“I do love a bit of drama,” Xavier says, reanimating—not stoned then.
“Especially when it’s not our family drama,” Gabriel adds.
Octavia huffs at us.“Best behaviour when we reach the palace.”She looks at each of us.Gabriel shoves a middle finger up at her from between the pages of his book.
I smirk.But Octavia snaps her gaze at me.
“What?Chill out.I drank like at least one and a half women before we left.And frankly, I’ve probably inhaled half that princess’s bodyguard.I’m fine, aside from needing a shower.”I give her an exaggerated shrug as if I don’t know exactly what she’s worried about.
Octavia’s expression tightens.“Need I remind you that this trip is?—”
I hold my hand up.“You don’t, as it happens.I was winding you up, but it seems you lost your sense of humour about one long, palatial driveway ago.”
Red’s lips quirk and it takes a feat of fucking colossal strength for me to stifle the laugh tickling the back of my throat.Octavia really isn’t in the mood.But she’s such an easy wind-up.
I sigh to myself.Fighting with her is my favourite past time.“Octavia, come on.I literally went to that blonde piece of ass’s rescue.It’s not exactly my normal mode of operation, is it?Frankly, I’d rather have bent her over the bar and fucked her into oblivion.But?—”
Octavia’s mouth drops open, a simmering flicker under her gaze.
I waft a hand at her.“Best behaviour.I got it.”
She presses her lips thin but seems to recognise the truth in my words.It really isn’t like me to rescue some random chick.There’s just something about that princess, like that night in the Whisper Club.But I won’t be telling my siblings that.
I’d put money on the fact that Penelope is one of those girls who wears a mask.She makes out like she’s all hard and bitchy on the outside when really, she’s a quivering wreck on the inside—or in my arms.High-maintenance game player.That’s what she is.
If nothing else, Octavia should recognise I meant it when I said I’d behave.She asked us to help smooth the political tensions between our cities, and Octavia doesn’t ask for help lightly.I’ll be good not just for her, but Red too, given she’s my boss.
To be fair, she has mediated things between Octavia and me over the last few weeks, and dare I say, we’re all getting along for the first time in centuries.Hell, maybe ever.
It’s weird.It makes me want to stab things.I much prefer when we’re discordant, at least the arguing is fun.
Maybe I will ‘accidentally’ spill the princess’s secret and fuck some shit up at the wedding—you know, just for entertainment value.
Octavia’s expression turns to a glower, as if she can read my mind.
Perhaps not.
The carriage draws to a halt, the door opening to a fresh evening, warmth glimmering beneath the air.And the thick tang of metal.Penelope made it back then.
We’re stood outside an extraordinary building, though there’s a distinct lack of gargoyles on the doors.I glance at Octavia.Her shoulders are tight, her back ramrod straight.
Xavier slips out of the carriage and stiffens.“I smell?—”
“Blood?”Gabriel breathes.
“It’s me…” I say.“Or maybe Penelope is inside.She was caked in it, too.”
“When did everyone last eat?”Octavia hisses.
There’s a resounding chorus of “Today” and her shoulders loosen.
“Can everyone keep it together?”she asks.
When everyone nods, she climbs the palace steps up to an enormous arched door.We trail after her, a gaggle of monsters in amongst dainty magicians.It’s been a thousand years since we’ve mixed like this, and sure, it’s only us four—well, four and a half if you count Red now that she drinks blood—and we’re old enough and controlled enough not to eat our way through New Imperium.
But still.
This is going to be quite the write up, given how this evening started.The guard at the front door of the palace hesitates, his gaze flicking between the five of us and pausing on me.His Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows deep, then he takes his life in his hands and lowers his gaze, head and torso in a deep and thoroughly welcoming bow.I won’t lie.My eyes flit straight to his carotid, my tongue skittering out.I scold myself silently.It’s the scent of iron, all tangy and rich in the air.Get it together, Dahlia.
