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I held his gaze. “Why ask me? Why not ask Delilah? I’m the one who…” But I couldn’t finish it. I couldn’t finish the sentence. My throat seized up and the words would not come.
“Because Delilah and Camille, they grieve openly. You hide your sorrow, you hide your pain like the wounded animal you once were. I know you open up around Nerissa, but your sisters need to know that Sephreh’s death was more than a blip in the road to you. If you don’t show them this side of yourself, Menolly, you’ll drive them away. Perhaps not now, perhaps not tomorrow, but in the near future, when the shock has worn away, they’ll look at you and only see the tough exterior that hides the loss you feel.”
My first reaction was that I wanted to hit him, to smack him back. The words How dare you say this to me? formed on my lips, but I left them unsaid. Because truth was, if I said anything at all, the sorrow I’d cried out last night would return. And right now, I couldn’t afford to feel the pain.
“Yeah, well… right now I’m afraid I don’t have that luxury. But Shade…” I paused, not sure of how much to say.
“Feel free. Tell me off, tell me what you think of my advice. I can take it.” His eyes flashed and only a deep warmth, a dark compassion, rested there.
I worried my lip for a moment. “I know you mean well. But right now, there’s no time for this. I won’t ignore what you said, though. That’s the best I can promise for now.”
With a nod, he moved back. Delilah entered the room then, pulling her sweater over her head. She glanced at him, then at me, then at Shade again.
“Something going on I should know about? A spat?” The look in her eyes was darker than I’d seen before, not jealous but… cautious.
Wondering where that was coming from, I shook my head. “Not at all. Shade was just expressing concern over my bar. And I thanked him but reassured him, I have things under control.” I held his gaze a moment longer, challenging him to contradict me. But he just turned away to grab his brown leather calf-length duster, and then followed me out the door, Delilah on his heels.
Downstairs, Camille was waiting, Bran by her side. Neither looked happy about it, but they were there, Bran with his usual smirk that made me want to rub his face into the ground.
“We’re ready?” was all she said.
I nodded. “Let’s head out. You talked to Vanzir?”
“He’s keeping watch here with Hanna. And I called Morio. He’ll meet us at the Utopia Club.” She swept out the door. “Bran, you can ride with Delilah and Shade—”
“I prefer to ride with you.” His voice was soft, but firm, and I could tell there was no room for disagreement.
Camille rankled, but said nothing, merely headed toward her car. I followed, deciding to give my Jag a rest, and to hopefully prevent bloodshed.
“I’m going with you. I don’t want to chance the Jag.” I pushed past Bran. “I call shotgun.”
Camille gave me a grateful look. Bran let out an exasperated laugh, but there was no humor behind it. He shrugged and climbed into the back of the Lexus. As I slid into the passenger seat, I glanced over my shoulder at him and gave him a wicked, fang-filled grin. Let him chew on that one for a while.
We took off, followed by Delilah and Shade in her Jeep. I wanted to talk to Camille, strategize a bit, but Bran’s presence put an unnatural strain on both of us and I found myself picking up her suspicion of the guy. He was gorgeous—pale as alabaster with long dark hair that he kept pulled back in a ponytail, and his eyes were shimmering pools that beckoned with a welcome that promised both passion and fear. He was built, but not rippling in the muscle department.
But the qualities that struck me the most were (a) his brilliant lips—he looked almost as though he were wearing lipstick, but it was a product of his breeding, and (b) the man oozed magnetism. Whether it was good or not, I wouldn’t lay odds, but magnetism it was, stronger by far than any Fae glamour I’d ever been around.
As I watched him through the rearview mirror, I began to notice his fixation on Camille. He watched her intently, like a bird watching a shiny object. But it wasn’t a leer. He didn’t feel particularly lecherous, though I did sense a deep and vibrant passion below the surface that was probably better left untapped, given the circumstances. No, this was more… need. As if he was trying to quench his thirst by looking at her.
We were used to men going nuts over her boobs and curves—that was par for the course and it didn’t bother her, nor did it bother Delilah or me. But this was something different and it gave me the creeps. I wondered if she’d noticed it, or if it had escaped her attention. But ten to one, this was what unsettled her around him and caused the sparks.
I decided to do a little prying. “So, Bran, are you engaged? Do you have a girl back home in Darkynwyrd?”
The look Camille shot me was priceless and I tried not to laugh. She gripped the steering wheel and I had the feeling I’d be in for it once we were alone, but for now, I wanted to see what kind of reaction I’d get.
Apparently, Bran didn’t find the question engaging. He gave me a cool look. “No.”
The clip of his words made me snarly. I was already a little wired from my discussion with Shade, but at least he meant well and wanted the best for us. Bran here was another matter. I was beginning to adopt Camille’s dislike of the man.
“How about a guy?” Let’s just see the fur fly on that one, I thought.
Bran leaned forward as far as the seat belt would allow. “I’m not into vampires, thank you for asking.” I sputtered as he gave me a blasé look. “I assume you are interested, unless you have some other reason for being so nosy.” Once again, the arrogant sneer punctuated his words.
I restrained myself from bolting over the seat.
Camille wasn’t quite so diplomatic. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” She flashed him a snide smile through the rearview mirror, but kept her eyes on the road. “But since we’re stuck with each other for now, I suggest you keep your mouth shut and we’ll keep out of your business. Menolly—no more questions.”
Bran snorted. “You girls take the cake. My mother was right—barbaric and mannerless. Humans are pathetic, and you windwalkers are just as bad. What she wants with you escapes me. Why she would offer you a place in our wood—again, I have no clue.”
