Page 53 of Forgotten Monsters
I grip the sink with both hands, about ready to strip again and let him have me now. Gods.
Before I egg Barron on and dare him to take me in the bathroom, the door behind him opens.
With a knowing smirk, Flynn barrels ahead with no consideration for privacy and hands me one of the masquerade masks as though it’s a corsage. He glances at Barron sideways. “Don’t worry, Scary Dude, I’ll keep close tabs on her.”
“Nottooclose,” Barron says through tight lips.
Flynn adjusts his own mask and checks himself out in the mirror. “Chill. I’m not interested.”
“I know your type. You’d fuck anything on two legs.”
A small laugh rumbles through the blond Fae. “True, but in this particular case, I have sufficient motivation not to.” The cheery way he says the words nag me.
He’s certainly not implying…
NotJules?
I mean—he’s had a wicked crush on her since the beginning, but she’s with Cole. Why is he so fucking happy? I take his outstretched arm and follow him outside the library, still reeling from Barron’s touch. Flynn’s glamor picks at loose threads in my soul. I despise him, and yet my sister completely changed her mind about him. How?
I shake the unwanted hypothesis out of my brain. Who cares about Flynn Verinos?
Fate threw a drop-dead gorgeous vengeance guru in my path. Daniel was my first and only, but Barron will exorcize his memory from me, and I’m going to let him.
* * *
Twinkle of red,purple, and yellow lights transform the new ballroom into a Mardi Gras fete. Feathers, sequins, and handcrafted masks hang on the walls, some of them enchanted to gaze back at us. The music is loud enough to muffle the conversations, a few dancers already busy in the center of the room. Tapas are being passed around by waiters wearing black livery and white masks, along with white hair pieces bursting with black feathers. I search for Jules or Lydia in the crowd.
Flynn leans in, his breath hot and heavy. “Cheer up. Our exes will totally freak out when they see us.” He tucks the invitation back inside his red jacket’s interior pocket and offers me his arm again.
I grind my teeth together. “They won’t know who I am until it’s too late. I’m wearing this stupid mask, remember?”
Flynn can be spotted a mile away, but I’m stuck in the role of the insignificant arm candy.
He guides me through the crowd, quite a few patrons stealing glances at him, whispering between themselves. “Still…picture their faces when you finally take it off. You get to fuck with your exandthe scary dude tonight. What else could be better?”
A man wearing all white brushes past us, stealing my breath, but a more thorough look confirms that it’s not Daniel. I turn to Flynn. “You’re speaking as though we’ve already won.”
“Call it blind optimism. Ooh…Sushi.” He snatches a maki from a tray and dumps it inside his mouth.
Anyone else would look unappealing or impolite cramming an oversized california roll inside his mouth, but Flynn dazzles me—and the whole room—with his glamor. He licks his thumb, and my insides curl at the urge to stand on my tiptoes and kiss him.
I growl. “Tone it down, already. Everyone’s looking at us.”
“Isn’t that the whole point?”
“It’s not time yet.” I pull him deeper into the room and snatch a champagne flute from a tray. I need liquid courage, now more than ever.
Flynn stops me. “No alcohol, remember?”
Damn. I almost forgot Jules and Lydia were spiking everyone’s drinks with Deveraux’s spell. I discard the untouched flute discreetly, scour the room, and finally find Darkwood—and Daniel—on the other side of the dance floor. They chat near the buffet, a couple of Magisterium agents guarding the door behind them. Melanie looks gorgeous on Daniel’s arm, her white dress and rose-gold mask flawless. I swallow hard. The goth chick I knew from school is certainly gone, and it enrages me how good they look together.
My mother joins Darkwood, wearing a similar fashion, and my jaw clenches.
She’s alive and well, laughing with the girl that replacedme.
Electricity buzzes on top of my skin.
Flynn blocks my line of sight. “Easy. You need to chill, witch, or that dress—along with everyone here—will get fried.” He points to the bar in the opposite corner of the room. “There’s Jules.”
