“Well, I just got here. We have a few days to get to know each other before Leigh kicks me out. Maybe I can crash with you? Do you live here?”
Desiree toys with her dress’s plunging neckline. “I do. And you say you just got here, but I thought I saw some paw prints earlier this week in the park. Were they from you?”
Alden shakes his head. “Can’t say that they were, gorgeous.”
Desiree’s smile falters, hinting at more to her questioning than mere curiosity.
“Desiree, people are waiting for their orders,” the redheaded server calls out.
“That’s my cue,” Desiree announces to Alden.
“I wish you would stay.”
Alden’s appreciative gaze lingers on Desiree’s retreating form as she saunters off. I tighten my grip on my drink, wishing I could drown him in it. A glance at Vane reveals he’s doing the same, his glass of blood in danger of shattering under the pressure of his grip.
Something is going on between him and Desiree.
“She’s a pretty girl,” Alden says to Vane once he notices the tension. “Is she yours?”
“Desiree belongs to no one but herself,” Vane replies.
“How chivalrous. If a girl who looks like that worked for me, I’d lock her up and throw away the key.”
“Is that what you do to women back in Lua—lock them in cages?” I quip, unable to hide my disdain.
“Only if they ask nicely.”
I roll my eyes. “Brute.”
With a laugh, Alden rises from his seat. He walks over to Desiree and laughs at something Keris says. My people are winning him over. Alden slips his arm around Desiree’s tinywaist, pulling her close to whisper something in her ear. She responds by biting her lip.
“I’m glad Jaxson isn’t here to see this,” I mutter under my breath as I wave enthusiastically at another of my councilors walking through the door wearing the signature Little Death red mask before taking it off.
“Did he pass along my message?” Vane asks. He speaks to me, but his eyes watch Alden possessively squeeze Desiree’s hip. She doesn’t swat him away.
“About Beatrix Marks? I have Pallas looking into her,” I say in a low voice, sipping my watered-down drink. While I showed Alden around the city, Jaxson informed me about the visiting anti-monarchist. The news took me by surprise; I’d heard her name before. She opposes the monarchy and all inherited leadership positions. While she and others like her haven’t posed a threat, I dislike having her in the city while Alden is here. “Is she here to jumpstart some sort of protest in light of the blackout?”
“She’s here to meet with someone,” Vane shares while glaring at Desiree. With each touch and smile she offers Alden and the others, Vane bares his teeth a little more.
“Who?” I urge. Vane finally tears himself away from Desiree to meet my gaze.
He sighs. “I didn’t get a name. But I suggest watching your back.”
I frown. I’d need eyes in the back of my head to do that.
Desiree slips free from the conversation and leaves the room. Vane stands abruptly.
“It was good seeing you, sweetness.” Vane hurries after Desiree then. He doesn’t notice the redheaded vampire’s piercing stare as the door closes behind them, sealing them off from her view.
The tension in the room hangs thicker than blood, and I can’t shake the sense that there’s more to this situation than meets the eye. With Beatrix Marks in the city and the enigmatic figures she’s here to meet, I know I must stay vigilant. The blackout, Ravi, Alden’s presence, already have me biting my nails. What other surprises await me in the shadows?
I maneuvermy way toward the bar, empty tray in hand, as my mind churns with suspicions about Alden’s claim of not being in Borealis during the blackout. His statement doesn’t sit right with me, and I contemplate coaxing a confession or more information out of him if I can get him alone. Alden seems to have taken a liking to me, which I could use to my advantage. By maintaining the pretense of flirting, I can lower his guard and extract the answers I seek.
Alden might not have directly ordered the Balam attack, but he might hold crucial information about who did. Maybe he is here to finish what someone else started? The thought raises the hair on my arms, but it also fuels my determination to uncover the truth.
“Desiree, a word,” Vane says behind me.
My jaw tightens. “No time. I am working.”
