Page 107 of Bite
After glancing toward the clock, James stands, smooths his jacket, and offers me his hand. I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. Together, we cross to the double doors that open onto the balcony overlooking the ballroom.
The noise swells as we approach, the music shifting from classical to something orchestral with a pulse, the slow build like a growing storm.
I glance up at him, eyes tracing the sharp lines of his profile. “Ready to face the monsters?”
“You and I both know we’ll be the most dangerous things in that room,” he replies with a smug smile. “You have your weapon?”
I part the slit of my skirt, revealing the small silver dagger holstered to my thigh.
Not that I’ll need it– we’ve managed to keep our bond under wraps– but still. Just in case.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, then pushes the doors open.
We step out onto the balcony, hand in hand. Conversation dies mid-sentence, a hundred vamps and donors turning their heads upward in unison.
Dresses and tuxedos in all shades of red spill across the dance floor, distinguishing the donors as prey. We’re clad in black, meant to blend with the predators. Not that we ever could reallyblendas the hosts of this particular soiree.
James’ arm slips around my waist, guiding me toward the grand staircase. A month ago, I would’ve been terrified of tripping in front of all these people. Now, I practically glide down the stairs, like I was made for this. I guess that in a sense, I was.
At the bottom, the crowd parts, creating a clear path through the glittering chaos.
Smile, darling. Show them you’re not afraid.
James’ voice brushes through my mind, low and velvet-smooth, his lips grazing my temple.
“I’m not,” I whisper honestly, lips spreading into a genuine smile.
As long as he’s beside me, I know I never will be.
We cross the room together, and the first to break ranks is Bex. She charges toward us in a sinfully short red dress with a champagne flute clutched tightly in one hand.
I barely pivot in time for her to launch herself into my arms.
“You look like a Bond villain’s girlfriend,” she breathes, squeezing me tight before stepping back. “Which is obviously a compliment.”
“You look like a walking felony,” I shoot back, giving her a slow, dramatic once-over.
“Don’t distract me with flattery,” she laughs, waving me off. “You’re still not off the hook for skipping our last shopping trip.”
“I was busy helping plan all…this,” I say, waving toward the glittering room.
“Don’t you two havepeoplefor that?” Bex asks, wrinkling her nose.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, but I wanted to help out.”
“Noble of you,” she mutters, scanning the space. “Well, you’ve outdone yourself. I took a wrong turn earlier and ended up in a bathroom with a velvet chaise lounge that definitely wasn’t there last time.”
“Some guests require amenities,” James cuts in dryly.
Bex makes a face. “Yeah, I ran into one on the way out,” she says, nodding toward a woman in emerald across the room. “She offered me a line of coke and asked if I’d ever been fisted.”
“She’s from the European contingent,” James murmurs. “They tend to be… unfiltered.”
“Noted,” Bex snorts, then turns to me, brows raised. “So, we still on for our in-home spa weekend?”
I blink. “Our… what?”
James leans in, voice pitched low. “Thought you could use a little relaxation while I’m away on business.”
