Page 119 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

Ryker’s attention returned to his father. “Brynleigh’s wonderful. You’re going to love…”

Brynleigh hurried from the room, and Ryker’s words faded. She clutched her wine like it was a lifeboat and counted the doors. Thank the gods, the bathroom was precisely where Ryker said it would be.

It was luxurious, reminiscent of what she expected to see in The Lily’s lobby, not a home. A long marble counter with three sunken sinks spanned one wall. A mirror ran above it. Soft lighting was embedded in the ceiling, casting a warm glow on the interior. Three stalls were behind her. The navy blue doors matched the striations running through the counter.

Opening each door to ensure she was alone—although really, who would be here?—she leaned against the counter and gulped the rest of her wine. Her head tingled and felt lightheaded, but it wouldn’t last long.

Alcohol never had a lasting effect on vampires. Only Faerie Wine had any real influences on children of the moon, and this was not that.

Slowly, the panic dwindled, and she could draw deep breaths once more.

Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket.

Z: See you tonight. Safe house.

Short and to the point, exactly what she expected from the shifter. Brynleigh tapped back a brief reply confirming she understood, hitting “send” before sliding her phone away and staring at herself in the mirror.

Black, shining eyes. Silky blonde hair. Fangs. She was a vampire through and through. There wasn’t a hint of the human she’d once been.

Why couldn’t she follow the rules? Why was she so overcome with emotion tonight?

Quite frankly, Brynleigh’s behavior was unbecoming of a vampire who’d killed more people than she could count.

“Get a grip,” she told herself firmly. “His dad is alert and spoke for the first time in a while. So what? It doesn’t mean anything.”

Her harsh, callous tone didn’t help her feel better. If anything, it made her feel worse. Odd.

She tried another tactic. Fingers digging into the counter, she glared at herself. “Remember the game. Rule number one: you cannot trust anyone.” Okay, that was working. Her spine straightened. “Rule number two: doubly blessed vampires do not hide behind?—”

The door swung open.

Brynleigh clamped her mouth shut and spun on her heels as River entered the washroom. Even red-eyed and puffy-cheeked, the slender water fae was beautiful. Her long brown hair hung to her waist, and there was an elegance about her that probably came from years in the same type of school that Valentina had attended.

River was leaner than Ryker and less battle-worn. However, she had enough piercings for both of them. Brynleigh counted three in each ear, one on River’s lip and another in her nose. Beyond the piercings, though, there was a depth in River’s brown eyes that Brynleigh recognized.

Grief called to grief.

And behind that, strength hid in River’s gaze. It was the kind that could only come from surviving something difficult. Whatever the young water fae had been through, it hadn’t been easy.

“Sorry about that scene in the dining room.” River moved towards the sink closest to the door and turned on the tap. She splashed water on her face and rubbed her cheeks before drying her hands on a nearby towel. Her eyes were still red, and her cheeks still puffy as she smiled softly. “It’s just, Dad isn’t often…”

“You don’t need to explain.” In fact, Brynleigh would strongly prefer if River didn’t. “Ryker told me about the Stillness.”

A tear ran down River’s cheek. “Yes. Dad’s been sick for so long. Practically my whole life.”

Apparently, they were going to talk about this. Great. What was it with people confiding in Brynleigh? First Hallie, now River. Brynleigh thought she did an excellent job of giving off a “leave me alone” vibe. Clearly, she was wrong. She’d have to work on that when all this was done.

“I’m sorry.” Brynleigh truly was. No matter what she thought about Ryker, she couldn’t deny that Cyrus Waterborn appeared to be a beloved member of his family.

“Thank you.” River chewed on her lip, drawing her piercing into her mouth before popping it back out.

An awkward silence stretched between them. Brynleigh was reaching for her empty wineglass, intent on leaving when River’s hand landed on hers.

“My brother is a good fae,” River murmured.

Brynleigh blinked. Where did that come from? Had River deduced Brynleigh’s true intentions?

A thousand curses ran through her mind, each worse than the last. She searched River’s face, trying to see what the fae meant. That panic was back, a fist constricting her heart. “I?—”

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