Page 9 of Tempest

“You sure this is the place?” I ask Ardyn.

“Yeah. Why?”

I work my jaw. “Have you ever been to an auction before?”

“No, but my … contact … says this is one of the better ones.”

Then I finally get it. “Where’s the shit?”

“The what?”

“The artifacts you were wetting your panties over. I don’t see them.”

“Oh. The auction’s happening in the basement."

I finally spare her a glance. “Does that seem like the usual to you?”

Ardyn shrugs. “I doubt they want to showcase such priceless pieces to the street.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.” But I’m unconvinced. And suspicious.

My phone brightens the interior between us, and I glance down. Rio’s using shouty caps, probably shit-faced, asking where the fuck I am.

Good question.

When I don’t fill the car with more chitchat, Ardyn fidgets in the bucket seat.

“Okay. Well. Bye.”

“See you,” I say, flicking two fingers in salute.

These girls have been attached to the hip since they were fifteen. My sister’s not an idiot most of the time. Safety in numbers. They’ll be fine.

I get a nice visual of Ardyn’s ass as she slips out of my low-riding car. She stumbles on her heels as she stands, cursing under her breath as she shuts my door with a light click.

She’s the most elegant, doe-eyed, fawn-legged creature I’ve ever seen, and I can’t take my eyes off her as she rounds the front of my car, steps up to the curb, and joins the other two with a wobbly gait.

A gust of wind picks up the tendrils of her long, sand-brown hair and those floating strands imprint the remembrance of her clutching my chest and smelling like freshly turned earth.

Her sharp cheekbone is exposed, milk-white in contrast to the moss green of her eyes. I find myself tracing the elegant line of her neck and the angle of her collarbone, wanting to mar that flawlessness with bite marks.

As if she can sense my thoughts, Ardyn shivers.

I smile in the darkened interior, showing teeth.

In a surprisingly thoughtful move, Mila shakes off her jacket and helps Ardyn into it, her lips moving a mile a minute as she talks Ardyn’s ear off.

Mila’s interruption is enough to shake me out of my trance and gun the engine, drawing their gazes once more.

I lift my fingers from the wheel in a see ya gesture before spinning it to move back into traffic.

The girls head into the art show, linking arms and settling the strange wriggling in my gut.

A flash of movement on the road catches my eye. I slam on the brakes.

The limo that almost took one of my headlights stops parallel, blocking my exit.

Snarling, I push open my door.

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