Page 77 of Fangbanger

Marcus snarls, and I laugh as Dean quickly lets me go.

“Drinks on me,” he shouts, as he walks backward, hands raised in the air. “Double for you vampire, since you’re my number one buyer at the moment.”

Marcus looks mollified at that. He is constantly reinforcing the house, preparing for some future battle. I don’t mind indulging him as long as he leaves my garden alone.

Marcus’s siblings are here—Teddy and Isabella, each watching with small smiles. The first time we met, there were stakes drawn and fangs flashed, but now, I let them stay with us when they visit. They have lightproof rooms in the guest bedrooms. Julian…not so much. He’s alive. For now.

Karina woops and heads toward the bar. “Moonshine for everyone,” she shouts. “Dean is buying.”

I shake my head, but I smile at Marcus. My best friend presided over our small ceremony in the woods and we owe her a round.

“Just one,” I say.

His eyes glint. “Maybe more than one. And then I drink you later.”

I grin up at him, and the bar starts cheering.

“A dance,” someone shouts.

The bartender puts on a slow dance, a classic rock version, and Marcus’s arm snakes around my waist. He tugs me closer until my hand is on his chest and his cheek is against my temple. We sway.

“Not bad for a vampire,” I say softly. I know he hears me.

He chuckles, before he twirls me, a fast, pulse-pounding motion that makes me dizzy, before he catches me against his chest.

“Not fair,” I gasp.

His eyes are silvered and bright. “Not bad for a slayer,” he murmurs, before he kisses me.

Cheers start, and a few wolf-whistles, probably from actual wolves.

Marcus growls in my ear. “They tempt death.”

I laugh and start leading him toward the biggest booth in the back. It’s decorated with flowers and a pitcher of alcohol-laden blood. He tenses as friends reach out to touch our arms and lift their glasses. Some of the weres compliment my dress with wags of their brows that make Marcus snarl.

“Relax, vampire.” I shoot him a smile. “You’re the one who picked the dress.”

“The dress is for me. The cutouts are for my tongue and my fangs. No other male’s.”

There’s a low rumble in his chest as we reach our table. I reach up to press a kiss to his jaw, and he looks away from where he’s intimidating a were with his gaze.

“We’ll go home soon,” I tell him.

“How soon?” he growls. “I want to fuck my mate under the light of the full moon.”

Several weres overhear and start laughing. Marcus seems pleased that his claim is so clear, but my face heats.

“Marcus.”

He’s grinning now. “I should bite you right here, mate, for making me wait.”

Shivers race up my spine. “Violence is prohibited in Good Intentions.”

“It’s not violence if you beg,” he croons.

“Would I beg? I don’t think so.”

“You begged last night,” he says hotly. His eyes glint. “Marcus, please. I’ll do anything you ask.”