When I reach them, the man has her pinned. His fingers are wrapped around her forearm, his mouth too close to her ear. He’s saying something about “making it worth her while” and “private tours,” voice low and greasy.
Eve sees me first. Her lips twitch, just a fraction. Relief.
I step in, close enough that my chest grazes the man’s shoulder.
“Excuse me.”
He turns, annoyed, then realizes who I am. The annoyance melts into something softer. Fear, maybe. Or at least respect for the hierarchy.
He doesn’t let go of Eve.
I look at his hand, then at him. “She’s not yours to touch.”
He laughs, nervous, but doesn’t back down. “Just wanted to say hello. She’s the guest of honor, right?”
I smile, all teeth. “And now you’ve said it. Let go.”
He blinks, squeezes her wrist tighter. “You know who I am?”
I don’t answer. I don’t give a flying fuck who he is.
I look at Eve, then put my hand on her back, fingers spreading over her spine.
I lean in, close enough to smell the alcohol on the man’s breath. “Let go, or I break your fingers.”
It’s not a threat. It’s a fact.
He holds my gaze, but I can see the panic starting to bloom behind his eyes. His grip loosens. He lets go, steps back, hands up.
“My apologies,” he says, voice suddenly very clear, very precise. “No offense meant.”
“Oh offense taken. Now scurry away before I make good on my promise.”
He slinks away, vanishing into the crowd.
I keep my hand on Eve’s back. She is trembling, but only a little.
“You good?” I ask.
She nods. “Didn’t want to make a scene.”
“You didn’t. He’s not worth it.”
“Why do they hate us so much?” she says suddenly.
“They don’t hate us. They hate what we remind them of.”
She thinks about it, then purses her lips. “What’s that?”
“That they can bleed.”
She looks up at me, and the mask cracks. “Are you going to bleed for me, Colton?”
“I’d allow them to bleed me dry if it meant saving you.”
Her answering blush is everything.
Chapter 17: Eve
