Page 73 of Deadmen's Captive

I grinned as I wrote back, feeling a little lighter at her words.

Yeah, I really think you would like her.

Then treat her well and don't cheat!

She followed up with a gif of pepe le pew running after the female cat and I replied with another of Donald Duck with his heart pumping out of his chest before sticking my phone on charge.

I had to admit, her words had given me some relief. At least there was someone out there who thought I wasn't a complete jerk. I just hoped Paige agreed, because there was something between us, and I had the feeling the other guys felt the same, even if they wouldn’t admit it yet. Persephone might be under contract to Hades and his DeathKnights, but I knew the truth that Nate and Bast hadn’t even realised yet.

Paige Matthews was ours.

Chapter Thirty Two

PAIGE

The air in the art room was thick with the scent of oil paints, a smell that usually comforted me, but today it mingled with the undercurrent of tension. My mind was whirling as I worked on the canvas before me. It was supposed to be a garden, but the crimson flowers had taken on a wild, almost sinister twist, probably reflecting my rather mixed up feelings about tonight. It was the Second Trial tonight and Bast was picking me up from the art room at eight and taking me straight over to the Underworld clubhouse so I could get ready there. I had spent most of the night and all of today bouncing between feeling terrified, nervous and excited, and had finally given up and come over to the art room to try and forget while I painted. Normally the movement of my brushes over the canvas calmed me, but today it hadn’t worked. It didn’t help either that David had turned up just after me, and kept dropping in to chat.

He’d just popped in again, and was leaning against the table to my left, eyes fixed on my brush movements, which made me even more nervous.

"Paige," he began. "About the ball... were you ok? I tried to find you afterwards, but they said you’d gone off with the Reapers and no one knew where you’d gone."

I dropped my brush into the water jar and smiled at him.

"Oh, that," I said, forcing a lightness into my tone that I didn't quite feel. "It was just a prank by the Reapers. Nothing to worry about. I’m sorry I didn’t come back afterwards, I was quite tired out by all the excitement."

David frowned, shifting from one foot to another. "You sure? Looked pretty intense from where I stood."

"Trust me, it's nothing."

"Anyway," David shifted closer, his gaze dropping to my mouth for a fleeting second. "I hope you didn’t think me too forward at the ball. I was hoping we’d have a little more time together.”

“Oh, um… no, you were fine,” I said, not wanting to offend him, but also not really wanting to encourage him either. He'd been a little more forceful than normal at the ball, but I’d put it down to nerves and alcohol.

“That’s good. How about we go grab a drink now? Clear the air?"

I hesitated, glancing over at my unfinished painting. A part of me yearned for that normalcy, to just be Paige having coffee with a normal guy, away from all the craziness creeping into my life. But Bast and the others needed me, and my own excitement was growing as the afternoon wore on.

"Sorry, I can't," I said. "I've got plans already."

"Plans?" His expression darkened, a shadow crossing his usually friendly face. "With who?"

"No one important," I mumbled, picking up my brush again. "Just plans."

"Right," he said, his jaw tightening. “That’s fine. Another time then?”

“Sure,” I said, trying to focus again, but really just wanting him to leave. Bast would be picking me up soon, and I wanted a few minutes to collect my thoughts before he arrived. David didn’t seem to get the hint though.

"Word is you're seeing Tristan Blackwood."

I laughed. "Is that what they're saying now?"

"Are they wrong?" His gaze didn't waver.

"Tristan and I are just friends," I said, my voice steady though the mere mention of dating Tristan sent a thrill through me.

"Friends," David echoed.

"Yeah, friends." I forced another laugh, this one a little more convincing. "You know how people love to talk."

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