Page 94 of Demon Kissed
Ignoring him, I focus on Raz, still hovering over our table.
“What are you doing here?” I ask through clenched teeth. “How did the school even agree to pay for all of this?”
“As Adam said, we decided to treat the team to dinner to…commemorate their loss.” He offers me a tight-lipped smile, though his eyes still emanate a red-hot rage. “And as for your second question, Zolroth is paying for it, just as he’s paying for the hotel. Only the best for…” He trails off with a pointed look at me before releasing a bark of dry laughter.
But my mind is still stuck on his declaration. Zolroth paid for us to be in a fancy hotel? For me?
Before I can voice one of the numerous thoughts in my head, Raz continues, “But isn’t it just the strangest coincidence that we ended up at the same place?” He laughs hollowly before claiming a seat at the end of his table, only a few feet away from me. “I think it’s fate.”
“Fate is an abstract illusion that implies that free will doesn’t exist,” Wade pipes up, using his middle finger to push his glasses back into place.
“Don’t be so emo, fucker,” Alanna huffs from the seat beside him.
“…Zolroth,” Janie’s nasally voice captures my attention, “I didn’t expect you to come.” I spin my head so fast that I get whiplash, just in time to see her place a hand on his muscular forearm. “I had no idea that you were cousins with Kastros and Mr. D. But I’m happy you’re here…” When she lowers her hand to his thigh, I see red.
“Katrina?” William snaps his fingers in my face to redirect my attention back to him. Irritation distorts his traditionally handsome features before he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and adopts a happy grin once more. “Were you listening to me?”
It’s official—I’m on a date from Hell.
32
I can’t focuson William.
The love of my life is attempting to engage me in conversation, but my traitorous eyes keep flickering to the table beside ours.
Alanna is angrily snapping at Kastros for the way he “allowed them to fail.” Her words, not mine. Van is sitting with his back to me, arms crossed over his chest as he reclines. Even from this distance, I can practically taste the pheromones he emits as the pretty waitress repeatedly tries to capture his attention. At one point, she goes as far as to undo the first few buttons of her white shirt, but his attention never strays from the bread basket. I wish I could see his expression—what is he thinking? Does hewantthis woman’s attention?
Raz is still scowling at the end of the table, looking unreasonably handsome in his dress shirt and khaki pants. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him out of jeans and a T-shirt before, so I allow my eyes to wander unashamedly over his perfect physique.
And Akor…
He’s glaring at our table, one of his hands gripping his butter knife while the other clenches around his steak knife. He has his cloth napkin tucked into the collar of his shirt, and the crazy bastard isn’t even blinking as he levels William with such a ferocious, incandescent glare that a lesser man would’ve shit himself. Hell, I’m not even on the receiving end of it, and I kind of want to pee my pants.
As I watch, transfixed, he begins to stab at his breadstick with his butter knife before using his steak knife to pantomime cutting his own throat. Through it all, his eyes bore holes into William’s oblivious profile.
“…and I said, ‘I don’t know if I can believe that.’” William laughs enthusiastically at his own joke, and I muster a weak one of my own. Honestly, I haven’t heard any of his story, but it’s better to pretend and feign laughter than admit the truth.
“That’s…funny.” I take another sip of my water before stabbing my fork into the pasta dish William ordered for me. It’s…okay, I guess. Not something I would normally get. I much prefer plain dishes instead of fancy-ass meals that seem to be trying too hard.
If William notices how distracted I’ve become, he doesn’t comment on it. He actually doesn’t comment on anything besides himself.
Huh.
How come I never realized how self-absorbed he was?
Maybe because you’ve been blinded by your feelings for him,a snide voice jibes in my head.
It’s like I’ve been looking at William through rose-tinted glasses, the color designed to make everything even more beautiful and ethereal in appearance. Only now, the glasses have been removed, allowing me to see what has always been in front of my face. And the real William? I don’t like him very much.
The warm and fuzzies which once resided in my stomach whenever I looked at him are nowhere to be seen. I can’t even muster the usual healthy dose of lust I’ve felt since middle school. Sure, I can admit he’s handsome in a preppy-boy kind of way, but he doesn’t make my heart palpitate and my blood race.
Not anymore.
“…you’re so funny,” Janie coos, and my hand tightens on the fork when, out of the corner of my eye, I watch her put her spindly fingers once more on Zolroth’s thigh. He immediately dispatches them, a frown marring his beautiful face, before laughing slightly.
“It wasn’t a joke, love,” he murmurs, his British accent causing her to practically swoon.
Love?
