He also pressed his now-swollen shaft into her belly.
“Because,” he whispered, watching her eyes widen, knowing he need say no more. “Now, go,” he ordered.
She studied his face for long moments before she nodded and said, “Okay, Yuri.”
As he loosened his arms, she pulled from them, and he felt a curious sensation of loss when she did. He ignored it and turned to watch her walk to the door.
When she had her hand on the knob, he called, “Aurora.”
She turned back to him, and finally, Yuri addressed the real reason she came to him.
“I die before you,” he vowed, but he wasn’t done. “And I do not die tonight.”
Her entire demeanor calmed right before his eyes, and as he watched it, he felt another curious sensation, this being an odd mixture of pleasure and relief.
He felt something else curious (and wonderful) when she replied, “Right back at you,” before she disappeared behind the door.
* * * * *
Thirty minutes later, Yuri walked into Aurora’s charming bungalow and stopped dead.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered at what he saw.
Primarily, Aurora standing amongst a bevy of women, and gone was the delightful chignon at the nape of her neck. Gone also were the lovely garments she’d been wearing.
In their place were black jeans, a black turtleneck, her hair shoved under a black knit cap, and she even had black smudges marring the rose and cream of her face.
Her witch sisters were similarly attired.
Yuri, too, had on much the same outfit—a black V-neck sweater and black slacks—however, he’d donned them that morning as a matter of course.
“Are we approaching a coven or a terrorist cell?” he drawled, shutting the door behind him.
Aurora giggled, a sound that had a pleasant effect in two very different places in his body.
“This operation is covert,” one of the witches hissed at him. Yuri vaguely recalled her name was Jane.
“Indeed,” he murmured but decided to say no more.
“Right, let’s start this,” another witch, named Jordana, stated and looked to Yuri. “Remember, we get the protections down before you approach. We may need your speed and strength and we don’t need you going up in a ball of flame before that.”
Yuri wholeheartedly agreed with any plan that included him not going up in a ball of flame.
“As we finalized plans not twenty-four hours ago, I do recall them,” he assured her.
She sniffed and did it with her eyes on him as if she smelled something foul and it was emanating from him.
He sighed, walked further in, and pinpointed Barb with his gaze.
It was time to share what he’d decided between Aurora’s visit to his suite and his arrival at the bungalow.
“Aurora stays with me and doesn’t approach until it’s safe.”
“Yuri!” Aurora cried.
“Agreed,” Barb stated over her daughter’s cry.
Aurora turned sharply to her mother. “Mom!”
Barb turned calm eyes to her daughter. “Leave this to your elders.”
“I’ve got juice,” Aurora snapped. “I can help. I want to help.”
Barb completely ignored her and looked to Yuri. “If something happens to me, you’ll see to her.”
Yuri gave one short nod. “Until she dies.”
Barb immediately looked relieved and this was an expression Yuri didn’t much care for considering it told the tale of how uncertain she was about the outcome of that evening’s events.
“Yuri,” Aurora whispered, taking his mind off Barb and onto her.
She didn’t look peeved anymore. Under her black smudges, her face was soft, and around the delicate makeup still adorning her eyes, her gaze was warm.
“It wouldn’t be a hardship, my sweet, considering I’m a billionaire.”
Those warm eyes got wide and her lips parted.
Taking her in…fuck.
He was looking forward to fucking her.
“Centuries and nothing changes. Put a vampire in close proximity to a comely witch, shit happens,” an elderly witch, her name Yuri believed was Ruby, muttered. “I just hope this isn’t the beginnings of history repeating itself.”
“Considering I have a few centuries on you and I was actually alive during said history, incidents my father kept me privy to while they were happening, I’ll share that the dispute began when a witch accrued a vast amount of debt, found herself in dire circumstances, and spelled her vampire lover to dispatch those who held her debts. Alas, one of those had a wife who was also a witch. She cast a different spell on the vampire and this unfathomably ended with five vampires being burned at the stake,” Yuri noted.
“One bad apple,” Ruby mumbled.
“In that story, there were two,” Yuri pointed out wryly. “However, upon hearing it, quite a number of other witches cast their lot, spelling their vampire lovers, or simply vampires they were aware of, to do their nefarious bidding, which saw one hundred and fifteen vampires burned or beheaded at the hands of witches and their partners.”
Ruby’s eyes narrowed on him. “And this excuses centuries of persecution?”
“Do not ever test a vampire,” Yuri whispered, and the room went still. “Your kind tested mine, exerting power over them, forcing vampires to bend to their will and do their bidding. Your ancestors knew that was playing with fire. They got burned. I disagree with how and just how long that fire raged. But it’s been centuries. Tonight, we have a common mission, therefore, at least for this evening, shall we call bygones?”