Page 57 of Filthy Rich Vampires: For Eternity

“Take it as a no,” she said pointedly.

My brother was laughing as he left, and I wondered if he’d ever actually felt the pain of rejection. Or if the sheer number of times he’d been rejected had numbed him to it entirely.

When he was gone, Aurelia crossed to the bar.

She hadn’t bothered to change after today’s altercation. Her hair was still braided, wisps of it loosened from fighting. I could smell blood on her clothes, especially her cloak. “Is that a sword under your cloak or...”

“Do not finish that sentence,” she cut me off.

I propped my arm on the bar and smirked at her. “Or you’ll have to kill me?”

“Are all of your jokes as old as you?” she asked with mocking sweetness.

Why was I even bothering?

As if to answer me, Aurelia swept off her cloak, revealing an almost normal outfit under it. Yes, there was still a sword strapped to her hip, but the rest was black leather that fit her tightly enough to leave little to the imagination.

And what little it left, I found myself imagining vividly. Forget Julian and his mate. Forget some broken curse and an old weapon. This was why I was bothering. Not that I would admit that to her.

Because she hated me. Despite the attraction I felt toward her, as far as I was concerned, the feeling was mutual. But some of the best sex of my life was with people who fell firmly into the category of enemy.

She sighed, throwing the cloak over the back of the stool. “Are you just going to stare at me? Or are you going to offer me a drink?”

“I wasn’t sure if you were allowed,” I told her. Picking up the bottle of Scotch, I poured another round into my glass and passed it to her.

“Do I look like the type to ask permission?” She downed her drink in one go.

No, she didn’t. She looked like the type who took what she wanted without worrying about what anyone thought. The type who didn’t hesitate when violence broke out. It might be attractive if she didn’t spew venom every time we spoke.

“Tell me something, Lysander,” she said, reaching for the bottle and refilling her glass. She pinned a hard glare on me as she relaxed into her seat. “Do you stare at everyone? Or am I just lucky?”

“I’m trying to figure you out,” I admitted. Settling back onto my stool, I grinned at her. “What’s your excuse?”

Her glass paused near her lips. “My excuse?”

“For following me around? Stalking me?” My smile widened as her nostrils flared. “Is it my good looks or my charm?”

“I haven’t noticed a surplus of either quality.” She threw back her drink and slammed the glass so hard on the counter that it cracked.

I’d gotten under her skin. Did that make us even for her stripping my ability to speak? I wasn’t sure, but I certainly enjoyed watching her squirm.

She stood to leave, but I grabbed her arm. Even through the leather of my glove, I felt her magic spark at my touch. It thrummed through her so strongly I swore I could hear it.

“Truce?” I offered, quickly pinning on, “Only for today, of course.”

“Are we at war?”

“You rendered me mute the last time we were alone. I wouldn’t call that friendly,” I said dryly.

“You were getting too friendly,” she informed me. She tugged her arm free, but for a moment, I swore she hesitated. “It’s been a while since I had to fend off a vampire at court.”

“Fend off?” I repeated.

“It’s why we wear masks.” Her throat slid. “I shouldn’t have shown you my face.”

Without thinking, I whispered, “I’m glad you did.”

“It’s considered a breach of my oath, even if Thea told me to stop wearing the fucking thing.” But she shrugged as she spoke. “She’s right, though. It’s pointless. I’m the last of my kind. Or I was. Now that the Queens have a full court, I’m sure they will demand more of us.”

---