Page 79 of Of Mercury and Mist

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When I steppedout of the limousine, lightbulbs flashed everywhere, and I shielded my eyes. This was not what I’d been expecting when Isaac said I was accompanying him to a gala. I wasn’t even certain what a “gala” was, but I’d pictured a fancy hall and rich people sipping champagne somewhere in privacy.

Turned out the event was for charity to raise money for an experimental cancer medicine from a pharmaceutical company I’d never heard of.

Issac snaked an arm around my waist and guided me across the carpet. Several of the guests exiting other vehicles were instantly recognizable, having seen them at Ipomoea, and some once at an event I’d attended while employed with the company. He seemed to recognize my discomfort and held me a little tighter as we climbed the stairs.

An invitation was passed to the attendant when we checked in, Isaac glaring at the man. With a nod, we were ushered inside and quickly became a part of the crowd, blending in.

“So, now what?” I asked Isaac, plucking a glass of champagne from a passing tray.

Soft music played in the background, under the gentle flattering lighting. Glancing around the space, I noted the soft, old-world colors and fine detailing. Crown molding and painted frescoes on the ceiling created the atmosphere of an ancient building and it felt separate from the rest of New York City, almost like a secret society. I’d driven past the building we were in several times and never really paid it much attention, ignorant of the beauty it contained.

Sipping my drink while Isaac fiddled with his cufflinks, I watched the crowd. Many people mingled and from the conversations I overheard as people walked by us, I knew the majority were involved in the medicine business.

“What is it you do, exactly?” I glanced up at the man beside me. He’d told me, “Acquisitions”, but that covered a lot of ground.

“Mostly imports,” he answered, not meeting my gaze.

“Importing what?”

“Different products; whatever is needed.”

I lowered my glass a little. “Isaac...”

He grabbed my waist and tugged me closer. I placed my drink on a sideboard just on time to protect my clothing and slid an arm around him. “Don’t you know enough? All you need to know is that I will provide for you. Anything your heart desires.” His gaze flicked downward. “Even this blue dress.”

I grinned. “It's pretty and I know it looks good on me.”

The feeling of being watched skirted over my skin and I twisted around to see Micha’s friend Kiam staring. Despite Josiah’s orders, he met my gaze head-on before focusing on the man by my side. I was uncertain if the directive to ignore me applied to Kiam, but I’d assumed it had since he was their associate.

Tearing my eyes away, I began searching for Micha. It would make sense if he were here, considering the types of guests in attendance. I’d also seen several people I recognized from Angels, and I knew this wasn’t a human-only event.

As hard as I tried, I couldn’t spot Micha.

“What was that sigh for?” Isaac leaned down, speaking softly in my ear. “Do I need to pay you more compliments? I’m still dripping down your leg.”

My face flushed and I fiddled with the dress skirt. My inner thighs were sticky after he refused to allow me to clean them. It’d surprised me, considering his obsession with cleanliness, but he’d said it would send a clear “sign”.

When I looked back up, Kiam was in front of us, the air crackling with tension between the two men. I backed away slightly as he dragged his gaze up and down Isaac.

Isaac had gifted me the small knife currently strapped to my outer thigh. The blade was only six inches long, and had a beautiful handle carved into flowers and vines and studded with garnets. It was a work of art and shortly after he’d affixed it to my leg, telling me how sexy I was, that was when he made sure to leave his release painted between my thighs.

The weapon was absolutely gorgeous. I’d hate to see it get dirty.

But I wouldn’t hesitate to use it on Micha’s friend, and I was starting to think that’s how the evening would unfold but then Kiam said, “Sure glad I’m not you.”

“Fuck off and mind your own business,” Isaac snarled.

Kiam slid his fierce gaze from Isaac to me and I rolled my eyes before I could think better of it. I thought he was going to walk right into me as he left but all I felt was the air stir by my shoulder.

“What was that about?” I clung to Isaac’s arm, watching the other man thread his way toward the entrance. Was he leaving? I sure hoped so.

His eyes darted around the room as if searching for something or someone. “Perhaps we should mingle,” he said, taking me in hand. “Don’t worry about that man; he was probably drunk.”

“He didn’t seem drunk to me. I’ve met him before.”

“Have you?” he asked, his tone suggesting he didn’t expect or want an answer. “Are you hungry? There’s food this way.”

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