“Working or flirting? Because that sorry display of exerting sex appeal to get Alden to confess to a crime he didn’t commit was pathetic.”
I leave my tray on the bar and face him. “Excuse me?”
“Let’s talk in private.”
“Whatever you have to say, you can say it right here,” I assert firmly, planting my feet, refusing to follow Vane into a dark corner. I see right through his ploy—he’s trying to distract me, tothrow me off my game so that I’ll fail in my mission. If I slip up, he’ll have the perfect excuse to convince Vyvyan to kick me out, I refuse to let that happen.
Vane shakes his head, his light hair falling across his brow, and stalks off, knowing I’ll follow. He is still my boss, in addition to being my prince. I march after him, my blood boiling.
“If you have a problem with the way I am handling my investigation, then I hate to break it to you, but I don’t give a flying fuck about what you think,” I say as we slip into a quiet corner hidden behind heavy velvet drapes. The fabric brushes against my skin like a lover’s caress, and I freeze. This is where we met. Almost a year ago, before I was a vampire, I came here hoping to get over Jaxson and find a semblance of belonging again. Instead, I found Vane.
Vane’s eyes spark with barely contained rage. My heart pounds as I consider retreating toward the crowded room behind me, but then I think better of it. I’m not doing anything wrong. My conscience is clear. I step closer.
“What’s your problem?” I ask. “Afraid I’m about to solve this case?”
“You won’t solve anything by sleeping with the enemy. Alden isn’t your guy,” Vane snarls.
“How the hell do you know that? Let me guess, you had a premonition.”
Vane frowns. “No, I didn’t, but I know when people have something to hide. My magic may not work on wolves the same way it does with witches, but I can see through Alden’s intentions. He’s only entertaining you because he wants something. Open your eyes, Desiree. He’s using you.”
I place my hands on my hips. My fingers dig into the smooth fabric of my dress. “Are you sure you are talking about Alden? Because it sounds like you are describing yourself.”
Vane lowers his brows. “Careful, Desiree, you are toeing a fine line.”
I step closer to him, my eyes narrowed. “And what exactly are you going to do about it, Vane? Banish me? Oh, wait, you already tried that, didn’t you? Last I checked, you’re not the king. So why don’t you just suck it up and accept the fact that I’m not going anywhere, whether you like it or not.”
“You don’t belong here, Desiree.”
I flinch, and he smiles. “Screw you, Vane.”
“Is that an invitation? I thought you wanted to fuck Alden tonight?” Vane pinches a strand of my hair between his fingers.
I swat him away. “Don’t touch me.”
“I may not be king, but I don’t take orders from you.”
“Why do you even care about what I do, Vane? If sleeping with Alden and his entire pack is what it takes to get the answers we need to help Vyvyan, then you shouldn’t have a problem with it. Unless there’s a reason you don’t want me to unmask the killer.”
I pause, a chilling thought paralyzing me. “Maybe the wolves have nothing to do with Vyvyan’s attack. Maybe, just maybe, it was you all along.” My voice drops to an accusatory whisper. “With Vyvyan out of the way, you’d be king, wouldn’t you? It’s the perfect motive.”
Vane’s expression shutters. In a blur, he spins me around and slams me against the wall. The impact isn’t hard enough to hurt, but it’s enough to send a jolt through me.
“I would never harm Vyvyan,” he growls, his face mere inches from mine. “Don’t ever accuse me of that again.”
But even as his words register, I find myself distracted by the weight of his body against mine. His muscles are tense under his shirt. I let my fingers trail lightly down his chest, touching his smooth skin. My breath quickens, rising and falling with eachheavy inhale. Vane’s eyes darken as I whisper, “You’re intense when you’re angry.”
I should focus on the case and finding Vyvyan’s attacker, but now I can only think about him. His scent fills my nostrils and makes my head hurt.
“Desiree. . .don’t play with fire.” His grip on me tightens.
I lick my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. “Vane . . .”
Vane’s gaze locks with mine, and for a moment, I swear I see a flicker of something raw and unguarded in his eyes as he leans in. But just as quickly, it’s replaced by the cold, hard mask I’ve learned so well.
“Get back to work, Desiree,” he says, his voice low and controlled. He releases me before turning on his heel and stomping away.
I laugh, bitterness coating my tongue like coriander or mint.
