Tristan rises, brushing off the knees of his perfectly tailored suit. Perfect suit, perfect hair, perfect smile on a perfect face.Of course, he’s a demon. Why didn’t I see it?
“I never said otherwise,” he says blandly. “I don’t see how it’s relevant, anyway. Certainly less relevant than your lies, Dragon. Care to explain to Cari that TechMeet doesn’t start until next week? That it was no happenstance that you ran into us in the park that night?”
“Isthattrue?!” I demand, turning on Zed.
“That’s a separate issue. Your kind has a long reputation for being untrustworthy,” Zed bites out, avoiding eye contact with me as he dodges my question. “Cari has a right to know who she’s talking to before she makes any decisions.”
“A client,” Tristan replies in those same cool tones. “A likeminded animal-lover. A friend, I hope.” He turns to me. “I apologize for not being more forthcoming about my species. You can understand why I might not volunteer the information upon first meeting. People tend to stereotype.”
I nod, my heart rate settling down. I can understand the need for privacy. Why you might not tell someone everything about yourself right away. Zed isn’t settling down, though. He paces the short hallway, getting more and more agitated. I need to defuse this situation somehow.
“It’s fine. No harm done. But I wish you’d told me, Tristan. I wouldn’t have held it against you. I have to know, though…have you been using your glamour on me?”
He flashes me an apologetic smile. “For my appearance, of course. And only a few times otherwise. You’re fairly resistant to it. That’s part of why I like you so much.”
Aw. My chilled heart melts a little at the thought that I might be different than other girls. “Wait a minute. Are you using it right now?”
His smile turns into a grimace. “Maybe? It’s not always one-hundred-percent conscious. It kind of just…comes out of me when I want something.”
“Fuck this guy,” Zed growls, pointing a clawed finger at Tristan. “He’s still being a weasel. Apologize for glamouring her and then show her your true form.”
Tristan shakes his head. “No way. Not here. I don’t want to ruin the gala.”
Zed’s still storming. “Fuck the gala.”
“Zed!” I yelp. “Don’t say that. This event is important to me.”
He throws up his hands. “That’s the point! He’s using it to manipulate you! Any threat to him, like admitting his wrongdoing or showing his true self? He turns it into a threat to the gala, because he knows you’ll protect it. He’salwaysgoing to do that…anything you care about, he’ll use to control you.”
Anything I care about. My dog is the first thing that flashes in my mind. I feel the blood drain from my face. “Where’s Radar?” I ask Tristan. “I left him with you at the table when Zed and I went to dance. Where is he?”
Tristan shrugs. “He was asleep.”
“You justabandonedhim?” I’m already headed across the ballroom as fast as I can in my heels, dodging dancers, squinting to see if I can spot his triangle ears and fluffy tail. So many people brought their pets, it’s hard to pick him out.
At home, where he’s familiar with everything and I’ve scent-labeled the furniture, he can navigate just fine. But here? In a huge venue crowded with hundreds of people and pets? If hewandered off on his own, he could be anywhere! He could have walked out the front door into the street!
I hear Tristan and Zed bickering behind me as they follow me back to our table, but I don’t even care anymore. All I care about is whether Radar is safe. I crouch down, grimacing when I hear a few stitches in my skirt pop.
There, curled up on Zed’s tux jacket, is my little polka-dot pup. I hold my hand out for him to sniff so he knows it’s me before I scratch his head. “There you are, my good boy.”
He blinks drowsily at me, thumps his tail a couple of times, and goes back to sleep.
I stand up and turn to face Zed and Tristan, furious. Both are wearing hangdog looks, like they wish I’d call them good boys, too. But they’re not. They’re both lying jerks who are trying to get what they want without any regard for my feelings.
“I can’t make you leave the event, but I want both of you to stay away from me and Radar,” I tell them. “I don’t want to see or hear from either of you again until I have time to think about everything. I want to enjoy this event, support the AAW, and dance my ass off. That’s all. Please respect that.”
Zed nods, stepping back. “I’ll go. I’m sorry—”
I hold up my hand to stop him. “Don’t. I’ll contact you when I’m ready to talk.”
He swallows hard, nods, and disappears into the crowd in the direction of the front entrance.
“I want to support the Alliance, too,” Tristan says, meeting my eyes. “It’s just as important to me as it is to you.”
I can feel my center go gooey as he tries to glamour me, but I know his tricks now and ignore the sensation. It feels gross, not good. “Fine. You can support them from another table.”
“I’m a ticketholder. A major donor. I have every right to be here.” Is Tristanwhining? The guy who has been using what he knows about me to manipulate me into a relationship I don’twant is acting like avictimbecause I don’t want to sit next to him anymore?
