Tristan, of course, sits on her right. He appears riveted by the speakers during dinner, even standing to applaud some of them, and I can tell Cari approves, glowing every time he shows his support.
I don’t know why it rankles me so much, but the performance he’s putting on makes my scales itch. He’s so fake. Everything about him is fake, from his perfect hair to his spotless shoes. I wonder if his beloved pet is even real.
Even Radar knows he’s bad news. But my biggest ally is asleep on my jacket under the table, in a food coma after eating a dog dinner to rival the one served to the sapient guests.
“…the incredible Dr. Caroline Stanley,” a dapper man at the podium exclaims, jarring me out of my thoughts. I was so caught up in hating Tristan that I completely missed what he said.
Tristan’s already on his feet, helping Cari to the stage. Damn, that should be me.
“What did she win?” I ask the woman next to me, who’s clapping loudly.
“The AAW Presidential Service Award,” she says, eyes shining as she watches Cari. “I knew she’d get it. She’s amazing. I’m so excited to be at her table.”
“Me too,” I say, meaning it.
“When the Alliance invited me to speak tonight, they didn’t tell me they were giving me an award first,” Cari says warmly into the mic, clutching the crystal statue to her chest as she blinks back tears. “I hardly feel right accepting it when so many people made it possible.”
As she rattles off a list of names, Tristan retakes his seat, casually draping his arm over the back of Cari’s chair. I scoot the chair with my foot so his arm falls off and replace it with my own.
He rolls his eyes. “Not surprising you’re pissing on your territory like the beast you are.”
My inner beast flexes, offering to show him what our feral form looks like, but I push him down, eyes on my mate. She’s glowing up there. Shining for everyone to see. I amnotgoing to fuck this up by shifting, no matter how much Tristan goads me.
“You’re just jealous I have the one thing money can’t buy.”
“Can’t it?” he purrs, turning his incubus glamour on me. Can’t lie, he’s good at what he does. Even I have trouble resisting his magnetism when he leans in conspiratorially. “I didn’t have any trouble getting her out of her clothes at the spa earlier. Only cost ten thousand dollars. Here’s the trick with Cari, though. You can’t buy her. You have to buy everyone else. The question for you is, can you afford them?” He winks, and the silly, glamouredpart of me melts even as my feral formexplodeswith rage inside me.
Mate.We don’t have to buy her. She’s ours already.
My hand flexes with the need to claw the smug look off Tristan’s face, and the back rail of the chair cracks. He snickers. He knows he’s making me lose control. That’s what he’s trying to do with his nasty little demon tricks. But if he wants to play these dangerous games? There’s nothing a dragon is better at than playing with fire.
By the time Cari is done with her uplifting speech, the room is buzzing with energy. Donation envelopes are passed out, and I see a lot of zeros on the checks that are eagerly written in the wake of her moving words. And when she walks off that stage? I’m right there, hand out, to help her down the steps and back to our seats.
“You were incredible,” I tell her as I quickly swap her broken chair for my intact one and make space on the table for the heavy award statue. “I bet you doubled their donations with that speech.”
“Tripled,” Tristan says, handing her his check. Over her shoulder, I see that it’s made out for a half-million dollars.
“Oh my god,” she gasps, the slip of paper trembling in her fingers. “This is incredible, Tristan. They’re going to be able to do so much with this.”
His expression of triumph makes my stomach turn. He’s right. I’ll never get rid of him. All he has to do to own Cari’s loyalty and affection is to buy everyone else. Her employees, her friends, the charitable organizations she supports… If they are happy, she’ll be putty in his hands.
“How much did you donate, Dragon?” Tristan asks. Cari frowns, but I can’t tell if it’s at his rude question or the fact that my empty envelope is still on the table in front of me. The answer is obvious: I haven’t donated anything yet.
“His name is Zed,” Cari says firmly, answering that question.
“I’m waiting for the silent auction.” I quickly pocket the envelope like I might put a check in it later. Iwillput a check in it later. It’s just not going to amount to anything close to what Tristan can cough up. Demons have a way with money. Probably eighty percent of billionaires have some demon ancestry.
Dragons aren’t bad with money either, though. And that’s because we know how to protect what’s valuable.
“You don’t have to donate,” Cari says, sounding worried. She reaches out to stroke my forearm. “I didn’t invite you to squeeze money out of you. I just wanted to spend time with you while you’re in town.”
“How longareyou in town, big guy?” Tristan asks, raising one brow. It’s a warning that if I don’t play by his rules, he’s going to tell her about all the little white lies I’ve told this week. About the tech conference, the “chance” meeting.
“Zed,” Cari reminds him, but there’s something quiet about her. She wants know the answer to his question, too.
“My work is flexible. I can do a lot of it remotely, so there’s not a set date I have to leave.”
“Zed’s in tech like you!” Cari says, sounding delighted to introduce the subject we have in common.
