by Becca Steele
Swallowing hard, I tried to concentrate on what he was asking me.
The meteor itself was tattooed near my wrist, and the trail extended almost all the way to my inner elbow, sparks flying all along it. I had a few tattoos, but this was by far my favourite. It held a special meaning to me.
“It’s a shooting star?”
“Yeah. Well, a meteor, really. The Quadrantids are a meteor shower that happens every January. My dad is—was an astrophysics professor, and he liked to tell me this story of how I was born. And it reminds me of him, so I had the tattoo.”
“What’s the story?” I looked up to see Weston, his head cocked at me, and Cassius and Zayde eyeing my tattoo. They were standing much closer than they had been a moment ago. My attention had been so focused on Caiden’s hand on my arm, I’d completely tuned out my surroundings.
Caiden’s head shot up, too, and he blinked several times, as if he’d been as surprised as I was. He dropped my arm, looking away from me.
“You really want to hear the story now? Right before we’re about to go into the party?”
“No.”
Right. I rolled my eyes at Caiden. “I’ll save it for another time. We can compare tattoos and bond with each other. You can tell me all about the matching tattoos you four have.”
Cassius’ lips curved up in amusement at my sarcastic tone. “The more time I spend around you, the more I like you.”
“I’m very likeable.”
“Enough of this. Let’s just get inside and get this shitshow over with,” Zayde commanded, striding towards the doors. I quickly tucked my arm into Caiden’s before he could say anything. He stiffened but didn’t protest.
Zayde opened the doors.
Showtime.
TEN
It was amazing, the change that came over the Four. Their faces became blank masks, their postures straightened, and they strode into the room like they owned the place. Heads turned, women openly admiring them, the men ranging from admiration, to envy, to something akin to hatred.
As their attention turned to me, I saw curiosity and disdain, and from some of the men…looks that I really didn’t want them to be giving me, making my skin crawl. Maybe this dress had been a bad idea. I stumbled once but recovered and adopted my own blank expression to match the boys, trying to channel their confident stance. Even though I’d felt confident earlier, being the focus of all this attention now…I won’t lie, it shook me. Still, fake it till you make it, right? I wouldn’t let anyone see that I was freaking out inside.
“You’re okay,” Caiden murmured in my ear, proving that I wasn’t so good at faking the confidence, after all. Then he added, “Stop digging your fucking fingers into my arm.”
Oh yeah. I did have a bit of a death grip going on. I loosened my fingers as Caiden, Weston, and I headed over to where our parents were standing, while Cassius and Zayde worked the room, turning on the charm in a way I’d never seen before.
“Winter, darling.” A huge, fake smile spread across my mother’s face as she pulled me away from Caiden and into a hug, kissing my cheek. I stood stiffly, surprised, but at Weston’s throat clearing, I reciprocated the hug, pasting an equally fake smile on my face as she held me at arm’s length to look me over critically. “Couldn’t you have chosen a longer dress?” she tutted, frowning in displeasure.
“You didn’t specify. I’ve never been to one of these parties before, so I didn’t know,” I shrugged, playing innocent.
Her face smoothed. “Of course. John was never one for parties. I’m surprised you’ve turned out so well mannered, all things considered.”
I tried so, so hard to keep my control, speaking through gritted teeth while I dug my nails into the palms of my hands to take my mind off the sting of her insulting words towards my dad.
“Please don’t talk about him that way.”
She gave a light, tinkling laugh. “It’s the truth, dear. That man was completely hopeless.”
That was it. I couldn’t stop myself. I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, Caiden slid his arm around my waist and turned me away from my mother.
“Keep it together,” he hissed in my ear. I looked up at him in shock. He stared down at me, his stormy eyes swirling with a mix of frustration and—was that sympathy? No, I must be mistaken.
I took a deep breath, blinking back the angry tears that had formed, and forced myself to focus on Arlo Cavendish, who stood in front of us. Caiden kept his arm around me, and whatever his reasons were for doing so, I was glad of his presence.
“I’m glad to see you and my son are getting on better, now.” Arlo smiled at me. His smile actually seemed genuine, which was unexpected but not entirely unwelcome.
Some of the tension left me, and I unclenched my fists, wincing slightly at the sting left from digging my nails so tightly into my palms. “Oh, we’re great friends now. Aren’t we, Cade?” I smirked at him, and he rolled his eyes.
“The best of friends,” he drawled.
“Me too,” Weston interjected.
I grinned at him, my body easing as the remaining tension drained out of me. “We are most definitely friends. I wouldn’t let just anyone beat me at pool.”
“I was taking it easy on you last time we played. Just you wait till we have a rematch.”
“I hate to interrupt this fascinating conversation, but you remember what you’re here to do?” My mother spoke, and Caiden’s arm tightened around my waist in warning as he answered her.
“Yes. We’re here to show everyone what a happy little family we are, and how we just love spending time with each other, blah fucking blah.”
Weston snorted as my mother’s eyes shot icy daggers at Caiden. “Enough of the rudeness. Go and mingle, and don’t do anything to show us up.”
Clearly not trusting himself, or any of us, not to say anything insulting, Caiden steered me away from them, keeping his hold on me, Weston at my side. “I need a strong fucking drink for this shit,” he muttered as we headed to the bar that had been set up in the corner of the room. He moved away from me once we reached it, and as we stood, waiting for a drink, I took the opportunity to look around the room.
You could feel the power and influence radiating from all angles. And the money. Women and men of all ages worked the room, expensively dressed, looking down their noses at one another, their sense of entitlement obvious. It was no wonder the Four acted the way they did on campus, growing up around these people. And now I had to play nice with them, too. I groaned internally. I had to keep my end goal in mind. Stay focused, stay on my mother’s good side, and remember I was doing this for my dad.
“You want a drink?”
I turned to Weston. “Just water, please, or a Coke if they have it.” My plan was to stick to non-alcoholic drinks so I could do some investigating later once everyone was either too drunk to notice, or failing that, asleep.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
He nodded and placed my order with the bartender. He waved off my offer of paying, laughing, telling me that it was a free bar and we never paid for drinks at parties. It kind of seemed obvious when I thought about it.
Another sign I had no clue what I was doing here.
Picking up my Coke, I thanked the bartender, then took a long sip. Perfectly chilled. Mmm.
“Hello, beautiful.”
I spun around, seeing James standing there with a blonde girl in a short black dress, fishnet stockings, a fuckton of eyeliner, and a sullen expression on her face. She looked to be about sixteen or seventeen.
“James!” I threw my arms around him, happy to see him. He hugged me back, leaning down to kiss my cheek.
His expression darkened as he released me from the hug, taking in the two men that had come to stand either side of me.
“Granville.” Caiden’s tone was hostile.
“Cavendish.” James matched his tone, taking a step forwards. They stood for a moment, glaring at each other, neither backing down.
<
br /> For fuck’s sake.
“Lena? What’re you doing with Granville?” Weston stared at the girl who had been standing with James, and she rolled her eyes.
“He gave me a lift. Get over it. I’m here—that has to count for something.” Dismissing us, she strolled off and disappeared into the crowds.
“Who was that?”
“Lena Drummond. Cassius’ sister. She’s seventeen and…mad at the world? Or something? I don’t know. She’s moody.”
“Right. Thanks for your insightful comments, West.”
“Pleasure.” He grinned and picked up his pint, downing half in one go before he placed it back down on the bar.
I glanced to my left to see James and Caiden still glaring at each other.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I directed my question at Caiden, since he’d given me the same look on more than one occasion. Almost every occasion, actually.
He finally looked away from James, his eyes meeting mine. “None of your business.” He pushed away from the bar and brushed past me, heading away without another word.
“Sorry. Old family rivalry,” James said by way of explanation.
“Ah, I see,” I said, as if I understood, when in actual fact I had no fucking clue. I decided that was a conversation best saved for another time and linked my arm through Weston’s. “Shall we go and mingle?”
He groaned. “We’d better. Come on.”
“See you later.” I smiled at James, and he nodded, raising his hand in a goodbye wave as he leaned on the bar to order a drink, and Weston steered me towards a group of women.
Hours passed. Long, dull hours. The evening was a blur of introductions and watching and waiting for everyone to get drunker and drunker, interspersed with periods of dancing and making polite (and not-so-polite) conversation. I’d wanted to discreetly keep an eye on my mother, but she’d disappeared around an hour into the party, and I hadn’t seen her since.
When she finally re-entered the room, making a beeline for a tall, blonde woman standing by the windows who was waving to get her attention, I turned to Weston. “I want to talk to my mother quickly. I’ll come and find you later?”
“Are you sure you want me to leave you with her?” Weston eyed me doubtfully.
“I’m sure.”
“Okay.” He scanned the room, his gaze passing over Caiden lounging at the bar, talking to an older man. “Cass and Z have both disappeared. I’m gonna look for them. Come and find us when you’re ready?”
I nodded, and he headed towards the doors, leaving me to face my mother. Taking a deep breath, I made my way to where she stood, glass of champagne in hand.
“Mother.” I pasted a smile on my face, and she returned my smile, equally as false. Guess we had something in common, after all. She introduced me to the woman she was standing with, who I promptly forgot the name of, and we made polite small talk, discussing such scintillating topics as the weather and a couture dress my mother was having flown in from Paris. My mother’s friend excused herself partway through the dress conversation, and my mother turned to me.
“I trust you’ve settled in at university?” Even as she asked the question, her gaze flitted over my head, her attention already elsewhere.
“Yes, thank you. Maybe you’d like to come and visit the campus, sometime?” I suggested tentatively.
“No, thank you. I’ll talk to Arlo, and maybe we can arrange a get-together soon.” Taking a step back, she placed her now-empty champagne flute on the windowsill. “Excuse me. I must catch up with Estella before she leaves.” Before I could say anything else, she was gone, leaving me alone.
I guess that was as good as I was going to get. While I hadn’t spoken to her for long, I was confident that I was gaining some headway with her. Part of my rough plan for the evening was complete; now, all that remained to do was try and explore some of the rest of the house, preferably without attracting any attention. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking for, but if I could find anything that would connect my mother to my dad, then it had to be here.
Before I could make a move, an arm slid around my waist, and I looked up to see James grinning down at me. “You finally managed to shake your shadows, then?”
Meeting his gaze, I returned his grin with a wry smile. “Not quite. Caiden’s over there.” I stared over at the bar where he still stood, now with Portia hanging off him. Ugh. I took a step closer to James, placing my hand on his arm. “Anyway, enough about them. Are you having a good night?”
“I am, now.” He winked at me, and I rolled my eyes.
“James. Please.”
“Sorry. You are the most beautiful woman in the room, though.”
“Uh, sure, if you say so,” I laughed. “Thanks for those links you sent me, by the way. I’m feeling pretty confident about my essay grade now.”
“You’re welcome. It helps that I have connections in the faculty, and I’m always happy to hook you up.” We chatted about our university coursework for a while longer. Eventually, the gathering thinned out a little, the remaining guests well on their way to being wasted, and I was able to slip out of the room, away from James, on the pretence of using the loos.
Where to explore first? I turned left and headed down a long corridor, past another velvet rope marking the area as out of bounds. There was a suit of armour standing next to a door. An actual suit of armour. I idly wondered if it was my mother or Arlo who had purchased it. It was a little creepy, to be perfectly honest.
I peered around the suit of armour to look through the door that was slightly ajar and wished I hadn’t.
I sucked in a shocked breath.
What. The. Fuck.
ELEVEN
I hated these parties. Even worse? Winter. Strutting around in that dress, fucking clueless that men old enough to be her dad were drooling over her. Not to mention that fucker, Granville, who hadn’t taken his eyes from her since he turned up. Asshole.
Downing the rest of my whiskey, I leaned back on the bar, nodding my head at the bartender to pour me another.
“Hey, Cade.”
Portia.
My occasional fuck buddy. Never anything more than that, as much as she liked to pretend otherwise. Tall, curvy, amazing tits—shame her body didn’t make up for her irritating as fuck personality. Even if her personality had matched her looks, I wouldn’t have been interested. Women were great for fucking, but nothing more, as far as I was concerned. I’d had first-hand experience of what our world did to relationships. Putting trust in someone? Hoping they stay faithful to you? Fuck that. Not in our world.
“Hi.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Granville making a beeline for Winter, curling his arm around her waist and leaning down to speak in her ear. She beamed up at him, her whole face lighting up, and I clenched my fists.
“Caiden!”
“Huh?” I turned to see Portia frowning at me, her lips pursed in disapproval.
“I was talking to you, but you were too busy watching her,” she hissed. “Why are you interested in Granville’s sloppy seconds, anyway? She’s nothing. A trashy whore with no class. You even wrote as much on her car, remember?” Her lips curved into a sneer. “Look at how she’s dressed, for goodness’ sake! She doesn’t even come from money, so why are you wasting your time lusting over her?”
I bristled at her words, for some reason. “Babe, jealousy doesn’t suit you. But believe me when I say, Winter Huntington means nothing to me.”
“Prove it.” She arched a challenging eyebrow, and I pulled her closer, letting her run her hands all over me, while I picked up my replenished drink and tipped it back, feeling the smooth whiskey slide down my throat. As Portia kissed up my neck, I watched Winter over her shoulder. Our eyes met, and hers narrowed.
I smirked. Snowflake didn’t like seeing me with other women. It was fucking obvious that she liked me, staring at me with those horny eyes every time I was around her. When she wasn’t trying to fight with me, that is.
She sl
id her hand up Granville’s arm, and he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She tore her gaze away from me and returned his smile.
I’d had enough. I downed my drink and turned to Portia. Yeah, I’d been planning to keep an eye on Winter for the rest of the evening, but I couldn’t stomach watching her with Granville anymore. “Want to get out of here, babe?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Portia purred.
We headed out of the main party room without another backwards look, Portia well on her way to being drunk already, prancing along next to me, hanging off my arm.
Nah. Away from the crowds and the sight of Winter with Granville, I remembered this was a bad idea. Bad. Portia was more trouble than she was worth. Abruptly I stopped in the corridor, and she stumbled into me.
“I changed my mind. Go find another cock to suck.” I shook her arm off and strode away, ignoring her outraged whine behind me. She’d get over it. Opening the door to the study, where we normally ended up at these parties, I found Zayde, Cass, and West there already, Cass rolling a joint with a girl on his lap, a huge bottle of vodka in front of him, and West and Zayde playing darts, of all things. I raised a brow.
“You boys having fun?”
My brother spun around, his face splitting into a grin when he saw me.
“Want to join us, bro? We’re playing for money. So far Z owes me three grand.”
“Two.”
“Sorry, mate, it’s three.”
“Whatever,” Zayde muttered, taking aim at the board. I shook my head and left them to it, helping myself to Cass’ vodka and rolling my own joint.
“Winter looked hot tonight, don’t you think?” Cassius gave me a sly smile.
“Not as hot as me, though, right?” the girl on his lap piped up, turning her head towards his and pretending to pout.
“Don’t make me pick. You know you’re fucking sexy, babe,” he murmured, kissing up her neck and sliding his hand between her legs as she moaned in pleasure, her eyes falling shut.
