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Behind his back, Cato grimaced at the lot. He picked two pills out of the fifteen, swallowed them, and tossed the rest in the trash while everyone was looking at me.
That doesn’t bode well.
“Sooo,” I drew out, looking between Rafael, Cato, Lucien, and Wilder. “You’ve successfully lured me into your lair. What happens now?”
Rafael chuckled. “You tell us. You’re in charge, Sinclair.”
I straightened my spine. That’s right. I was in charge. “Okay, then, first, I’d like to get to know you guys better. How did you end up doing what you do? How far are you willing to go, and what else had you planned before I showed up? If it’s anything like what you did in the café today, you better keep that disinfectant handy, Wilder, because the hugs will be nonstop.”
He moved back like I was next to leap over the table.
“What else is there to know?” Rafael asked.
“How did you all become friends?”
“The three of us went to the same school,” he replied, pointing out Wilder and Lucien.
I almost asked where Cato was. Obviously, he was in the hospital Rafael broke him out of.
“Lucien, did you dress like this in high school too?”
“Of course.”
“When did you get the veneers?”
Lucien cocked his head, frowning. “Veneers?”
I tapped my canine. “They look super sharp. Don’t you ever hurt yourself biting your tongue?”
“They’re not veneers. And what kind of self-respecting nightwalker would I be if I savaged my own tongue?”
“True, but for real, Lucien. What got you into vampire culture?”
“Ah, yes. I was turned in 1864 by a shopkeeper who—”
“—whose lonely ass had a little crush on you. I’ve got the official story,” I broke in. “Seriously, I researched vampire subculture online the other night. It’s a whole thing with underground clubs, dress, blood play, and all that. Pretty cool.”
He scoffed. “Those fools mock and exaggerate the torment of true nightstalkers. Their silly little games are nothing more than foreplay for slightly taboo, but still bland, sex. If you want to know the truth, I’m your source.”
“The truth about what?”
“The life of a real vampire.”
“Um... but you’re not a real vampire.”
Lucien held out his hands. “I’m sitting in front of you. You don’t believe your eyes?”
Soft, warm lips pressed to my ear. “This is the part where you give up,” Rafael whispered.
I jumped, then quickly covered with a cough. A grin was a permanent fixture on his face, so I couldn’t tell if I got away with it.
“If you’re a real vampire, how can you go out in the sunlight?”
Lucien tugged a chain from beneath his ascot, flashing me a beautiful, intricate golden pendant. The dragon’s body weaved through a symphony of flames, crowning it with his open, roaring maw.
“Eighty years ago, I stumbled on a shaman who blessed this for me. Now I walk in the light with you mortals.”
“A shaman?” Disbelief scrunched my face. Was this guy committed to the role, or was he truly delusional? “Are you shitting me?”
“I am, in fact, not shitting you.”
“What about crosses, garlic, and holy water?”
“All myths made up by the phonies you wasted your precious time researching.”
“By any chance, are your great-great-grandson and his wife under the delusion that they gave birth to you? Could they possibly have photos of a squalling infant that looks like you?”
“Yes,” he said smoothly, “we doctored those to keep up the ruse.”
Rafael tickled my ear again. “You’re stubborn. I kinda like it.”
My cheeks heated, so did my fervor. “Photos,” I cried. “If you lived for over a hundred years, you should have photos of yourself through the many decades.” I smiled broadly. “Let’s see them.”
“I would love to show them to you, Lady Luna, but unfortunately, they were all lost in the fire set by Levi and his friends.”
“Oops,” Rafael crowed as I pinched the bridge of my nose. “He got you there.”
Lucien laced his fingers through mine, placing his palm over our clasped hands. A strangled noise escaped my throat. “I would never lie to you,” Lucien whispered. “This is who I am. It’s hard to understand—harder to accept. But all that matters is I would never hurt or turn you.” Trapping my gaze, he kissed my palm—slow, deliberate, sensuous. “I promise.”
My knees pressed together tight, heat pulsing in an entirely new place as his lips traveled down, pressing to the jumping vein in my wrist. I internally screamed at my body to stop, knowing I had less of a chance of winning that battle than my failed attempt to argue with Lucien.
Three of my prime hormonal years were spent in an all-girls Catholic school. Despite Katie’s quips, I never dipped in my roommate’s honeypot. All the time I was supposed to spend building an immunity to hot, seductive guys was spent wishing there was a single hot, seductive guy around.
“You’re cheating,” I rasped.
Lucien’s lips curved in a wicked twist, revealing those deadly fangs. “I could play fair, if you want me to.”
