So, Eloise turned her own sister. Interesting. First charge? I assume so. I narrow my eyes at her, liking her about as much as I did her sister, which was more in the region of outright loathing.
Again, she dismisses me and turns to him. “So, how about it?” she says, taking off her coat and flinging it onto the sofa. “I don’t mind sharing,” she says with a backward glance at me. My mouth drops open in shock as I clearly see what is around her neck: a very similar collar to the one I had on just a week ago, minus the diamonds. Gee, I feel special. A little platinum ‘C’ dangles at her throat, marking her as his. I resist the urge to throw up. He sees my reaction and he quickly steps to the side, away from her, his eyes begging me to let him explain. But I’m not sticking around here for explanations.
“I have to go,” I say as forcefully as I can. “I will see you later…maybe,” I spit out, and I beat a hasty retreat, not daring to look back as I hear her stupid, tinkly laugh.
“Alone at last. I have been dying for you to hurt me,” she says harshly.
I run.
I burst into Devon’s suite. Lincoln and Scott look up at me startled. “Everything okay, V.A.?” Lincoln asks quickly. “Did he hurt you?”
“Erm, no. It’s fine. Something else. It’s okay. How’s Devon?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.
“Asleep. He was exhausted,” he replies, not happy with my lack of forthcoming.
I nod and go into the bedroom. I didn’t expect to find him on the bed. Instead, he is curled up on the floor with a pillow propped up under his head. I kneel down and brush his hair off his forehead, taking comfort in him, even as he slumbers.
Well, nothing for me to do here as I glance a look of contempt at Jess. Now might be a good time to sneak off to see Cade. Clearly Constantine is being kept busy, so it’s perfect. I shudder at the thought of him with that woman. He might as well be fucking Eloise. I can’t believe he kept this from me. Arse.
I stand up again, shaking, willing myself to back up there and take back what’s mine, but I don’t. I can’t walk in on him with her. I just can’t. I decide on a whim to change. I swap my black mini and top for a professional black pant suit buttoned up with two buttons and a thin, silky black camisole underneath. I sweep my hair up in a tidy bun and pin it up. I like the look. I look kickass. Business-style kickass. I can’t really pull off scary kickass. I sigh, cursing my swee
t looks. Next time I Shift, I am going hardcore. Maybe more people will take me seriously and my authority won’t be defied.
I stalk back out of the bedroom, feet still clad in my trademark Louboutins, and tell Lincoln and Scott that I’m going to meet Xane. Scott won’t offer to come – which reminds me he had something to tell me – and Lincoln will leave me to it knowing I can handle myself.
I excuse myself and fortunately neither one of them offers to join me. With a quick thought, pushed aside about what my sire is up to, I head downstairs to the still empty conference room. I sit on a table swinging my legs and wait.
He must really be watching me as not five minutes later, there he is, walking towards me, eyes narrowed in caution. He knows he can’t kill me, and he also knows I want to kill him. He should be nervous.
“Still want to kill me?” he says.
“Depends,” I say nonchalantly. “Who was it you killed?”
“It doesn’t matter. He hated you though, so I still think I did you a favor.”
“Hm, I’ll be the judge of that. Make this quick. I can’t say for sure how long until someone comes looking for me.”
He comes to stand in front of me, quite boldly, and looks down at me, still sitting on the table, with those serious gray eyes of his. I stare back up at him, not particularly liking being so short next to him. I focus on his rapidly beating pulse and he steps hastily back.
“Well?” I prompt him.
He blinks and clears his throat. “I have a proposition for you.”
“So, you said on the phone. Get to it.”
He sits next to me, a few feet away and launches into his, quite frankly, bizarre business offer, and catches me completely off guard. I just stare at him momentarily, trying to organize my thoughts.
“I see. It’s interesting. Of all the things, I thought you would say, this wasn’t one of them.”
His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Thought I might surprise you.”
“What would your reasons be?” I ask, genuinely interested.
“Those are my own to know.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” I ask.
“You could snap my neck like a twig and yet I trust you,” he says by way of an answer.