Blackbirds & Bourbon by Heather R. Blair Read Free Book Online Page B

fucking me here every time I stand behind this bar? Whatever this is between us, it will come to a bad end and pretending otherwise will only get me hurt.
    I don’t believe in fairy tales anymore.
    When I pull back, his eyes lock on mine. “You’re scared of me.”
    “I’d be stupid not to be.”
    “You’re right,” Jack mutters, his voice strained, “but that doesn’t mean we have to stop, Seph.”
    I put my hand to his chest and push. “Yes. It does.”
    He lifts me down at once, but makes sure I slide down his body inch by inch, so I feel exactly what I’m missing. I bite down on a whimper. My only consolation is that he’s being tortured, too. The tissue-thin sweater and snug jeans I’m wearing make it hard to miss even one of my curves. When Jack pulls his hands from me, they’re shaking.
    “I need another drink.” He moves back around the bar to take a stool, scrubbing at his face.
    I raise an eyebrow, still on fire inside, but trying my best to play cool. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? “Who’s hitting the sauce hard now?”
    “You’re not the only one who had a rough week.”
    “Oh, really? Do tell.”
    “I’ve been with the Dark Council, trying to get them to rescind the bounty.”
    I fumble the bottle of Jim. Jack catches it neatly, pouring himself a double before setting it back on the bar, looking at me over the glass with a half-smile.
    “Have you now? Saving me a new hobby of yours?” My words are heavy on the sarcasm, but I can’t help the little skip my heart makes.
    His eyes flicker, then harden. “I’ve got my own agenda here, remember, princess?”
    Whose side are you on, Jack?
    My own.
    Yeah, I fucking remember. “Mind sharing?”
    He smiles again, but it’s a tight, hard smile. Then he looks away, “And ruin the surprise? I think not. “
    “What did they say?”
    “No.”
    I wait for more but he doesn’t elaborate. I watch Jack as he drinks, thinking back. This isn’t new, he’s always been a taciturn kind of guy. We spent a lot of our time together in silence, but it was a good kind of silence. My house has always been so full of noise; laughter, screaming, the cacophony of a home full of women. I loved the craziness, and I still do, but being around Jack was calming to my soul. I craved it, like I craved him in so many damn ways.
    Whatever’s in his eyes right now, though, isn’t calming at all. He looks worried, tired… almost drawn. Like a man with something riding him.
    He’s in trouble, Persephone.
    Rochie’s words. Jack’s annoying fairy best friend. Words I haven’t forgotten. They’ve been twisting in my head with all the other loose threads I’m constantly trying to weave together. Could this be what she meant?
    Is Jack in trouble because of me?
    No way.
    “Jack—”
    Just then the lights dim, giving a few weak pulses before going out altogether. I’ve totally forgotten about the storm raging outside. We wait in the blackness for the generator to kick on.
    And wait.
    “Well, shit.”
    Out of the dark, Jack’s answering laugh makes me shiver.
    One thing about being a witch, you’re never caught without a light. Minutes later, I carry a ball of pretty orange flames in my palm as Jack and I descend down the stairs to the basement so recently used as Tyr’s magical jail cell. My generator is out cold. Even after a few encouraging prods with magic nothing happens.
    I kick the damn thing in frustration. Jack laughs again and I curse, but there’s really nothing to be done. Such is Duluth in winter.
    In the end, we go back upstairs. Jack lays a layer of ice over the food in the freezer at my request, then we’re left staring at each other in the hallway next to my office. His lips twitch in the soft, flickering glow of my conjured light. 
    “You’re thinking of kicking me out into the snow, aren’t you?”
    “You love the snow.” At his raised eyebrow, I give in. “Fine. We’ll crash in my office. You on the couch, me in my