I instantly recognize the muscular male from Victor’s party. He wears expensive trousers and a tight button-down shirt, opened slightly at the base of his throat. It’s far more relaxed than the tuxedo he wore last time. With his artfully messy blonde hair and tanned skin, I can’t deny it suits him.
I look over his shoulders, searching for the two shifters who’d acted like his bodyguards the last I saw him. But the shifter is alone if you don’t count the arriving supernaturals. Most of whom are casting curious glances our way as they move to enter the museum.
“Your eyes are rather stunning.”
My attention snaps back to the werewolf, and the odd timing of the compliment doesn’t escape my notice.
“Thanks. They’re my mom’s.” I don’t know what possesses me to say the words, but I can’t take them back now.
“Indeed.” He breaks into a smile, and I see sharp canines. It’s funny… werewolves and vampires are more similar than they think. They’re both predators, designed to tear through flesh with relative ease, and both species sport out-of-this-world good looks. Thank goodness they’re regulated by the Shadowguard and from within their own communities. Otherwise, humans would make easy prey.
I take a breath and remind myself to keep my cool. I can’t even feel unease. As a shifter, he’ll be able to smell my emotions as easily as others can read them.
I adopt a bored expression and pretend to straighten out my gown’s skirt.
“What’s your name?”
“Aspen Van der Klay.” Everyone who was at Victor’s party or heard about it knows my true name. There’s no point in trying to conceal it now.
Which makes me believe he asked the question so it would make it easier for me to ask, “What’s yours?”
His smile grows. “Gage.”
“Gage,” I repeat, wracking my brain for any memory involving a shifter named Gage. Nothing comes to mind.
“You do not know of me?” His smile falters.
I shake my head. “Should I?”
As quickly as it disappears, his smile returns. “Ah, that’s right. I remember now. You’re an academy student. You’ve not been privileged enough to learn of me or my people in great detail.”
It’s a privilege to learn about lycans?
Aiming not to insult the massive man currently blocking me from reaching the gala, I dip my chin. “Yes. I’m a first year student at St. Michael’s.”
He whistles appreciatively. “St. Michael’s… that’s impressive. You must have notable connections.”
I tilt my head and give him a look.
The Van der Klay name is one of the more recognizable Guardian surnames in North America. I don’t delude myself into thinking I would’ve been admitted to St. Michael’s without it.
Either Gage and his shifter community aren’t in tune with the goings on of Shadowguard society, or they just don’t care. I’m not quite sure which is more likely.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who hasn’t been privileged enough to learn of me or my people.”
Gage tilts his head back and roars. The raucous laughter draws even more attention than before, and it takes everything within me to not try to escape the unexpected attention.
I look over the shifter’s shoulder and see Logan and Cortney lingering on the top landing, just before the entrance. My friend’s eyes are worried while my mentor’s are carefully empty. Seeing my attention, Logan gives me a stiff nod before he turns and leads Cortney into the museum.
That’s it.
I’m left on my own with a werewolf shifter—a breed renowned for their short tempers and territorial behavior.
Fabulous.
I wait for Gage to stop laughing.
Eventually, he does.
Wiping tears from his cheeks, he says, “My, you are delightfully humorous.”
“I’m glad I amuse you.”
His bright smile makes its reappearance. Extending an elbow, he asks, “It would be an honor to escort you into the gala, Miss Van der Klay.”
Since my mentor and friend have ditched me, I really don’t have a choice.
I slip my arm onto his.
With a swagger I can only describe as confident, Gage leads me into the Theodore Roosevelt Rotunda.
The grand entrance is stunning. Twinkling lights drip down from the vaulted ceiling, rising one hundred feet above historic murals depicting Roosevelt’s adventures.
Gage leads me past many dinosaur displays, not permitting me time to admire them before we arrive in a group of werewolves.
I take in the massive statures of the four male and three female lycans, all of whom stare at me like I’m an offending stain on their expensive garments.
“My liege,” one of the females begins. She wears a gold gown. Green gems drip from her neck and ears. She’s lovely. All of the werewolves are. “Why have you brought a Guardian into our midst?” She turns her nose up, finding me lacking.
I’m too focused on her greeting to be offended. “Liege?” I ask before thinking better of it.
Thankfully, Gage simply grins down at me, admiration in his gaze. That’s when I know more than my humor has attracted the lycan to me. I remember the wink he gave me at Victor’s party. I’d thought he was reacting to my stare, but maybe he finds me attractive.
That would be interesting, considering I look nothing like the lycan females. They’re all model-tall and thin, all while being some of the strongest beings in existence. In a fight, lycans are more formidable opponents when compared to vampires.
“I did say you haven’t had the honor of learning about my people.” Gage leans close until his lips are a breath away from my lips. “Care to change that?”
Confident, seductive Aspen practically preens with the challenge. “Please.” I murmur the word, pursing my lips enticingly as I do.
Heat ignites in Gage’s eyes. His gaze flickers between my mouth and eyes, unsure which calls to him more.
Damn. I’m pretty good at this.
Suspecting the werewolves will erupt if something as untoward as a kiss occurs between us, I take a subtle step back. “Well, care to fill me in?” I lessen the blow of my retreat with a flirtatious smirk.
Gage straightens, but the heat doesn’t fade from his expression.
A different werewolf speaks, “You are speaking with the Prince of the Lycans, heir to King Otis, Prince Gage of the Woodlands.” The shifter finishes with a deep bow. The other creatures follow suit. I’m the only one left standing, meeting Gage’s gaze with an unwavering one of my own.
I let my eyebrows lift in appropriate surprise. “Prince Gage?”
His shoulders roll back with pride. “Of the Woodlands,” he finishes his title, providing a flourished bow of his own, earning the shocked gasps of his fellow werewolves.
Their gasps intensify when he takes my hand, flips it over, and delivers a kiss to the inside of my wrist.
I, too, can’t help but suck in a breath at the over the top gesture. And the feel of his breath against my skin causes an involuntary shiver.
Which he totally notices, as proven by the smug glint in his golden gaze.
“Care to dance, Miss Van der Klay?” When he stands, there’s less space between us.
I spare a glance for his fellow werewolves. Their pursed lips and tight eyes scream disapproval.
But mission-Aspen doesn’t care.
“Of course.” I lean into Gage as he guides us out of the rotunda. We enter the Milstein Hall of Ocean Life. Blue and white ambiance lighting guides our path to the center of the space where a makeshift dance floor has been placed. Several couples are already gliding across the floor, glittering stunningly beneath the ninety-foot blue whale model floating above us.
Gage extends his arm, guiding me away before spinning me back into his arms. A string quartet plays a waltz. For the first time in my life, I’m grateful Vivian insisted I take dancing lessons. She’d said they might come in handy when on a mission for the Shadowguard, which is the onl
y reason I went along with it. Turns out, Vivian had been right.
Gage leads me across the floor, and I easily match each of his elegant steps. I consider searching the space for Logan and Cortney, but I quickly think better of it. Logan knew who he left me with. I have to believe he wouldn’t have done so if he thought I was in danger.
Besides, this could be an opportunity to make another ally. Werewolves are notoriously reclusive and avoid the Shadowguard at all costs. The fact I’m dancing with the prince of the Woodlands, which if my memory is right, stretches across all of the Eastern seaboard, is not something I can ignore.
So, I keep my attention on the impressive specimen in front of me and focus on maintaining my enticing persona.
“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a dancer,” I twirl under his arm and return to his hold. “But you’re quite good.”
“I could say the same of you, little Guardian.” He bends his neck to speak directly into my ear. If we were surrounded by humans, I’d say he did so to not be overheard. But in a room filled with vampires, werewolves, and God knows what else, the chance of us going unheard is unlikely. Not without a silencing barrier of some kind.
Ignoring the goosebumps puckering my skin, I reply, “Future Guardians are trained in many things.”
We brush by another couple, and I nearly stumble. I turn to apologize only to see the man and woman quickly scurrying away. Returning my attention to Gage, I catch the last remnant of his fear-inspiring glare before his features return to normal.
Gage resumes our conversation like nothing happened. “I’m aware most academy students receive well-rounded educations prior to enrolling. What I meant to say is: I’m surprised an orphan was afforded the same luxury.”
If I weren’t so focused and Gage wasn’t such a strong dance lead, I have no doubt I would’ve fallen on my face.
We continue to glide across the room, but my hackles are officially raised.
“I was taken in by a wealthy family.” I, too, can act like nothing has happened.
“Clearly.” His eyes travel the length of my beaded gown, lingering on the slit exposing my right leg. Heat flares to life in his gaze before simmering to a smolder. “How fortunate for you.”
I bite back a snarky retort. “Indeed.”
The song ends. I go to step away, but Gage has other ideas.
Without adjusting his hold, he leads me into another dance.
If I hadn’t been explicitly instructed to avoid causing a scene at all costs, this werewolf would’ve been gifted a black eye.
“You know, it’s considered impolite to force a lady into a dance,” I hiss between my teeth. The couple closest to us visibly start But, like the other couple, they hurry away rather than confront my dance partner.
“Oh, come on, Aspen. Are you really not going to ask me how I knew you were an orphan?”
Fat chance.
“No. My upbringing is not a secret. I don’t really care how you found out.” Thankfully, the lie rolls off my tongue without a single stutter.
In truth, I very much want to know how a werewolf who acted like he doesn’t even know who the Van der Klays are can know anything about my past.
“Ah.” He flashes an approving smile. “There it is. There’s the spirit I was looking for. For a second, I wondered if I was wrong about you.”
I barely have time to scowl before Gage picks up his pace and leads us in a short quickstep, ending with a flourished triple spin. My balance is off when he brings me back in, and I stumble into his chest. The scent of his cologne fills my nostrils. If I weren’t irritated, I might spare a second to revel in the pleasing aroma.
Gage beams down at me, tightening his grasp so I’m pressed even closer. He resumes dancing, pulling me with him.
“What are you talking about?” I whisper, all too aware of the scandalous sight we’re creating.
“Your eyes gave it away, but I must say your wit and spirit make it so obvious. It’s a wonder no one else here has made the connection.”
I ignore the odd compliments and his admiring gaze. Seriously, I’m starting to wonder if there’s something off about the prince of the Woodlands. Maybe the lycan community should consider selecting another heir to their king. Maybe Gage has brothers who can step into the role.
“What are you talking about?”
We stop dancing. Gage’s hand wraps around the base of my neck. Without a doubt, he can both feel and hear my heart race.
He leans down, bringing his lips dangerously close to mine.
So close, I hear the sound of several dancers hold their breath. I regret the enhanced hearing sigil. The confirmation that this moment is being watched by so many makes my heart beat even faster.
I watch Gage without moving an inch, waiting for him to tilt his chin to, once again, whisper in my ear.
But that moment never comes.
I’m frozen in place, and my eyes are wide when I see the truth in Gage’s gaze. He has every intention of kissing me, but there’s something else behind those golden irises as well.
The space between us disappears. His lips move, brushing against mine as he says, “You remind me of your mother.”
Then his lips press against me, robbing me of the chance to respond.
Chapter Thirteen
Shock ripples through me, igniting my nerve endings and making me tremble with disbelief. There’s no way I heard Gabe right. He can’t possibly know my mom’s identity. She was a Guardian. They don’t fraternize with lesser demons.
Right?
I’m unable to ask for an explanation.
Gage’s fingers are splayed across my lower back and in my hair, holding me against him as he ravishes me with his mouth.
If I’m being honest, it’s not the worst kiss I’ve ever had. That honor has to go to the original demon whose kind is determined to destroy the Guardian race by transforming all of us into demons. Even if I’m starting to think Belial isn’t all that bad…
But this kiss comes close.
Gage might be devastatingly handsome and mouthwateringly fit, but that doesn’t give him a right to go around and force women to kiss him.
Especially not after mentioning their dead mom!
I place my palms flat against his chest, gathering my strength to shove him when, all of a sudden, Gage’s body is ripped away.
My eyes hadn’t closed during the kiss, so I see the lycan’s massive form fly across the room, almost crashing into a one of the museum models depicting the planet’s ocean floor.
Victor, the leader of the New York coven, stands beside me. He straightens his tuxedo jacket, then turns to me with a welcoming smile. “Miss Van der Klay, hello.”
“Uh… hello, Victor.” I glance between the vampire and collapsed prince, watching as the latter is surrounded by werewolves who are frantically trying to ensure he’s unharmed.
“Let me apologize for the pup’s inappropriate behavior towards you. Prince Gage is young, and not often used to being denied a toy he desires.”
I’m at a total loss. Why would a vampire bother to apologize for a werewolf royal? And why would he intervene in the first place?
Relations between the two races are historically poor, and I’d imagine neither group wants it to get worse. But tossing a lycan prince definitely isn’t going to make them friends.
“That’s all right. Thank you for… interfering.”
“Anytime, my dear.” Victor takes my arm. “Now, come with me. I believe your friends are wondering where you are.”
I follow him without hesitation, but I can’t help but look back at Gage. He’s on his feet, which is a relief. What is not a relief is the crazed grin pulling his lips into a deranged-looking smile. He was just thrown across the room! What could he possibly have to smile about?
“Wait.”
I stop walking, pulling my arm free from Victor.
Across the space, Gage watches me. His eyes light up.
I feel the breath lodge in my chest. I don’t k
now what to think about his declaration or kiss, but I know I can’t walk away from him without answers.
I turn to Victor. “Is there a place we can talk?” I gesture between him, me and Gage, hoping he understands and succumbs to the pleading look in my eyes. I’ve lived too long without answers about my mom. I can’t let this chance slip through my fingers.
If Victor is surprised, he hides it well. “The curator’s office.” He begins to walk away. This time, he doesn’t grab my arm.
I glance back at Gage. He’s already striding across the room, ignoring the simpering murmurs and cautious touches of the werewolves fussing over him. He’s only got eyes for me, and what a pair of mischievous and hungry eyes they are.
Where in the heck are Logan and Cortney when I need them?
I spin around and hurry to catch up to Victor, lifting my skirt to avoid tripping on the expensive fabric. I trust Gage is not far behind.
The gala’s guests blatantly stare. I can’t blame them. We’d caused quite a scene. Logan is going to be furious when he finds out.
Victor glides down hallways with modest sea exhibits. We turn right, then left, and then the artifacts are no longer covering the walls. We’ve entered a hall of offices, and Victor guides us to the only one with an open door.
It dawns on me that I’ve just allowed myself to be isolated from the party with two of the most powerful lesser demons in existence. I didn’t need Instructor Jones to teach me that. Anyone with common sense would know a lycan prince and vampire coven leader are formidable creatures. And here I am, requesting to a private audience with them.
What the heck is wrong with me?
Too far to turn back now, I follow Victor into the office. Gage arrives a second later. Some of my unease fades when I see he doesn’t close the door behind him. It helps me feel like I haven’t just walked myself into a trap of my own making.
“So, Miss Van der Klay,” Victor begins in his smooth accent. “Care to explain your spontaneous request? Are you upset I ended that disgusting display before any gala guest considered taking a photo for blackmail?”
“Blackmail?” My mouth falls open.
The vampire’s cool eyes assess me. “A Guardian fraternizing with a lycan? How do you think the Shadowguard would react?”
Demon Marked: Shadowguard Academy Book 2 Page 11
