SUIT and FANGS

by Marian Tee

He turned around and immediately sucked his breath when he saw that I was only in my underwear. “Fuck.”

  Fuck indeed, I thought, a lump forming in my throat as I took in the full view of Luka in a suit and tie up close. No one – and I mean no one could do justice to a tux the way Luka did. He was elegance personified, the cold perfection of his beauty magnified like he had always been born wearing one. Ah God of Caros, with the way Luka looked tonight, I had no doubt every girl and woman would hate on me tonight.

  Another curse, from Luka, and I glanced up, startled.

  Turbulent violet eyes met mine. “Your nipples are standing,” he growled.

  I shivered, not surprised that the words had my nipples extending even more, the tips straining against the scant lacy cups of my bra.

  “They are, aren’t they? I think it’s because I’m gazing at a really gorgeous guy.”

  Luka glared at my response, but his anger only made me feel even more turned on. “Are you saying you are like this with other men?”

  I smiled sweetly. “Not just yet---ah!”

  Luka was suddenly on me, one hand gripping my hair in a firm possessive grip while his other hand traced my lips.

  I wanted to moan then and there, but pride made me swallow it back.

  “Don’t be like this with any other man, Caylie,” Luka gritted out.

  “Not now,” I agreed with a mocking smile. “But when we’re done indulging---” He growled, and the sound was so beautifully raw it was almost like a tangible caress.

  “I’m serious, mi vavli.” Luka’s icy tone was in direct contrast with the heat of his gaze, and my breath hitched when he retraced my lips, tempting me to taste it. “If I even catch you looking at any other man but me the wrong way---”

  The promise in his eyes had me wishing he could find a reason this moment to punish me. I almost said so when I caught myself in time.

  Luka pulled his finger away from my lips, probably having seen me suddenly pale. “Caylie?”

  Shit, shit, shit. I had almost forgotten that Luka Georgiades wasn’t to be trusted, that at the end of the day I was a pawn and the Brethren was still his queen.

  I forced a smile. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Luka. I’m only like this with you because I trust you.” The irony of the words almost made me want to laugh. “You’re like a brother to me.”

  But if I thought that would satisfy him, I was wrong. Luka’s voice had taken on a chilling note when he answered, “But I’m not your brother.”

  “That’s just a technicality.”

  Frowning, I tried to think why he was suddenly acting aloof. And then it hit me. “Don’t worry, Luka. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior tonight so that everyone will see what a good rehabilitator you are.”

  “Caylie---”

  “I won’t ruin your chances for becoming an Advisor.” Luka was about to speak again, but this time I wasn’t in any mood to hear more of his lies. Whatever he had to say would never erase the truth that our past revealed.

  I was only important to him for as long as I could help him with the Brethren.

  ~~~

  Unlike with yacht races for humans, those organized by and for Caros were always held at night. Low visibility conditions and stormy weather weren’t exactly problems for our kind. If anything, it only added to the excitement and tonight’s atmosphere was deliriously so.

  Luka and I automatically posed for the cameras the moment we stepped out of the limo, Luka’s hand going to the small of my back. There was more press coverage tonight than usual, largely because the Delicazzis were tonight’s hosts. No yacht race was as prestigious as the one held by Caros’ most ancient family, the purest of us all, and invitations to it were a social achievement in itself.

  “When was the last time you attended a race?” Luka asked as he guided me down the red carpet leading to the boardwalk.

  The last time he brought me to one, I thought with a pang. Not wanting to lie, I quickly changed the subject, asking, “Where’s the Delicazzis’ yacht?”

  Luka pointed.

  “Oh,” I breathed in wonder as my gaze followed his line of sight. The sheer size of the yacht was amazing, probably six hundred fifty feet long or more. But the way it was decorated made it even more divine, the entire deck transformed into a floating boardwalk fair. There were even people selling cotton candy on the sides, right next to those who sold hotdogs and burgers and everything else you could have seen in Central Park.

  Taking my hand, Luka escorted me up and it was even more breathtaking up close. Aboard the yacht, I found myself transported to a world like no other. This was no ordinary boardwalk fair. If anything, it was like a utopian version of a small-town festival in Alabama and a charming fair in Europe.

  Opposite the concessionary stands, the pathways were lined with quaint-looking boutiques and Parisian-styled cafes as well as carnival booths of every kind. Once in a while, you’d see clowns or mimes entertaining the crowd and what little I saw of antics were enough to make me laugh.

  “It’s great, isn’t it?” Luka shook his head briefly when a waiter in a sailor’s uniform offered us cocktails.

  “Absolutely.” Unlike Luka, I totally had no problems enjoying blood-flavored cocktails. Just the smell of it was mouthwatering. Blood oranges, literally. Returning the emptied shot glass to the waiter, I told Luka, “This is what I love most about the Delicazzis. They never ever make anything explicitly, well, you know, sexual.”

  Luka blinked. Twice. “Sexual?”

  Shit. Where did that come from? That blood orange cocktail must have gone straight to my head with my empty stomach.

  “Caylie?” Luka’s head cocked to the side at an inquisitive angle. “Explain please.” He said it politely, but there was no mistaking the command underlining it.

  Explain what? Explain how my skin crawled at the mere thought of having any other guy but Luka take my body? Unlike him, sharing my body didn’t come as easily.

  Feeling Luka’s eyes bore through me, I hastily looked for some kind of diversion and spotted one not far off. “Excuse me,” I called out to the female attendant a few feet away. She was dressed as a pirate and held a sheaf of programs in her hand for distribution.

  “I’d like a copy please.”

  She handed me one and curtsied after before turning to Luka, a come-hither smile appearing on her lips. “Prince Luka?”

  Luka smiled back. “I would appreciate one as well, thank you.”

  Watching the woman deliberately brush her breasts against Luka’s sleeves as she handed him a copy, I could feel something inside me growing dark and strong, sharpening like a venom-coated needle.

  I was on my knees on the cold hard ground, and all eyes were on me, their smirks adding to my humiliation. But I didn’t care. All I wanted was to speak to him.

  “Luka, please. I’m begging you.”

  “Caylie?”

  I almost jumped. The vision disappeared, but it left my blood cold.

  Luka’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. Even though this was a Caro event, select reporters from the human press had to be invited and pretensions needed to be upheld. “Are you all right?” he asked sharply.

  I summoned a smile. “I will be if you get me some cotton candy.”

  Luka’s gaze studied me intently for one long moment, but I did my best not to fidget and let him know how close I had been to losing control. Finally, he nodded. “Whatever you wish,” he murmured.

  Oh God of Caros, if only that were true.

  A spark gun went off as he turned away, signaling the start of the race. Guests crowded the deck, lining against the rails to cheer on the contenders. Bets started at ten thousand dollars, and I automatically bid for Prince Riyu Delicazzi’s representative in the race.

  “Abandoned by Luka again, Caylie?”

  It was Corteza Villarreal, and she stood blocking my way before I could even think of an excuse to avoid her company.

  Suppressing a sigh, I said politely enou
gh, “Hello, Corteza. It’s nice seeing you again.” Plain old-fashioned courtesy, even in front your worst enemy, was impossible to kill when you acquired it under Luka Georgiades’ training.

  We exchanged curtseys as was customary in formal Caro occasions such as these. We also did our best to see who could curtsy the lowest and longest, as was customary for rivals like the two of us. Corteza had never forgiven me for not pandering to her, and I had never forgiven her for telling me about that one night she had spent in Luka’s bed almost a year ago.

  The knowledge had been wounding, the pain nearly annihilating. I still couldn’t believe that Luka could prefer her company to mine.

  Corteza straightened first.

  I took my time getting to my feet, emphasizing my victory without words. When our eyes met once more, her lips formed a thin straight line while I had a viciously sweet smile on mine.

  Corteza took the first shot. “Poor Luka. He has to be stuck with you once more without a choice.”

  I nodded understandingly. “He is in rather poor condition. He’s been wanting to fuck me since he became my rehabilitator, but I just can’t be like you, tossing your skirts up for anything with a penis.” I spoke with relish, knowing that the more graphic I was, the more she’d be insulted.

  Corteza looked like she had been slapped. “Foul-mouthed whore,” she spat under her breath.

  I smiled angelically. “But at least I’m not aging like some people here.”

  Corteza actually let a little growl after that, her breasts nearly popping out of the deep-V neckline of her strapless navy jumpsuit. “I’m not the one who begged for him to come back,” she snapped.

  “But he did and he wants me now, not you.” Her words hurt, but I would rather die than let her know it.

  Corteza’s eyes suddenly widened. I followed her gaze and saw Luka stopping midway towards us. I waved him over, knowing how courtesy prevented him from joining us without an invitation.

  His eyes were hooded, but his lips had formed a charming smile when he reached us. “Corteza,” he murmured as he took her hand for a brief kiss.

  “Luka.” Corteza’s voice was seduction in itself, her eyes blazing with lust as she lowered herself into another curtsy, thrusting her breasts forward as she did.

  I had always disliked Corteza. She was the kind of woman who treated lower-ranking Caros like nothing, but right now I hated her. I hated the way she looked at Luka like he was a piece of meat she could devour, hated the way her eyes beckoned for him to look at her, to remember that they had once enjoyed each other’s bodies.

  I hated her.

  “I’ve missed you, darling.” She reached up to trace his cheek with her ruby-colored nails.

  My vision turned black.

  And then I was being kissed, snatched away from the strange oblivion that only my most terrible memories could produce. My eyes flew open.

  It was Luka. Of course it was Luka but I had to see for myself even though the taste was heartbreakingly familiar.

  Behind him, I heard Corteza flounce off, ignored to the point of being snubbed with Luka abandoning her so publicly just to kiss me.

  Luka’s tongue stroked boldly in, and I couldn’t stop myself from gasping in reaction, my insides twisting at the blood-curdling heat it produced. When he pulled away, I asked quietly, shakily, “Why?”

  There was no answering smile on Luka’s face. “Because your eyes turned black.”

  Shit.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  Oh God of Caros, please let him not know the truth. Please let not my fears be the truth.

  Making myself pout, I reached out to touch his cheek…before slowly rubbing the skin, as if erasing the invisible marks that Corteza’s fingers had left on his skin. “What can I say?” I asked lightly. ‘I was that jealous.”

  He raised a brow, again his polite way of expressing disbelief.

  I let out a throaty chuckle. “Oh, come on, Luka. Of course, I’d be jealous once in a while. You know I’m not the type to share. And right now, I definitely don’t want to share my most precious bauble.”

  He caught my hand before I could pat his cheek again and brought it to his lips this time. I shivered at the way his lips lingered on my knuckles. “Luka.” I could feel my cheeks heating up when he still didn’t let go. “People are beginning to look at us.”

  “So let them look,” Luka murmured. “This is not a Brethren violation.”

  I tried to discreetly pull my hand away from his hold, but it only made his grip on me tightened. I gasped when the tip of his tongue came out to lick my skin. “Luka!”

  “Princess Emilia Moretti.”

  The clear and well-modulated voice of the party’s host was like a sword that cut the invisible lines holding us together, with Luka and I breaking immediately apart.

  So she had come, exactly as I feared.

  I bowed my head, knowing that there was nothing I could do to stop my fangs from coming out at the realization.

  Chapter Seven

  Emilia Moretti

  13 Months Ago

  He was the most self-contained guy she had ever seen, like Lysander – her sister’s best friend. But he was also different – like he was forever walking on a tight rope whereas with Lysander, there was no need to guess what he felt. These days, he was forever in despair and only in Estrella’s company did he find reason to smile.

  Emilia stayed silent in her seat, listening and observing. She had always been like that her whole life, but with him…with him she wanted to move, to speak out, to do something – anything so he would know she was alive.

  He talked and didn’t talk a lot. It depended on how you looked at it. He was a charmer for sure, but he also kept his cards incredibly close. No one would ever guess what he was thinking, his gentle violet eyes and polite smile as much a shield as his aloof pose.

  Her older brother leaned close. “You’re drooling.” Alejandro snickered.

  Without batting an eyelash, she stepped on his toe under the table.

  Alejandro choked in pain.

  He turned to her, and it was Emilia’s turn to choke.

  “Is there anything wrong?” His voice was beautiful, cultured, and gentle. Nothing at all like her war freak brothers and their overly aggressive Lyccan instincts, Emilia thought. Nothing at all like those bastards that tried to hurt her sister.

  She smiled shyly. “N-none.” She paused. “Well, there is one thing.”

  “What is it?” He sounded like he would give her the moon now if he could.

  Her heart blossomed. “I want to help,” she slowly revealed and waited, fearing he would react the same way her family had reacted. Only Misty had understood but in the end, even Misty had to bow down to majority.

  “Help in what way?”

  The innocence in her voice disappeared without Emilia knowing it as she said, “I want to kill those who are trying to hurt us.”

  To her shock and burgeoning pleasure, his eyes glittered in understanding. “Then you shall help us.” Her family around them erupted in protest at his words but he paid them no heed and so she ignored them as well.

  “I’ll teach you everything you want to know, Emilia.”

  “You mean it?” She still couldn’t believe he would trust her in the way no one but Misty in the Moretti pack did. Everyone thought she was still so young, and Emilia wished she could one day make them understand that no one could stay young if you found yourself surrounded by war and death for so long.

  “Yes, I do.” A faraway look entered his gaze, and a faint smile played on his lips. “You remind me of someone.”

  Her own smile dimmed because she understood what he wasn’t saying. With a burst of bravado, she told him, “Soon I’ll remind you of me, Emilia Moretti.” And maybe someday, I’ll be the one to make you smile like that.

  Present Time

  “Aren’t you going to say hi to her?” I asked thinly as I followed the rather large entourage trailing after one of the sought-after Morett
i princesses. She was accompanied by a battalion of Lyccan guards, half of them bearing official Council colors while the other half bore the colors of the Moretti pack. She was petite, dark-haired and exotic looking, a perfect foil for Luka’s angelic blond looks.

  I hated her, too, mostly because she could give Luka something I could never give. Emilia Moretti could be his key to his ambition, while I would always remain a brick around his neck for so many reasons.

  “Perhaps,” Luka answered in a noncommittal voice that nevertheless had me gritting my teeth. Was it because he would rather rendezvous with the princess than meet with her in plain sight? Did they already have a secret to hide?

  “She’s lovely,” I heard myself say flatly, feeling all the while like a complete sham.

  Luka tipped my chin up, his eyes curious. “Are you by any means jealous?” He saw the answer in my eyes before I could hide it. Luka started to smile.

  Asshole.

  “Caylie.” The smile was in his voice now, too.

  Oh God of Caros, he was such an asshole.

  “Stop cursing at me.”

  “I’m not,” I said loftily.

  He answered with a knowing look.

  Impulsively deciding to take the bull by the horns, I asked baldly, “Are you courting her?” Courtship was required among our kind, and it was an especially long, formal, and complicated dance for Caros who wanted to date outside our kind.

  “No.”

  I didn’t believe him at all. “Is it classified Brethren information and that’s why you’re lying?” I drawled out. “Then maybe I should rephrase the question. Are you courting someone?”

  Luka missed a beat before answering, “No.”

  I gazed at him in frustration. One part of me was triumphant. I had caught him lying. The other part of me was hysterical, but that part of me I’d rather not know more about.