Page 136 of Terror at the Gates

“I like them,” he said.

The compliment made me blush. But simultaneously, I wondered if he was lying.

“Thank you,” I said, realizing I hadn’t even registered his appearance.

He was always well-dressed, but there was something about seeing him in a three-piece suit that did things to me. This one was particularly stunning, fitted to his slim frame. The black fabric had a warm tone, and I couldn’t tell if that was because of its shine or the cream color of his button-down. His tie brought the whole look together, a paisley pattern in black and gold.

“I like your suit,” I said.

“Thanks,” he said. “Fawna said I had to wear color tonight.”

Fawna was Zahariev’s housekeeper, but she had opinions on everything, including appropriate dress.

“So you chose…cream?”

Zahariev glanced down at his tie. “And gold,” he said defensively.

I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling.

“Are you ready?”

“Just let me get my heels,” I said.

As I made my way to my bedroom, Cherub left, sauntering into the living room for a look at Zahariev.

“Well, hello,” I heard him say, and she meowed in return.

I slipped on my shoes, winding the straps around my calves, then retrieved a set of black lace gloves, a fur stole and a small beaded bag from my closet. I hoped the gloves might hide the bandage on my wrist. The stole and bag were two of only a few things I had left over from my previous life in Hiram, and I’d kept them for this reason.

When I returned, Zahariev stood in the middle of myliving room, cradling Cherub, massaging a spot on her chest. Her head flopped toward me, and I pursed my lips.

“You are such a tease,” I said.

“Me or the cat?” Zahariev asked.

“The fact that you had to ask for clarification says a lot.”

I walked up to him and took Cherub, holding her at eye level.

“Be good for Coco,” I said before kissing her head and lowering her to sit on the arm of the couch.

I wrapped the fur around my shoulders and followed Zahariev to the door. As I stepped out onto the balcony, I noticed the streetlights flashing. It was eerie, made worse by the dark and the heaviness in the air. I almost wished it would rain again. Maybe it would ease the weight.

“That’s been happening all day,” I said.

“It’s probably your mother,” said Zahariev. “Using up all the energy for her fucking party.”

I laughed but pulled the stole tighter. A chill had settled on my skin, and I was eager for the warmth of Zahariev’s SUV.

He held the door open for me, and I slid inside.

“Evening, Miss Leviathan,” said Felix, turning to look at me. He let out a low whistle. “Well, aren’t you a vision?”

My face warmed at his comment, and I smiled. “Thank you, Felix.”

“No need to thank me for saying something true,” he said as Zahariev entered the vehicle on the other side.

“You know where to go,” Zahariev said, though he didn’t sound any more enthused than I felt.

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