A Werewolf, A Vampire, and A Fae Walk Into A Bar (Book 1 of The Last Witch Series) novel Chapter 23

“Cool story, bro.”

It’s the answer I would have given, but it actually comes from AJ, standing in the

doorway, having returned from whatever errand took her away in the dead of night.

“Unicorn blood?” She chuckles. “Yeah, sure, I’ll just swing by my uncle’s ranch and grab a vile.”

Darius studies AJ seriously, as is his way. It’s hard to tell if he’s annoyed by her sarcasm or wondering--

“Who is your uncle? What’s his family line?”

Yep. Wondering if her uncle really has a freaking unicorn.

AJ walks into the kitchen, laughing to herself, and pulls a beer from the fridge. Apparently grandpa didn’t finish all his Budweiser before he passed. Jesus, have I not cleaned out the fridge since I moved home?

“My uncle doesn’t have a unicorn, numbnuts,” she responds, leaning against the counter and popping the bottle cap off with a lighter.

Darius bolts to his feet, fast enough to startle even his magical buddies.

“Watch yourself, nymph,” he hisses, teeth bared. “Your powers are few and the stakes are higher than you can fathom. Cross me any further and you’ll see--”

Rune grabs Darius by the elbow, and it looks like those fae calming powers have at least some effect on vampires. Darius takes a deep breath and then slowly moves back into his seat, like a predator biding his time.

AJ looks between the two for a second, then laughs. She smells a little boozy. I’m starting to think her errand was a stupid one.

“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, trying to get the conversation back on track. “One of you goes to your world and comes back with some blood?”

“We can’t return until the message has been received,” Zev says, shaking his head. “For any of us to show up without the child and no prior notification would send the kingdom into a panic.”

“Really?” I ask. “Even if you told people, er, your kind, that you were coming right back to protect the baby?”

Now all three of them shake their heads, solemn looks on their faces. I’ll never be able to empathize with the severity of their situations, since I’m the mom of the baby they want to steal, but a small part of my brain recognizes the gravity of what they’re dealing with.

“Okay, three things need to happen,” I say as I turn toward the fridge, lost in thought and also immediately ravenous. I’ve been working too hard, sleeping too little, and acting as a full-time milk generator for a hungry newborn. I need to eat my bodyweight in carbs.