Page 66 of The Devil's Daughter

“Oh, and before I go…” He lifts the keyring from his belt and peels off two keys, which he hands to each of us. “So you can get back in for your things later.”

When the door clicks shut behind him, Elle starts to ask, “Is it just me, or is he just a littletooon point?”

Drake shushes her with a shake of his head, then whispers, “He’s just doing his job. We know who to look out for already, anyway.”

“How long until we can go down?” Elle asks. “I can smell the food already, and I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“Soon,” I say. “As soon as we get word from the valet that the first guests have arrived.”

“Want me to keep you occupied?” Drake asks, propping himself on the edge of the table and leaning down to cup Elle’s cheek. He starts to brush his lips across hers, and her breath hitches, but she turns away quickly.

“Nope. You’ll mess up my perfect makeup if you kiss me.”

He lets out a growl that goes straight to my groin, but recovers and nuzzles against her throat instead. Elle’s eyelids flutter closed, and she sighs as he kisses her neck, then leans back, admiring her bodice.

“This fucking dress,” he mutters. He lifts a hand to trace a fingertip over the perfect mound of the top of one breast, then bends and kisses her there too.

“Drake,” Elle says. “You’re not making it any easier on me, you know. Let’s survive tonight. If we catch the guy, we can celebrate, but not until then.”

“You’ll be ready for us, right?” he asks, pulling back, but still cupping her cheek and gently stroking it with his thumb.

“You’d better believe it,” she says. Her red lips curl into a smile that makes Baz utter a soft curse beside me.

Fucking hellis right, brother.

34

Elle

Ben and Bazseem to fade into the shadows once we head down to the pavilion where the gala is set to take place. I’m a little disappointed they don’t remain close. I know they’re still there, but I thought they’d do more than just be bodyguards tonight. But Drake is acting as a dutiful date, and I suppose it would be overkill if all three of them were hovering around me the entire time, especially with my brothers due to arrive at any moment.

“Do you need anything?” Drake asks, leaning close to my ear.

“I’m good. I can take care of myself.”

“I know. But I’m going to be preoccupied when the guests arrive, so I don’t want you to feel neglected.”

“Trust me, I’ll be fine. Especially now.” I point to the entrance, where a large group has just arrived. Drake looks and his eyes grow wide.

“Did they take abus? I didn’t expect them to arrive en masse,” he says.

Half my family has just arrived, and my heart leaps into my throat at the sight. I rush over, grinning. Maddox is the first to sweep me into his arms.

“Good god. Who are you, and what’ve you done with my sister?” Maddox says, squeezing me tight for a beat before holding me at arm’s length. He gives me a critical once-over, his eyes narrowing. I brace myself for him to disapprove of my dress, but Celeste interrupts him when she pulls me into a tight hug.

“You look beautiful, Elle. Don’t let these idiots tell you otherwise.” She glares back at Maddox, who just shakes his head and smiles. His smile quickly turns to a scowl at Leo, who’s unabashedly checking me out, much to Celeste’s amusement.

Mason purses his lips as he hugs me. “You’re gorgeous, Elle,” he says in a gruff tone.

“He knows he can’t say a thing,” his fiancée, Callie, says, gesturing at her equally low-cut gown. She’s a vision in red, her long blonde hair flowing around her bare shoulders. “Wait’ll your mom sees how grown-up you look.”

“Is she coming?” I ask, eyes widening. “I didn’t think she was well enough.”

“She rode with Flores and Elena,” Mason says. “We pretty much took a motorcade down the 405. I think theirs was the last car. Of course, with our two best babysitters attending, we had to enlist Mrs. Vega from across the street to watch Zoe for the night.”

“I can’t imagine she minds a bit,” I say. “Mrs. Vega’s house was always a safe haven for us growing up.” One of my few regrets is losing touch with Mrs. Vega’s daughter, Rose, who was one of my closest friends in high school. We still email once in a while, but that’s it.

“And your mother is fine,” Callie says. “She’s my star patient. I’m even thinking of writing a paper on the benefits of dance as therapy for stroke victims. I can tell you about it another time, though.”

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