Now she scowls like she smells something bad. “Oh Fiona… you know what I think?”
I’m afraid to ask. “What?”
“I think that life has handed you a raw deal. I think you’re marrying Roman because he asked. I think the trauma of losing your sister has made you feel like you have no control over your life, and so you’ve fallen into a pattern of reacting rather than directing what happens to you. I think your lack of agency over your own life is the reason you haven’t been able to write as Alex Rogue since the accident. Alex had agency. She was a woman who made things happen. I think you’re marrying Roman because he’s an easy answer to your problems, but maybe you need to find your innerAlex again. You’re about to bind your life to this man. This man you hardly know. This man you don’t love.”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair, my skin feeling too tight beneath her scrutiny. I’m saved when the food arrives. “I’m not one of your characters, Vivian. Stop analyzing my motivations. My reasons for marrying Roman are… complex. Far more complex than because he asked. I love the idea of having a family again. Roman is very close to his father and Donovan.”
“Who’s Donovan?”
“He’s this man who is literally always with his dad, Stefan. Roman says he’s just a friend. His father’s best friend. Like an uncle, I guess.”
Vivian cuts into her steak, suddenly wide-eyed. “As much as I am now painfully curious about the ‘very close friendship’ of the elder Cifarelli, let’s get back to you and Roman. Before I stand behind you at that altar tomorrow, I need to know that you’re not making a huge mistake. What else besides financial security makes you believe this marriage will work?”
I expected Viv would have questions. As writers and introverts, we live relatively isolated lives and aren’t the type of friends who see each other or even chat every day. Admittedly, I’ve been sparse with her on the details of my relationship with Roman because I didn’t want this type of scrutiny. But considering she flew all the way to France to stand up in our wedding, I owe her an explanation.
So I think about my time with Roman and what drew me to him. “He’s hardworking and seems to genuinely care about me. I mean, he came on strong and pursuedme like no man ever has before. Oh, and he’s read all my books. That’s how we met. He recognized me in a bookstore and told me he’s a huge Alex Rogue fan. Read the entire series. I know you mean well and you want me to say I’m head over heels for this guy, but honestly, our story is more of a slow burn. You are right about one thing though—Marion’s death changed me. Since the accident, I don’t have the magic like before, not about anything. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am reacting to what’s in front of me. Maybe I’m going along with where the universe drags me. So what. I’m tired Vivian. I can’t have the type of feelings you’re talking about with Roman because I’m not capable of them right now. Perfect doesn’t exist, and I don’t have the fight in me to wait for it anymore. This is what I want. It’s what’s best for me.”
With a slow shake of her head, she studies her food, pushing it around her plate with her fork. “It’s not what I’d want for myself, but you’re an adult and you know what’s best for you. You could do worse than marrying a billionaire superfan who seems to adore you,” she says sternly. “Tomorrow you’ll be married. Once things settle down, your muse will return, you’ll finishThe Milkmaid, and all the magic will be back in your life.”
I raise my glass. “From your lips to God’s ears.”
Chapter Three
CONNOR
Bones senses something’s up. The German shepherd has velcroed himself to my side, even following me into the bathroom as I shower off the smell of the restaurant. From the night I found him eating out of the dumpster behind Diabolique and took him in, he’s been highly attuned to my dragon’s energy. My restlessness is now his restlessness. I’d take him on another walk, but Seb, Remus, and Ellison are due here any minute, plus I don’t want to risk missing contact from Donovan. With any luck, he’ll respond before the official meeting of the four.
Then again, Donovan will expect the murder in Paris to send shock waves through the brotherhood. If there were any way for him to get a message to me, I suspect he’d already have done it. The Order must be holding their resident dragon in a position where he either can’t reach the phone or can’t risk contacting us.
Which means I’ll have to settle for plan B.
If only I had a plan B.
The doorbell rings, and I hear my Firetender, Zaire, welcome someone inside. The talented artist has served me faithfully since taking his oath three years ago. Our Firetenders get close access to our creative energy, and in return we get an enthusiastic servant. I’m lucky to have him.
“Seb and Remus have arrived,” Zaire announces.
Bones leaves my side to go greet the two dragons with an animated tail wag. Remus rubs the dog’s head affectionately, and Seb gives him a thump on the side.
“Thanks for coming. Help yourself to a drink at the bar if you need one. We’ll start as soon as Ellison arrives.”
“Are you sure we can’t start without him?” Seb slants a wry grin, his presence filling the room. The Taurus dragon is the picture of casual elegance in a pair of Tom Ford jeans, a relaxed button-up shirt, and a waxed canvas jacket. He clasps my hand and grabs my shoulder firmly in a way I picture him doing with every band he signs as an executive at his record label. Seb is as loyal as they come, but it’s true what they say about bulls and china shops. When he thinks he’s right about something, he doesn’t care how many teacups he has to shatter to prove it.
At his side, Remus, dressed in his faded blue jeans and wild, shoulder-length hair, isn’t as sophisticated as Seb but he’s easily as intimidating. Equally as large, the tattoos that peek out from the sleeves of his leather jacket cover much of his torso. Remus is quiet but deadly. There’s a lot going on upstairs, but he generally keeps itto himself until he can’t anymore. And then look out. The tattoo artist may take his time to deliberate, but once he makes up his mind about something, you don’t want to get caught between him and his goal.
“Remus. Good to see you again.”
“Same.” He strips out of his leather jacket and drifts toward the bar at the back of the room.
I need Remus to side with Seb and me about taking direct action on Lucy’s murder. Ellison is reliably conservative on issues like this. He’ll want to cross every t. But the longer we wait to rustle the grass, the longer the snakes can hide in it, and that means more civilian lives at risk. As he crosses the room, I try to guess where he stands, but his body language doesn’t give anything away. Fuck, the Gemini can be hard to read, but then his sign is known for being conflicted. Twins in one body, not always in agreement.
Another knock comes at the door, and Seb and I exchange glances.
“Ellison is here,” Zaire announces, escorting him into my living room before bowing and exiting in the direction of the kitchen.
Bones nudges Ellison’s leg with his nose, his tail barely wagging. It’s a greeting but not an enthusiastic one.Yeah buddy, I feel the same way.
Ellison gives the dog a reluctant pat that turns into a push. He doesn’t want dog hair on his dress pants. Typical Ellison.
