Ravi shifts, unable to meet my gaze. “We should get back to the lesson . . .”
I shake my head and ask, “Is he or she dead, too?”
Ravi grits his teeth. “No, my sister isn’t dead.”
“But? Why isn’t she here?”
Ravi tears his fingers through his dark hair, and I tighten my hands into fists. Yeah, it doesn’t feel good to have your scars prodded, does it? I can’t think of any good reason why he would keep information about this sister from me. I want to shake the truth from him.
“What magic do you want to focus on?” Ravi deflects. “You asked earlier about dreamwalking. Though it should be avoided at all costs, meditation is the easiest way to enter someone’s dream.”
“Ravi—”
“We aren’t talking about her. It wouldn’t change anything.”
My hackles rise. None of this adds up. Ravi has secrets, and those secrets are connected to his sister. Too much is going on beneath the surface. “If you can’t be honest with me, then we’re done here,” I state, rising to my feet.
Ravi stands his ground, flinty eyes meeting mine. “You can’t have it both ways, Leigh.”
“Excuse me?”
“You can’t keep things from me and expect me to divulge myself to you.”
With that, he turns and walks briskly out of the gym. I gape after him, feeling strangely guilty for no good reason. Clearly, he’s not going to teach me about dreamwalking, so I’ll have to take matters into my own hands, like I always do.
My cramped cornerinside the vampire dormitory feels like a silk, lace, and leather storm amidst hundreds of polished mahogany coffins. Several vampires flit about in a blur as they prepare for their nightly shift at the club. Their chatter whirs low amidst the rustle of elaborate fabrics. Other, more languid vampires meticulously dress for the evening’s breakfast.
Pulling on my leather mini dress, I catch snippets of several conversations about the wolves’ surprising visit last night. Some marvel at how Alden and his friends defied ingrained preconceptions. I think Alden’s plan for coming to Little Death was to divert attention away from himself and the Balam attack by making friends with his enemies.
Anger surges through me in response. I never got the chance to question Alden before Vane unceremoniously threw him out. I think he was wandering in the Nest’s tunnels to find Vyvyan so he could finish what he so callously started.
Vyvyan is the other topic of conversation in the dormitory tonight. No one has seen her in days, and many believe she’s fallen ill. No one knows the truth. My empty stomach clenches with guilt. I am directly responsible for her current situation. If I don’t solve this case, I’ll find myself friendless and, perhaps even worse, homeless.
With a groan, I eye my reflection in the mirror, weighing if I should change as I clutch a pair of well-worn jeans. My bare feet sink into the plush carpet, attempting to ground me amidst my racing thoughts. Dressing to go out with an ex-boyfriend is always a delicate dance, especially when said ex might possess crucial information that could aid in my quest to find Vyvyan’s would-be killer. Alden stays with Leigh at the palace, and Jaxson and Leigh are close. Jaxson may have heard or learned things that could significantly benefit my investigation. Despite everything, I can’t deny I’m also excited to spend time with Jax. He mentioned wanting to apologize. But for what, exactly? Our messy past or our complicated present?
Whatever. The dress stays. It does wonders for my cleavage.
I grab my favorite tube of burgundy lipstick and am just about to apply it carefully when the dorm doors swing open with unnecessary force. Vane waltzes in as if he owns the place. I jump, smearing color across my pale face.
I curse under my breath. He’d better not be here for me. The last thing I need is to show up late and risk Jaxson leaving before I even get there.
As I wipe away the errant lipstick with a tissue, I can’t help but notice it’s the very same deep shade as Vane’s shirt. I scowl. He’s also deliberately left several buttons undone, providing a tantalizing glimpse of his sculpted chest. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I curse myself for looking. He’s disgustingly attractive, but so is the devil himself. Vane managed to get under my skin last night after accusing me of essentially whoring myself out to Alden rather than focusing on helping Vyvyan. Then, as if to drive me mad, he’d caged me against the wall, and I’d fought the overwhelming urge to kiss him senseless.
If he’s here to poke fun at me for it, I don’t want to hear it.
All over the room, the other vampires have fallen silent. As Vane bypasses them, heading for me, eyes lock on me withvarying degrees of animosity. Red flares prick at the edges of my vision. Vane’s presence here will only make things infinitely more complicated between Misty and me.
Vane follows my gaze, and his brow furrows. “Leave us.”
Every vampire departs without a second glance, the echo of their footsteps fading.
“Is that what you’re wearing on your date?” Vane questions.
I snap the cap back on my lipstick. “Are you the fashion police?”
Vane’s eyes narrow on mine in the mirror. With every inch he closes between us, my heart pounds in a wild, erratic rhythm against my ribs, threatening to break free. When his hands finally come to rest on my bare shoulders, the sheer heat of his touch feels like it’s searing itself into my exposed skin. He swiftly spins me to face him, leaving me with little opportunity to react.
“Watch your tone, Desiree.” His gaze drops provocatively, sweeping over my bare feet. “You can’t possibly leave without shoes.”
