Page 11 of The Way You Bite
“Open the gate, or I’m driving into it. You can explain that to my father and fiancé. I know you want to have a one-on-one with Ambrose DiFalco.”
He grumbled as he stepped away from the car, but the electrified iron monstrosity started its slow mechanical grind to open.
She executed a poor parallel between two cars at the end of the long triple-parked line around the circular drive. Before she got out, she ate two Hershey’s Kisses.
Outside her car, she steeled herself. She opened her purse for one more fortifying Kiss. The October air remained unseasonably warm and sticky. A delicate breeze whistled through the trees, sending more than a few dead leaves airborne.
The moon mesmerized her—not quite full, but luminous and mysterious. Something deep in her gut shifted. A wild urge to run sent her heart into a gallop. She shook her head at the anomalous instinct and frowned at the moon. Its glow was the same hue as Lexan’s eyes. A woman could lose herself in that pale hue, preferably while lying on his naked tattooed chest. Okay, that thought needed to go into the locked vault ofdon’t-ever-think-that-again.
He was a wolf. Since birth, she’d been taught wolves were savages who’d viciously dismembered her mother when Vee had been barely two months old. Dominic had annihilated the one who supposedly killed her mother and then waged this never-ending war. She should want to plan Lexan’s execution, but the war’s instigating event reeked of a setup.
Neither Lexan nor Eric had acted like the barbarian monsters she’d been led to expect. Instead, they’d been civilized but wary, like all werewolves she’d encountered.
Lexan fascinated her. Maybe it was his insane good looks or that he was older than any being she’d ever met. A crush was one thing, but this felt far more powerful than a giggly teenager infatuation. Were he vampire, Ambrose might even encourage her into an affair to put them on even ground, but only after their marriage. Even then, Ambrose wouldn’t do that until she produced an heir. Pregnancy meant she’d need to actually have sex. With Ambrose. She shuddered with revulsion.
Her mind funneled pictures of Lexan back into her mind, to calm her, as if sex with him was right.
Get over him. A beautiful veneer rarely housed a worthwhile soul. Both vamps and wolves specialized in gorgeous packaging. Well, except her.
Lexan wasn’t done with her. The thought simultaneously unnerved and excited her, even if he did plan to blackmail her into something. She’d probably do whatever he requested—and not because she’d be happy to hop into bed with him. Wolves made her uneasy, but Dominic’s reaction to the news she’d assisted wolves more than once in the not-so-distant past petrified her. She could probably talk her way out of the incident tonight, at least she hoped.
No more thinking about King Werewolf.Others at this party had the rare gift of mind reading. She couldn’t get caught focusing on the glorious abs of one’s perceived worst enemy, even if it was a worthy vision.
Inside the foyer of the plantation-style mansion, a member of the waitstaff pointed her toward the great hall, as if she didn’t know the location of the reception based on the noise level. Countless tables decorated with expensive china and crystal accommodated the hundred or so guests. The toasts to the married couple had already commenced. She entered just as someone relayed a cheek-flaming misadventure of a time when her sister, Brooke, had a crush on a human in high school. Brooke accidentally killed the kid by taking too much blood while they made out in the car. Only a roomful of vamps would find that funny.
“Velvet. Over here. I saved you a spot,” a female voice loudly whispered her way.
“It’s Vee, Aunt Carol. Your dress is gorgeous. Is that Versace?” No one could resist a slight infatuation with Carol. She definitely scored a ten on any vamp rating scale and didn’t look to have aged a day beyond thirty, even though she was at least three centuries old. Her independence and unwillingness to keep her opinions secret kept her off the marriage market, at least according to her.
“It’s Louis Vuitton. I found it in France a few months ago.” Carol kissed her on both cheeks and then smashed Vee’s head against her voluptuous bosom.
Vee sat and sipped at the blood already poured into the goblet at her place. Expensive stuff. Tasty.
Carol yawned and whispered, “This is dull as boar shit. There’s not even a promising male to amuse me.” She glanced around. “Asswipes, all of them. I can’t wait to return home where at least the males are honest incorrigibles. They don’t hide behind masks of righteousness. Oh, dear. Here comes your brother. I love him to pieces, but rumor is he wants to fix me up with a business associate. If I wanted a mate, I’d find him myself. Excuse me.” Carol rose and glided out the French doors into the dark of night on the veranda.
“You didn’t want to do a toast to Brooke?” Trace asked behind her.
She whirled in her chair to glance up at her brother.
Trace took Carol’s empty chair and sipped the abandoned blood. A fond smile curved his lips when he gazed at Vee.
She returned his smile. How she’d missed him. He may be general of the Squad and answerable to Dominic, but he would always be her brother. In this den of pit vipers fixated on war, he’d chartered a taciturn course, remaining coolheaded when others got violent. Some thought him surly and aloof, but he never cared about other’s opinion. He killed when he had to, fought when he deemed it right, and kept his own counsel.
He inclined his wineglass toward her dress. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks. You enjoying yourself tonight?”
He shrugged. His body tensed as he leaned forward and said low, “You should go home. Dominic has plans that aren’t good for you.”
“Does he ever havegoodplans?” Her gaze darted to Dominic at the head table. Clan heads swarmed him, each waiting their turn to kiss Dominic’s left pinky ring, affirming allegiance.
“Some relish the thought of you two fighting again.” Trace’s face smoothed over as he straightened in his chair and made eye contact with his first lieutenant, who claimed the seat across from her. Hsu-Li scrutinized her.
“Hsu-Li, you look nice.” She pasted on a demure smile for the massive Asian vamp across the table and pretended to be breathless. Flattery worked best when dealing with the guy. He loved himself above all else and remained under the delusion every female found him irresistible.
“As do you, Lady Scarpa. That’s a pretty dress.” Hsu-Li broke into an amused smile and scanned her as if she was a prized pet. The title should command a lot more respect, but all knew the tension between she and her father. Most interpreted her fiancé’s frequent “business trips” as reason to doubt her ability to keep his interest long enough for him to follow through on marriage. She’d be relieved if he called it off, but Ambrose would use her as cover for as long as possible. He let her do what she wanted in exchange for her silence.
Secrets. The holy bond on which their matrimony would be founded.
“Thank you.” She lowered her eyes modestly while hate simmered an ulcer in her stomach.
Trace nodded toward the head table. “He wants to speak with you.”
Dominic’s green laser stare trapped her. His lips drooped into a frown. She caught a flash of thought from Dominic.
Her father knew about King Werewolf’s visit.
