Page 66 of King’s Kismet

“Live it up, Demon,” Hyde sang. “She’ll get you back for enjoying her torment.”

Sterling held her hands up. “I voted against this.”

“There was a vote?” I snapped.

Ripley nodded. “Blame them.”

“Bitch,” Miller whispered. “You weren’t supposed to say that.”

“I’m not going to be on the receiving end of a prank…” Ripley trailed off, grinning at Dolyn. “He was in on it too.”

“Sarge started it,” Freya divulged, dragging out her words to be dramatic. “He and Jack said you were always so terribly bored when you sat here.”

Blaire leaned her head against mine. “It was the guys’ idea. They just needed to borrow some magic to make it happen.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. “Of course they did.”

Vampire Visions - Chapter 24

Alternate POV

Sunday, May 24th

Afternoon

When I agreed to go shopping with Blaire, I had honestly forgotten how much I hated it.

She was less enthusiastic than Hyde, but it was still exhausting trying to keep up with her. They would devastate a shopping mall together. Just tear the stores apart as they sought their new wears.

I would rather be tortured, electrocuted with car batteries, suffer a million paper cuts...

“You don’t like shopping?” Blaire asked me with a grin.

“No,” I answered. “But I thought some estrogen would do me good. Too much testosterone was making me fighty.”

She snorted. “Fighty? Those guys make me want to slit my eardrums open to deafen myself.”

“That’s not inaccurate,” I mumbled. “It’s been an adjustment.”

“Is it going okay?” she queried.

“Well, it’s been like a week and a half… and I haven’t killed them.” I shrugged. “I would say it’s going good.”

Blaire smirked. “Give them time. I can’t decide who will wear you down first. Naturally, I want to say Novak. But Palmer likes to argue. And Briggs likes to bitch. Vaughn is… Vaughn. Stone is usually quiet, though. He’s the least likely to get stabbed.”

“And York?” I counted. “Do you know him?”

“I do,” she said softly, nodding as she glanced over a shimmering dress. “He’s good.”

I raised a brow at her, and she snapped her head up.

“I mean, he’s a good guy,” she amended. “He doesn’t have the best judgment, but he’s easy to talk to.”

“He is easy to talk to,” I admitted, spacing the hangers out evenly, not interested in adding to my hellacious wardrobe. “That’s one of the first things I realized about him.”

Blaire hummed in agreement, flitting from rack to rack as she picked through the clothes. I observed her movements, her comfort in the busy environment, the way she greeted strangers.

She was a tiny thing, several inches shorter than me. Her silky brunette hair fell right past her shoulders, catching the light just like her brother. They had the same golden eyes, though hers looked more like shifting glitter to Novak’s molten metal. Her high cheeks held a hint of peach color, matching the vibrancy of her lips.