I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Right, because ‘just get it for me’ isn’t suspicious at all. Why don’t you steal it yourself? Afraid of breaking a nail?”
“The high priestess would know it was me,” he hissed. “But you? You’re the perfect fall guy.”
“Oh, I’m touched. Really. Nothing says family bonding like setting up your son for magical grand larceny.”
His lips curled into what I assume he thought was a threatening smile. It looked more like gas pains. “You are the one who will steal it.”
“And what if our friendly neighborhood high priestess decides to turn me into her personal voodoo doll?”
He shrugged, the picture of fatherly concern. “You don’t know that.”
“Fantastic,” I drawled, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I love playing magical Russian roulette. It’s my favorite pastime after ticking off powerful witches and antagonizing vampire mafia bosses.”
I was walking a tightrope over a frying pan, and if I didn’t watch my step, I’d be doing a swan dive into the fiery inferno below. Talk about your rock and hard place. What choice did I have? Gianna and Valentin’s lives were resting on my shoulders, transforming me from charming rogue to supernatural Jesse James overnight.
I suppressed a bitter laugh. After all, what’s a little grand larceny, betrayal, and possible magical torture between family? Just your average day in the Dragan household. Nothing says family bonding quite like risking life, limb, and sanity for each other.
Maybe I should start pricing striped shirts and eye masks. Go full cartoon thief. Because if I was going to risk everything, I might as well look the part, right? Who knows, I might even start a new vampire fashion trend. Burglar chic could be the next big thing.
I caught Gianna staring at me, her eyes wide with worry. The sight of her concern twisted something in my gut, a mixture of guilt and determination that threatened to choke me. But I plastered on my best devil-may-care grin.
“Three times a charm,” I drawled, winking at her. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to escort my mate out of this dying party. It’s flatlining faster than my faith in humanity.”
I left my dad chuckling behind me, the sound grating on my every nerve. It took everything I had not to whirl around and rip out his larynx. My fingers twitched with the urge, but instead, I sauntered over to Gianna, draping my arm around her shoulders with practiced nonchalance.
As we headed for the door, I could feel the tension radiating off her in waves. Her scent, usually intoxicating, was now tinged with anxiety.
She scowled up at me, her brow furrowed. “What did Petar want?”
“Oh, you know, the usual. To give us his blessings, offer to officiate the wedding, plan our couples’ retreat to Transylvania. Standard father-in-law stuff,” I quipped, my tone light despite the lead weight in my stomach.
“Dimitri,” she drawled out my name, a warning in her voice.
Before she could launch into a full-scale inquisition, Ispun her around, pressing her up against the wall. The sudden movement knocked the breath out of her, her gasp of surprise music to my ears.
I crashed my lips onto hers, silencing her questions with a kiss that was equal parts desperation and desire. She struggled against me at first, her hands pushing at my chest, but I persisted. My tongue swept into her mouth, exploring, tasting, memorizing every detail as if it might be the last time.
Slowly, I felt her resistance melt away. Her body softened against mine, molding to me like she was made to fit there. Her fingers, which had been pushing me away, now curled into the fabric of my shirt, pulling me closer.
The kiss was intoxicating, drowning out the guilt and fear that threatened to consume me. For a moment, I could pretend that this was all that mattered—her, me, this connection that defied explanation.
But reality lurked at the edges of my consciousness, a persistent whisper reminding me of the precarious tightrope I was walking. I was about to join the Butch Cassidy gang, all because my lovely father didn’t see fit to give me any other options.
As I reluctantly pulled away, breathing heavily, I looked into Gianna’s dazed eyes. A pang of regret shot through me. Maybe someday she’d look at me as a Robin Hood rather than a nickel and dime thief. But for now, I’d have to settle for being the bad boy with a heart of gold—or at least a gold-plated one.
“Now,” I smirked, trying to ignore the way my heartraced, “how about we blow this popsicle stand before I’m tempted to start a conga line just to liven things up?”
She was breathless, her lips swollen from our kiss. I couldn’t help but smirk, admiring my handiwork. “Where are we going?” she asked, her voice husky with desire.
I leaned in close, my breath hot against her ear. “To my apartment,” I purred, feeling a ripple running through her body. “I want to explore every inch of you on my bed. Maybe even under it, if we’re feeling adventurous.”
I glanced over her head, catching Augustus and Louise scowling at us like we’d just kicked their puppy. I flashed them my most devilish grin and a little wave. “Looks like the chaperones are about to blow a gasket. Shall we make our daring escape before they break out the holy water?”
“Then lead me, my dark knight,” she breathed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Dark knight? Please. I’m more of a dashing rogue with great hair and a penchant for trouble.”
We slipped out the front door, the cool night air a stark contrast to the heat between us. With a dramatic flourish, I shifted into a bat, feeling my bones crackle and reform. “Race you there?” I challenged, my voice coming out as a series of high-pitched squeaks.