Page 8 of Trick Me
“Oh,” I breathe. “Oh, that’s dangerous. I could drink five more.”
“Right? I can feel my inhibitions dissolving. This is fantastic.” Sera takes another sip. “I might actually tell Rich how I really feel tonight.”
“You mean instead of just jumping him?”
“I can do both. I’m a multitasker.”
“Speaking of Rich…” I start, but Sera’s already gone rigid beside me, her grip on her glass tightening.
“Don’t look behind us,” she says.
So, naturally, I turn around.
Richard Voss is crossing the room toward us, and I hate him a little bit for how good he looks doing it. Hemoves through the crowd like a god, people stepping aside. Tall enough to tower over more, built like someone who kills professionally but makes it look easy. His hair is dark and a little too long. His eyes are nearly black.
He’s wearing a tailored suit the color of midnight, because of course he is.
“He’s coming this way,” I whisper.
“I know,” Sera whispers back. “Do I look okay? Is my lipstick smudged? Can you tell I’ve been thinking about him naked for two months?”
“Yes to all three, but in a good way.”
“Hello, little witch.” He stops directly in front of Sera, ignoring me completely, which is fine, because the intensity of his focus on her is makingmeblush.
“You absolute bastard,” Sera breathes, but she’s already leaning toward him. “Two fucking months without a word.”
“I missed you too,” he says softly, and then his hands are in her hair, her arms are around his neck, and they’re kissing like the world is ending.
Not a polite “hello” kiss. Not even an “I’ve missed you” kiss. This is an “I’m going to devour you, and you’re going to thank me for it” kiss. His hand fists in her elaborate updo, probably destroying hours of work. Her nails dig into his shoulders hard enough that I’m concerned for the suit. Someone behind us whistles. Someone else applauds.
They don’t care.
When they finally come up for air, Sera’s lipstick is somehow intact. Definitely magic.
“Erynn,” she gasps without looking away from him, “I’m going to?—”
“Go.” I wave them off. “I’ll be fine. Try not to destroy any furniture. This place looks expensive.”
“No promises,” Rich adds, and the look he gives her should come with a warning label. He nods at me once, the most acknowledgment I’ve ever gotten from him, then leads Sera away with a hand on her lower back that’s somehow more intimate than the kiss.
“Have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” I call after them.
And then I’m alone at a bar in a fairy-tale mansion, surrounded by strangers in masks and shadows, holding a drink that tastes heavenly.
“Another?” the bartender asks, and there’s sympathy in his shifting eyes.
“What’s good for ‘my best friend just abandoned me for her mysterious, probably assassin boyfriend and I haven’t been to a party in years’?”
He considers this seriously, lips pinching to one side. “Phoenix Fire. Burns away the awkwardness, gives you confidence to mingle.”
“Sold.”
He pours something that’s actually on fire. It’sbeautiful and terrifying, gold and red swirling together in the glass.
“How do I…” I gesture at the flames.
“Just drink through them. They won’t burn if you’re meant to be here.”
