MARBLE & SALT (Lesbian)

Chapter 12 (Part 3) WHO'S YOUR DADDY?

"Having fun, uh?" asks the witch, looking attentively at the man who is peacefully and with pleasure drinking whiskey in the darkest corner of the bar. His chiseled features immediately relax into a tender smile when he looks at the witch.

"I'm glad to see you!" The man tries to get up from the table to greet Hebe like a gentleman, but she stops him with an imperious gesture. All her powerful and dominant gestures have to be tailor-made for her.

"What are you doing here?" She turns the chair and saddles it, putting her hands on its back and gazing intently at the stranger. "Why am I asking you anyway?" The witch grins at him and his beverage.

I don't know what to do. Maybe I should sit down at the table too or, better still, wait until the "adults" solve all their problems? But her problems are my problems now! And... ugh... I don't want her to talk to any man!

I've never been so jealous of anyone in my life before. Of course, I didn't tell her about it: I'm too ashamed of my insecurity. If she knows, she'll make fun of me, and then dump her human toy.

The man looks fifteen years older than the witch, but I could not exclude him from the race. Moreover, his insane resemblance to handsome Kidlat only adds fuel to the fire of my jealousy.

His black slanted eyes find my shyness. He smiles at me, and in his cheeky smile I notice something very familiar. Biting my lips surely isn't working for relaxation: I look as immature as usually.

"Come and sit down with us, baby! I don't bite! Come here, let's get to know each other," he smiles even wider.

"Stop playing Daddy of the Year. Peaches said you were looking for me." Hebe takes her whiskey and drains the glass in one gulp.

"How is mama doing?" He absently rubs his three-day beard. The man reminds me of a sexy loser hero in an action movie who desperately tries to get his beautiful ex wife back. Looking at everything in a satirical way, he's, of course, braving all difficulties, dangerous circumstances, and fighting evil bandits.

"She's having fun with her pet," Hebe responds without blinking.

"Baby, don't be shy," he says to me again, "Sit with us."

"Leave her alone; she isn't under the spell," Hebe snorts, "Velia," she gestures to a chair next to her, but I don't budge.

"I know she's not under the spell," the man snorts in the same way, wrinkling his nose just like Hebe. "I'm really happy for you two... Shall I order something to celebrate the meeting."

"Don't change the subject," the young woman interrupts him.

"As strict, beautiful, and businesslike as her mother," the man says with admiration, winking at me. "Take care of her," he tells me suddenly.

I nod modestly, staying motionless. Meanwhile, Hebe is examining him expectantly.

"Let me come right to the point. You are looking for the human who killed the Pythia," he does not ask but asserts.

"It looks that even you, maaaages, heard the news."

"You can't hide the log in your eye no matter how hard you, witches, try to hide it," the man laughs. Then he gets serious, "You must forget about him. Very powerful and dangerous people are involved."

"Who are powerful and dangerous? Your lousy terrorist mages mates? The mages who cannot calm down and accept the fact that all power is still in the hands of witches?"

"Hebe, your mother and I are not on the best terms, but..."

"Surely you are not: she prefers her hare," the witch laughs angrily; her eyes are getting dark. "If you don't have a lead on the killer, then I will go to Lada. There's something important I need to ask her."