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Chapter Sixteen
Ven
Ryder steers the horse to the edge of the garden and slides off its back, helping me down a moment later. The horse snorts and shoves his nose against Ryder’s chest. Ryder pats it on the neck. “I’ll go get you some water and a treat, loyal steed.”
I eye Ryder in surprise. This is a new and different side of him. Softer and more boyish.
“What?” he asks, raising his brows.
“Oh, nothing.” I shrug and smile. “Just didn’t take you for an animal lover.”
“I may be a demon, but I’m not a monster.” He shoots me a grin.
I feel a bit steadier on my feet, but I still hold onto Ryder’s arm as we make our way through the gardens to the building where the music is playing. The air is filled with the scent of dozens of varieties of flowers. Hibiscus and bird-of-paradise and flowering vines of orange, pink, and purple blooms. When we reach our destination, I can see there’s some sort of a party going on. A couple dozen people are dancing on a large patio to the tunes of a live band. Strings of festive colored lights glimmer overhead.
“Ryder!” a deep voice booms across the space.
A tall, portly English professor type approaches through the crowd. He’s wearing a tweed jacket with a canary yellow cummerbund over very sensible pants, and a monocle covers one eye. A dry martini rests in his left hand. He looks like someone’s eccentric grandpa, other than the two devil horns poking out of his forehead.
“Fitzgerald, how are you, you old rascal!” Ryder steps forward and embraces the other demon.
“And who is this lovely young lady?” Fitzgerald asks. “Have you finally settled down with a respectable woman? Oh, I wholeheartedly approve! She’s splendid. Sublime!”
“Oh, we’re not a couple,” I say quickly, feeling almost guilty after that warm greeting. “I’m Ven.”
I extend my hand and the demon shakes it vigorously. “Well, Ryder is a fool, then.” He claps him on the back.
“Ven and I met yesterday,” Ryder adds with a chuckle.
A shiver runs through me. So much has happened in such a short span of time. It seems like I’ve known Ryder for so much longer.
“Well, what are you waiting for, chap?” Fitzgerald lifts his martini glass as if to cheers, sloshing gin over the edge. “I am an excellent judge of character, and this one… don’t let her get away.”
I’m blushing as red as the horns on Fitzgerald’s head. Ryder laughs and nudges me with his elbow. “Ven might have a thing or two to say about that.”
“Where are my manners?” Fitzgerald says, placing his palm to his forehead. “Come, let me get you a drink! Have some food! Dance the night away!”
He turns around, lifting his glass like a beacon, and leads us across the crowded dance floor. I wonder if he’s drunk or if he’s always like this. Ryder takes my arm, and we follow our enthusiastic host.
When we reach the bar on the far side, Fitzgerald waves a hand toward the very young, very blonde, and very blue-eyed man standing behind it. “This is Fenric. He’s visiting from Iceland. He’ll make you whatever you want. He’s very good.” He winks at us, and his meaning is well understood.
“Do you want your usual?” Ryder asks me.
“Oh, you already know her usual?” Fitzgerald places his arms around us. “Love is in the air.”
“Ha, take it easy there!” Ryder says with a laugh. “Don’t scare Ven off.”
“I’ll actually have a mojito,” I say.
“And I’ll have a shot of your best aged rum,” Ryder says. “Neat, please.”
Fenric smiles and gets to work.
“I imagine you’re here for business,” Fitzgerald says, “But we’ll talk about that later. You never come by just for fun, Ryder! Even though you promise to. It’s really quite dreadful.” He shoots me a look. “You really must get him to work on that, darling.”
I look up at Ryder. “He’s not the most obedient.”
“Obedient!” Fitzgerald doubles over with laughter, slapping his thigh. “Oh, and a sense of humor, too. If I didn’t prefer men Ryder here would have competition, indeed he would.”
