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“I’m sure Dimitri could find a blade better suited for the task.” She glances up at me, and a shy smile actually tips her lips as pink spreads across her cheeks. “Sorry about your kitchen knife.”
My… kitchen knife?
Dear God, this woman has some explaining to do, but I think when I get her alone, an explanation is going to be the last thing I want from her.
"Balloons at a wake?" Claire muses, switching tack so suddenly that I feel like whiplash is settling in. Next to her, Rhea grins mischievously.
"You don't like them?" She teases. "I thought they suited the occasion."
Wes and Dimitri turn their attention to the balloons Rhea grabbed at the store. Dimitri snickers, unable to hold in his amusement as I roll my eyes and Claire narrows hers, trying to figure out what she's missing.
"They say congratulations." I explain, enjoying the laugh that bursts out of her chest before she turns to giggle with my sister.
A man in a cheap suit joins our conversation, and I turn my attention to his hand on my sister’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry about your loss,” he says, his thumb reaching out to stroke her bare shoulder. She wore yellow—of course—and she’s the only one in color. She stands out even more than usual, and I can assume by the way she squints at him that she doesn’t recognize him.
“Yes,” she says, as if he asked a question. I’m not sure she realizes he didn’t.
“I’m sure he’s in a better place.”
Claire snorts with unconcealed laughter, and Rhea’s eyes go wide. “Shots!” She cries, turning to find the nearest source of liquor. Dimitri moves in time to catch her under the arm as she stumbles and nearly goes careening into Claire.
When I catch his eye, words aren’t necessary. But I say it anyway. “Take her upstairs. No one goes in that room besides you, me, or Claire.”
Claire looks at me in mild surprise, and then steps forward to place a kiss on the top of my sister’s head as Rhea reaches out for her, moaning about not wanting to go yet. Dimitri says something to her in a voice too low for me to hear, and she straightens with a smile, blows a kiss back at us, and lets him guide her out of the dining room.
I had to make a decision to prioritize my sister, given her inebriation, but now I’m alone with Wes and Claire. I can’t exactly keep her away from him if I don’t know who to trust to keep watch over her. And given the way she’s reaching around to take a drink from the waiter who just appeared at her side, she may soon end up in the same position as Rhea. Who will take her to her room if I have to stay here with Wes?
“And then there were three.” Claire grins, taking a sip from her cocktail.
Chapter twenty-nine
Claire
I’m high on the looks both Remy and Wes are giving me, and I guarantee it puts Remy’s expensive weed to shame. I almost think this must be what it feels like to take something like ecstasy. Every part of me is alive with intoxicating possibilities. I’m not in control, and somehow that is the most glorious feeling. It doesn’t make sense, given how hard I have to fight when I’m not in control, but it’s almost like I’m in the passenger seat of my own body, acting on what feels good. Maybe something in me snapped when Rhea told me Wes was coming to dinner, or maybe nearly dying again just gave me permission to stop thinking and start doing.
Whatever happened, I love the freedom I’ve given myself.
I’d never admit it to Wes, but I’ve been strung up from the moment I walked out on him, wetness pooling between my thighs. He’s attractive enough—I was taken with him until his brother came along. But it’s not him that’s got me feeling like I’m standing at the end of a blade with a sweet abyss at my back and the desire to jump coiling low inside of me. It’s the things we said—what I did.
I must be as vicious a monster as him to feel like I’ve turned to putty from our earlier encounter. He likes to see people hurt, and apparently, I am no better. His groans of pain and the profane things that came out of his mouth should make me feel horror, like I’m being victimized again. Instead, I feel slippery and vicious and more alive than I think I may have ever felt before. The closest I’ve ever come to this was when I took a life and then threw myself at Remy. That bliss faded quickly, and I’m not sure it was as sweet as this.
Maybe there’s a little hope for me yet since the pleasure of getting revenge through death is eclipsed by the euphoria of making Wes hurt. As if that wasn’t damning enough, the desire comes to a head when I turn my eyes back to Remy.
The way he watches me makes me feel like I’m naked… but not in a vulnerable way. It feels more like I’m the muse in an art class, and he’s studying me so that he can bring me to life through the stroke of a brush. I’m spring-loaded, ready to throw myself at him again the way I did the first time. I’m not sure where our chemistry comes from—it’s been hot from the moment he stopped me in his room and looked at me like a gift he hadn’t asked for but had no intentions of returning. Maybe it’s because he oozes sex appeal and he’s just willing to take what I’m willing to give. Rhea gave me her blessing to make my own choices, and I’ve already decided I want him.
I bite my lip hard, needing a little pain to temper the rising tide of my libido. I should walk away from them, check on Rhea (though she’s in capable hands) and take a cold shower. I’d jump in the pool and go for a swim if we weren’t in the middle of a wake.
“Wes,” I say, breaking the silence between us. “You alright? You look a bit pale.”
“Haven’t been sleeping well.” Wes says pointedly. I feel Remy shift and wonder if he’s uncomfortable with me talking to Wes or just confused. I also wonder if he has a gun tucked inside that jacket pocket or if he’s planning to keep Wes in line on the threat of violence alone.
“Shame.” I sigh, taking a sip of my champagne and savoring the burn of the bubbles against my tongue. I’ve definitely acquired a taste for pain. “You seem really… frustrated.”
They’re standing close enough together that I can see both of them at once.
It’s a ruinous sight. They are both so devastatingly beautiful, sharing some of the same strong features and yet possessing their own differences too.
An angel and a demon, a god and a devil.
