the same time. Granted, his entire torso is covered in blood, bruises, cuts, and burns, but for some in this crowd, that only makes him more mouthwatering. One demon whom I know to be a glutton for punishment literally licks his lips.

The music starts up again. The crowd moves on. Terrance wags a finger at me—a last warning—and leads his bouncers away. The younger wolves are confused. “Wait,” one of them says, “are we really going to drink with this guy?”

“He called us jagoffs,” the other whines.

“Because you are jagoffs. Now shut your faces,” the older wolf growls. He and Jay share a look of mutual respect. Not friends, by any means, but no longer enemies. For tonight, anyway.

I squeeze Elle’s hand. “Oh my gosh!”

“What in the world just happened, Shayne? I don’t speak wolf.”

“Respect. That’s what just happened.”

“But they were bashing each other in the face two seconds ago.”

“Exactly! And now they’re not. Look, your people go to balls and have the butler announce your full name and title as you walk in; my people get drunk and knock their skulls together. Same difference.”

“Oh! This was his debut into society?”

“The first of any human that I know of. He’s an absolute dream!”

“He’s an absolute mess.”

As soon as the wolves are out of sight, Jay sags against me. “Hold me up. The room is spinning, all my teeth hurt. I think my joint’s dislocated.”

“Which one?”

“All of them.”

“Let’s get you to the bar, hotshot. One sip of some of these drinks will—”

“No!” He straightens, taking a deep breath, summoning a reserve of strength. “No, nothing addictive. You’re the only habit I can take, Shayne, and I’m not even sure I’ll survive that.”

Elle gawks at me. I wink at her. “You got it, babe. Anything for the biggest swinging dick in the club.”

Elle claps her hands with a deranged smile. “Actually, we’ll just have to see about that. Ladies and gentleman, the silver fox has arrived.”

We rush outside just as the long, winding front line turns in unison to the sound of bass so heavy it causes snow to fall from the roof. The drop-dead badass beat grows louder with the approach of headlights speeding straight for the front line. Two bodyguards step to the curb, hands on their swords, ready to repel the vehicle should it refuse to stop. The high beams swerve, revealing a massive Rolls Royce SUV, the epitome of both power and sophistication. It slides sideways on the icy road, gliding silently like a hockey puck for thirty yards before coming to a gentle stop exactly two inches from the curb. The rear passenger door opens, after which nobody appears to get out before it shuts again and the SUV drives away.

The crowd, silent with confusion, stares at the curb. The sentinels sheath their swords, baffled. In that still and silent split second, I hear a gleeful giggle from Elle, and then the night air is split with a bright blue bolt of lightning. The sentinels are blasted off their feet, and every skirt in the crowd is blown up like Marilyn Monroe’s. With the blue flash comes a boom of thunder, which is actually the return of the killer beat, now louder than ever, heralding the new arrival.

Russo.

He stands tall and proud on the blackened sidewalk where the lightning struck. His black hair is styled into a Clark Kent curl on his forehead. His muscles bulge beneath a tailored dinner jacket that seems to sparkle. His grin is both playful and arrogant. His command of the crowd’s attention is absolute, which is good, because nobody sees Elle hopping with delight by my side.

“Look at him, Shayne! Didn’t I tell you?”

“I’m looking. What now? He’s not doing anything. Why’s he not doing anything?”

“Give it a second, will ya? He’s more than willing, but recognizing my commands takes a little getting used to, especially for a human.” She wiggles the fingers of her right hand. “C’mon, silver fox. You feel that?”

Russo glances down at his right hand and smiles.

“That’s it, big boy. Listen to me. Feel me all over you. Let me in, I don’t bite.”

“Are you trying to get into his mind or his pants?”

“Both, actually. I need all of him. Full command.”

I see the moment it clicks in Russo’s eyes. He raises his right hand with a flourish of fingers, and a curtain of blue sparkles surges up from the ground, splitting the line in two. With a twist of his wrist, the curtain of magic parts down the middle and spreads out, forcing the crowd back, making a wide lane directly into the club. Oohs and aahs fill the crowd as he passes through.

Elle is literally squealing with glee. “We’re linked, Shayne. He and I are so getting it on right now in front of your eyes. Oh,” she coos, “who’s the professor now? You’re a good little student, aren’t you? Yes, you are.”

Spotting Elle in the crowd, Russo makes a gun with his fingers, and I shit you not, a real gunshot sound makes the crowd jump with delight. “Elle, let’s maybe not be so totally obvious. Control yourself.”

“It’s not me, Shayne. I mean, the magic is mine, but it’s not about control. I can’t just work him like a puppet. I can only suggest thoughts to him, you know, gentle persuasions. But the bottom line is always his own will.”

“Wait, are you telling me he’s still him, but with access to your practically unlimited power? Elle!”

“Don’t worry, we both have to be in harmony. He can’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Not helpful! There’s literally nothing you wouldn’t do