by T. A. White
Her laugh was throaty and husky as she threw her head back.
“One of the reasons I chose her. Even as a human she possessed few scruples.”
“Be careful her ambitions don’t turn in your direction,” he cautioned.
I glanced at the man and woman who had trailed behind Sofia. Unlike Aiden’s guards, these two made no attempt at blending into the crowd. They were dressed alike, their clothes dark and tight, while still managing to not seem entirely out of place in this glittering room.
The man matched Sofia’s coloring—they both looked like they were of Italian descent, or full-blooded Italian. His dark eyes surveyed the room, cataloging. The woman at his side was shorter than him by only an inch, her hair cut short and pulled back from her face. She had high cheekbones and plump lips, with skin the color of night. She was striking, and not just because of her bone structure. She looked like a sharpened blade, meant to cut through everything.
She met my gaze briefly, interest and curiosity there, before returning to watching the room.
Both of Sofia’s guards were powerful. Not as powerful as the two flirting beside me, but enough so that a small headache was forming.
“Is this Thomas’s wayward charge I’ve been hearing so much about?” Sofia asked, her eyes bright and curious.
Aw, how nice. Being discussed as if I wasn’t standing right there, a thinking, feeling being.
I held my peace even as irritation bit at me. However, Thomas had been clear—seen and not heard.
It was a phrase I had to repeat to myself as Sofia drifted closer, reaching out and touching the lock of hair that curled against my cheek.
“Very pretty,” she said as if looking at a piece of art. The art being me. “And more obedient than I’d been given to expect.”
I didn’t react, just met her eyes with a bland expression that said I couldn’t be bothered with responding to such ridiculousness. It was the avid interest in her eyes that told me she was testing me, poking and prodding to get my measure.
She’d have to work harder than that.
I turned to find Aiden staring at me. He knew what I was up to.
For whatever reason, he decided to take pity on me.
“Shall we dance?” he asked Sofia, holding out one hand.
She took it with a coy smile. “I thought you would leave me in suspense for a little longer.”
“Never,” he told her.
The two left me to hold up the wall, waltzing toward the dance floor, a string quartet playing as people slowly rotated before them.
Sofia’s guard hesitated, giving me a small nod before she and the man slowly trailed after their matriarch.
“I’ll never understand the draw between those two,” a slightly accented voice said by my side. Anton stared after the two clan leaders, a considering expression on his face.
I felt a small flicker of surprise that he was addressing me. Another of Liam’s enforcers, Anton had made no secret of the fact that he wasn’t my biggest fan—even going so far as exiting any room I happened to enter, or turning on his heel and heading in the other direction if he happened to approach me in the hall.
That he was addressing me now, had even made a point of tracking me down to talk to me, left me feeling like the world might be in imminent danger of ending.
His dislike of all things me was understandable—up to a point. It was my presence and stubbornness about joining a clan that had, in a roundabout way led to the death of his human companion. Granted, she’d been plotting against me and had gone so far as to attempt to place the blame for several werewolf killings at Caroline’s feet. In addition to that, she’d had several vile things planned for my eventual demise.
“Then again, Liam’s obsession with you doesn’t make sense to me either,” he said as an aside.
My lips twitched at the statement. So, we had progressed from him ignoring me to thinly veiled hostility. I suppose that was progress. At least he wasn’t pretending I didn’t exist anymore.
The formal uniform Anton was dressed in seemed ill-suited for the man. He wore it poorly, like he itched to tear it off. He would have been more at home on some battlefield swinging a sword, a warrior from some long-ago era.
His skin was permanently tan. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and the faint lines on his face said he’d been turned later than me, after a lifetime spent living to the fullest and laughing at every opportunity.
“Speechless. This is a first.” His words were dry and cutting, his dislike coming through very clearly. “I hadn’t thought you capable of such restraint.”
“Tell me—are you mad I exposed your companion for what she was or because you didn’t see it?” I asked, finally turning to look at him fully.
I’d had time to think since everything had gone down. Granted, his obvious problem with me didn’t take up a lot of headspace given all the other problems in my life, but I had given him some consideration.
My bet was on the latter reason. I’d seen him with his companion before she died, and while there’d been affection there, it had seemed almost patronizing—that of an older man with a woman he thought cute but ultimately slightly stupid. Not to mention, Anton had a bit of a reputation as a player.
His expression turned frosty, implyingI’d guessed correctly. It seemed finding her killer and delivering him for Anton’s revenge hadn’t been enough to alter his attitude toward me.
I didn’t let it bother me. I had never aspired to be liked by everyone. His sour outlook, while slightly irritating, had little impact on me in the long run. One of the perks of not being very involved in Thomas’s affairs.
A waiter appeared before us, a woman whose gaze was bright and her smile cheery as she offered a tray of drinks.
“Can I interest you in a refreshment?” she asked, tilting the tray our way to entice us. She was a bright spot in the somber room where the laughter seemed more playacting than reality.
“Run along, the adults are speaking,” Anton said in dismissal.
The woman’s smile wilted and for a moment she looked like a kicked puppy.
I smiled at her, noting the small fangs denting her lower lip and the faintest trace of power. She was older than me by at least a century but not much more than that.
“I’ll have one,” I told her, grabbing a glass of what looked like white wine.
She beamed at me.
Anton made a small scoffing sound, waiting until she had left. “Kindness won’t get you far in our world.”
I shrugged. Maybe, maybe not.
I sniffed the liquid. It smelled lighter and sweeter than any wine I’d ever had. Given the fairy wine circulating, I decided it might be best to hold off on tasting the drink.
“What is it you want?” I asked, still considering the liquid. It was obvious he wanted something, or he wouldn’t have deigned to visit me in my little corner.
He handed me a pair of opera gloves. “He said you forgot part of your outfit.”
There was only one person he could be referencing. I turned, spotting Liam in the crowd, his gaze on mine.
As I watched, Niamh laid one hand lightly on his chest. A flash of jealousy at the other woman’s proprietary gesture took me by surprise.
It didn’t help that Liam made no effort to evade her touch, standing there stoically, his expression unchanging as her hand moved up to his shoulder.
“She wants him back,” Anton observed unhappily.
Back implied they’d been together before.
“Who is she to him?” I asked, curiosity prodding me.
“An old flame,” Anton said, a twist to his lips.
The words did nothing to stem the jealousy that was winding its way through me. The two seemed like they’d stepped straight from a painting, from some bucolic scene. The Fae princess with her prince. How sweet. Not.
“I have a hard time seeing the two of them together,” I said. She was vicious and petty. Liam gave every indication of wanting to be as far awa
y from her as possible.
“What? From your limited time spent with Liam, you think you know him?” Anton asked. He thought about it before conceding. “Maybe you’d be right about the current Liam, but once upon a time the two made quite the name for themselves, each trying to outdo the other for pure viciousness.”
I held up the gloves. “What are these for?”
“Just put them on,” he said impatiently.
I held his gaze with my own, not changing expression and not making any move to don the gloves.
“It escapes me why you were the first person he visited when he returned,” Anton muttered, reaching for my arm and turning it up.
First person? I looked back at Liam again, remembering his recent visit, seeing it in a new light with this news.
“It’s best not to advertise your marks to the world,” Anton explained with a forced patience, grabbing one glove and pulling it up my arm as I watched Liam.
He glanced up at that moment, his gaze connecting with mine. It was like being hit with a fist of electricity, an inescapable awareness, as potent now as the first time it had happened.
He took in the two of us as Anton shoved on my other glove. The smallest warmth entered his expression and he cocked his head, the gesture an unmistakable summons.
I gave him a look that said ask nicely.
In response, he glanced at Anton and jerked his head.
“We’ve been summoned,” Anton muttered, grabbing my arm and hauling me after him. He took the glass from me and set it on a waiter’s tray as we passed.
Liam looked at me and smirked, obviously feeling pretty pleased he’d gotten his way. I gave him a challenging smile. We’d see how long that lasted.
“Are you my keeper for the evening?” I asked Anton, shifting my attention from the small group we were approaching.
“Something like that.”
I gave him a considering look as he avoided my eyes. That was not the response I’d been expecting.
A shoulder bumped me and a pair of familiar eyes met mine. Cadell looked at my companion and then touched my shoulder. For a brief moment, his hand was warm, almost hot against me.
“You should watch where you’re going,” he said. The words were at odds with the slightly wary look in his eyes, one I understood when a piece of paper was slipped into my hand.
He turned and walked away before I could say anything, weaving around the floor as he headed back to Niall, who very carefully wasn’t watching us.
I looked around, finding no one seemed to have noticed the exchange, or if they had, they’d written it off as the baby vampire making a fool of herself.
“What was that about?” Anton asked, his gaze suspicious as if he knew something had just happened, but not what.
I gave him a bright smile, clasping my hands and hiding the paper. “Nothing. Let’s find Liam before he has a coronary over you not doing what you’re supposed to.”
I stepped past him before he could say anything, reaching up casually to tuck the folded piece of paper into the top of my glove.
Before Anton could ask any further questions, we reached Liam. He slipped smoothly away from Niamh, evading her as he reached me.
“Aileen, good. You saved me that dance you promised,” Liam said smoothly. “Come, dance with me.” It wasn’t really a request.
I took the hand he offered, somewhat reluctantly. My dancing skills were average at best.
I was very aware of Niamh glaring at us as we walked away.
A new song started up as he set one hand against my waist and took my hand in his other.
“This brings back memories of the last time we danced,” Liam said, his body brushing against mine as he turned us and set us to gliding across the dance floor.
“Hopefully, this evening has a better ending than that one,” I said. Last time we’d ended the night with a body on the ground.
Liam was a masterful dancer, making it seem like I halfway knew what I was doing. He led me through the steps, the slight pressure of his hands guiding me.
“What did the Fae slip you?” Liam whispered in my ear.
I leaned back, catching a glimpse of Liam’s face as he swept me across the floor. He looked like he was making idle chatter about the weather.
“What makes you think he slipped me anything?” I asked, stalling. I didn’t know what Cadell had given me, but from the way he and Niall were acting it must be important.
“Anton wasn’t in a position to see, but I was,” Liam said, never raising his voice or losing that slightly patronizing look on his face. “It was a skilled pass.”
I remained quiet, unsure what would be the best response. Liam was technically my employer. Yet my previous relationship with the two Fae complicated things, especially since I felt like I owed them a debt.
“I have to commend you on your lack of reaction. If I didn’t know you so well, I would never have spotted anything amiss,” he murmured, his expression loving.
To the ballroom’s occupants, it would seem like we were having a moment between lovers. An impression that didn’t seem to go over Niamh’s head, her expression turning vindictive as she glared at us.
If I didn’t know better, I would think Liam was doing it on purpose.
“How do you know the two of them?” he asked.
His question answered one thing. He didn’t know they were my downstairs neighbors, something I found surprising given how he seemed to know everything else in my life.
I sighed. “We should really leave this conversation until we’re not surrounded by potential enemies.”
My forced smile was loving, adulation shining from every pore.
“A secret,” Liam murmured. “You know how I feel about those.”
Yes. It seemed most vampires couldn’t resist a secret, going to excessive lengths to ferret them out. Secrets might as well have been the lifeblood of my new species. That, and actual blood.
“I will find out what you’re hiding,” he warned in a deep voice as if he relished the thought.
“Yes, but perhaps not here,” I told him.
“Challenge accepted.”
I fought against rolling my eyes.
The music ended and we both clapped politely before Liam escorted me off the dance floor to where Anton stood watching. He’d drifted to the opposite side of the room from Niamh and the other Fae, something that was no doubt on purpose.
“Anything interesting to report?” Liam asked Anton when we reached him. He kept one firm hand on my waist, keeping the side of my body pressed against the length of his.
Anton shook his head. “It’s been quiet, so far.”
I subtly watched the gathering through my othersight, noting the thin streams of magic that drifted through the air. They seemed aimless, harmless as they ducked and swooped near the ceiling.
“What is it you think will happen?” I asked.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be stuck waiting,” Liam said. “I’d already have taken care of the problem.”
There was frustration in his face and voice. I could tell he didn’t like sitting back and waiting for his enemies to strike. No one did.
Waiting was the worse feeling in the world. Knowing there were people out there who wanted to kill you or at least fuck up your world, but not being able to do a damn thing about it because you didn’t know how or when they would strike.
A server circled our way. I shook my head when the tray of wine was offered to me, noting Liam and Anton did the same.
As they resumed their hushed conversation, I watched the magic, fascinated. It was rare to see so much of the stuff in an ambient form, just swimming through the room as if it was a giant aquarium. I idly wondered whether the ribbons of magic had been created or if they were a natural phenomenon.
Columbus was supposedly on several ley lines, one of the reasons it had such a strong supernatural population. Ley lines were great wells of magic that could be tapped to amplify a person’s strengths. Not to mention, t
heir presence was capable of sustaining those spooks whose very lives were dependent on its presence.
I was so consumed with the hypnotic beauty above that I momentarily forgot about watching the people around me.
A server drifted past, jostling me and distracting me from my thoughts. I stared at her, not knowing why a sense of danger and impending doom skated along my nerves, wondering why the woman had snagged my attention in the first place.
It was the one from earlier, the one who had interrupted me and Anton.
I couldn’t quite put my finger on what exactly it was about her that struck me as “off”. Soldiers understood instinct and gut urges. Sometimes a soldier could look at someone and know they had an IED or weapon on them. Later they wouldn’t be able to explain how or why they knew, they just did. It had something to do with experience and intuition converging to warn them. Of course, sometimes they got it wrong.
For that reason, I remained in place, watching for a clue that would tell me how to act. I didn’t want to start something without knowing for a fact I wasn’t simply being jumpy.
She seemed normal enough, the tray in her hands oddly full despite the crowd she moved through. I saw why, as she ignored a vampire who tried to signal for a glass of wine.
She was moving too fast through the crowd, not using that slow meandering walk most of the servers used while enticing people to take another glass. Her path was too direct, her mission pre-determined.
Then I realized what had bothered me all along. It was her expression, eyes vacant, face blank, as if she was a doll someone else had wound up and sent on her way.
I moved before I could think, cutting through the crowd at an angle from her.
“Aileen,” Liam snapped.
I barely paid attention, conscious of the server as she momentarily moved out of view when a red cap lumbered past.
Liam’s hand caught my arm and pulled me to a stop. “What are you doing?”
“Something is wrong,” I said, already twisting to locate the woman.
“What?” he asked.
I grimaced. “Not sure.”
“Try to explain,” he said with forced patience.
