Page 58 of An Acquired Taste

I’m on my own… and I’m not even wearing my silver, since I didn’t expect to encounter any vampires in LA. I remember Benjamin’s lessons. He once insisted thatmannerswould keep me safe, but I have something more than that to protect me now.

“Let go of me,” I say. “You are well aware that I am under contract with Sebastian de Celeste.”

More heads turn our way at the name. Alexander’s smile falters. Even in the chaos of the club, people are watching us with interest. I know the Celeste name won’t gain me any friends here, but I hope that it will instill some wary respect.

I may not know much about vampire history, but I know that Celeste won the war.

“I am Amelia Burton, a valentine under the protection of the Celeste Court,” I say, “and I will be leaving now.”

I pull my wrist away—and after a glance at the other vampires watching, Alexander lets go of me.

Then I make a break for it.

There’s a staircase on the other side of the door, and a blessed taste of fresh air. As fresh as LA gets, anyway. I suck in a greedy gulp of it before I stumble up and onto the street. I run until I can’t feel the bass in my skin anymore, and duck into a twenty-four-seven coffee shop.

Once I stop shaking, I fumble to get my phone out of my purse. The screen blurs in my vision; it takes me two attempts to call the contact I’m looking for. “Hey,” I say when it finally goes through, my voice coming out slurred and shaky. “I know you hate me right now, but…”

Chapter Thirty

Maisy drives me back to her apartment in silence. She came when I called her because she’s my sister, but it’s obvious that she’s still wounded by the fact I lied to her too. And I’m still angry that she jeopardized my position as a valentine.

When the car rolls to a stop, I stay in my seat with my eyes shut. My drunkenness has already transitioned into a hangover, leaving my head pounding and my stomach churning. I don’t want to move.

My sister takes off her seat belt. “Let’s get you into bed.”

“Just leave me here to rot,” I grumble.

“You want me to drag you? Because I will.”

I sigh. “What happened to the sweet little sister I remember?”

“I dunno, what happened to the older sister who told me the truth?”

I sigh, unclick my seat belt, and open the car door.

I’m silent as I follow Maisy inside and to the guest room. She opens the door and takes a deep breath. I brace myself for more arguing. We might as well have one of those knock-down-drag-out sisterly fights to top off the night.

Then she whirls around and throws her arms around me in a fierce embrace. I hug her back, chomping down on my suddenly wobbly lower lip and telling myself not to cry.

“Thank you,” she says, her face pressed against my shoulder. “I… I saw what this place costs. I never would’ve been able to afford it without you. And I know you never would’ve been able to afford it without your… without becoming a valentine.” She pulls back and looks up at me, her eyes watering in a way that almost makes my own spill over. “But… please tell me you didn’t do that for me. That you didn’t put up with Sebastian for me and that’s why all of this happened and you couldn’t tell me and—”

I pull her in for another hug, murmuring comfort against her hair to stop the outpouring of panicked words. “No, Maisy, no. Honestly, I…” I swallow, fighting a surge of fresh pain as I think of Sebastian’s dark eyes, his long cold fingers twined with mine. “I did it for the money to support both of us, yes, but there were a lot of things I could’ve done for that. I chose that path because I wanted to. And it was such a roller coaster with Sebastian, but…” My voice trembles. “I… I really, really liked him. I wouldn’t have stayed with him if I didn’t.”

We stay embracing for several seconds. Then she finally pulls back, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“I’m still mad that you didn’t tell me the truth,” she says.

“Well, I’m still mad that you brought up my hot boss-slash-romantic-interest’s dead ex.”

“That’s fair.” She bites her lip. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Now…” A hint of mischief creeps into her expression. “Can I get some of the juicy details you’ve been withholding?”

I laugh tearily. “Please tell me you have some wine?”

“I don’t think you need any more wine,” she says, giving me a once-over. “But how about some ice cream?”

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