The Runaways: Book 1 of the The White Goddess Series

22. Ganbei

Even for King this was bad.

Boone hid his expression in a long swallow of beer. King was stoic by nature but how did you look that bored while you were getting blown? By the way the female's dyed blonde head was turning and bobbing in his lap, she was doing a decent enough job but by the look on his face, King could be watching someone bleed to death or listening to his voice mails right now.

After a year of planning and negotiations with human government officials and investors, they'd finally gotten the green light for the Colorado Springs casino, but King was in no mood to celebrate. He never was anymore. 

"What is it?" Boone grunted at the tray of colourless shots presented by a human female in what looked like a child-sized French Maid costume. His eyes moved appreciatively over her barely-contained tits and ass.

"Jägermeister," their host informed Boone with an encouraging nod. Jeff Huang's grinning face was flushed from booze and who knows what else. "Lucifer?" he prompted as the French Maid turned to King with the tray. "Guess he's too busy," Huang laughed when King flicked a glance at the tray, then looked away. 

Too fucking morose to toast his own success, Boone silently grumbled as King's human partner launched into a rambling tribute to the future King Jade Casino and Hotel. That February night on the Church lawn had done a real number on King. 'Shit show' didn't even begin to describe it. Or the months that followed.

While Huang was busy doing the legwork for the casino project, the Rogue King—with Boone in tow as always—had spent the past six months crisscrossing the Western Empire, settling down the communities who had lost their leaders and reasserting King's dominance over the spooked population of rogues.

They'd succeeded for the most part but it was an embarrassing loss for King in every sense of the word. Their vague statement about unspecified enemies kidnapping King's equally mysterious bride didn't help. Rumours filled in the blanks that they wouldn't.

One rumour had the Western High Priestess using witchcraft to sabotage King's wedding in a jealous fit after he'd broken off their fictional affair.  Another featured King's bride as a Ministry of Intelligence plant, and the wedding a ruse to get King, Boone, and his top rogue leaders all in one place so they could take them out. Mission at least partially accomplished. 

It grated on King that anyone thought he would fall for a honey trap, or that he would stick his dick in anything as disgusting as a witch, no matter how beautiful she might appear at the time. King might have re-established his dominance among his followers, but the loss of face grated on his classic narcissist's ego. Which in turn made King even touchier and more volatile than ever.

On the upside, Boone healed quickly and his reflexes had never been sharper.

"Ganbei!" Huang proclaimed unintelligibly before downing his shot.

Boone followed suit and replaced the empty glass on the French Maid's tray. Looking back, it was easy to see where they went wrong. And by 'they', Boone meant King, because Boone had nothing to do with any of it. Not the wedding (a terrible idea), not leaving it to Macklin to talk to Serafina (also a terrible idea), and not the plan to separate her from her Guardian right off the bat (the worst idea of all).

Oh, Boone had told him not to. More than once, and lost more than a few pints of blood for his trouble. But like everything else related to Serafina, King operated on an entirely different system of logic.

What King should have done was show up at the Church, no notice, no nothing, and taken Serafina and her Guardian back to Garnet Range. Installed her in the mansion, the shifter in the barracks, and then slowly kept them busier and busier until they naturally drifted apart, King slowly but steadily replacing him in Serafina's life all the while. That's how you separated a blood-bonded pair.