Demon and the Mage (Jeongcheol)

Seungcheol

I made it a whole week before Jeonghan showed up in my life again.

The sight of my car parked outside the club had me freezing in the middle of the street. There wasn't a mark on her. If anything, she was gleaming like she'd been recently washed and waxed.

Honestly, part of me suspected I'd never see Jeonghan again. That he'd taken my words to heart and travelled off to some far-flung land, never to think of me. That's what I told myself I wanted. To forget we'd ever met. To continue living life like he hadn't turned it upside down like the cocky, smirking disaster he was.

The fact it'd been seven whole days since I'd seen him had nothing to do with the foul mood I'd been in since returning from Scotland. Nothing. At. All.

My reaction to the car and believing Jeonghan was inside the club revealed how much I'd been lying to myself. My heart began racing at the mere prospect of seeing the little brat's grinning face again.

But when I tore inside, those hopes were dashed. Toby whistled to get my attention, chucking my car keys at me.

I caught them easily, staring at them numbly as I realised what they meant. Jeonghan had been here but hadn't hung around to see me.

Which was fine. Great even. Exactly what I wanted.

I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Did he say anything?"

"Who?" Toby asked, not turning around from where he was stacking glasses.

"The guy who dropped these off. Did he leave a message or anything?"

"Oh, you mean the mage?"

"He didn't have his glamour in place then." That made sense. There was no point in him pretending to be human now.

Toby snorted as he stacked the final glass. "No, not that that made the blindest bit of difference the first time around."

I did a double-take. "What? You knew he was a mage and didn't think to say anything?"

Toby smirked. "Where would be the fun in that?"

"You know what, I spend a few decades thinking you're okay for a vamp, then you pull shit like this, and I remember you're really a complete wanker."

"Hey!" Toby protested. "I did warn him not to fuck with you. Gave him several very detailed threats about what I'd do if he hurt you."

A growl slipped from my lips. "Touch him and die."

Toby's hand froze from where he'd been about to grab a new bottle of vodka. "Ooh. So he did fuck with you then...but in the fun way, not the kind where I need to kick his arse?"

"Nothing like that happened."

"Mm-hmm," he replied, leaning his weight on his forearms as he stared over the bar at me in bemusement. "If you didn't fuck him, then maybe you won't mind if I give him a call."

My hand was around his throat before I even realised. Dragging him over the bar, I hissed in his face. "You'll do no such thing. Touch him, in any way, and I'll end you. Painfully. Slowly. In a way you can't recover from."

Even with my grip crushing his airway, Toby's eyes lit up. "Ooh. This is juicier than I thought. What's going on?"

I snarled before dropping him. "Nothing."

"Wanna try that again?" Toby's eyes flashed with amusement. "Don't forget I've known you for over three hundred years. You can't lie to me."

I slumped onto a stool, covering my eyes with my hand. The words flooded came out of me. "He's-my-mate."