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“Your body is delicious, but I fell in love with your brains too, Cloud Girl.”
I heated up at the casual mention of “love.”
“I guessed the same thing,” Rafael continued. “We’re going to get him to tell us who. If we can cut the bullshit and end this today, we have to try.”
“I agree, but can you get your father to tell you?”
He turned and beamed at me. “I’ve never gotten my father to do a single thing he didn’t feel like doing in nineteen years. But there’s a first time for everything.”
I cupped his cheek and kissed him slow and deep, pouring waves of support and comfort into him. “Good luck.”
“Good luck to you.” Rafael lightly pecked my nose. “Make them cry, baby. Make them fucking cry.”
“Oh, I will.”
A few more kisses and some light fooling around later, I finally made it downstairs. Voices floated up the steps, deflating my happy balloon.
“—know that’s not blood. Admit it.”
“What else would it be?”
“Fruit juice. Water and dye. An over-commitment to the act.”
I stepped off as Victor set his breakfast of jam and toast on the table. Life with a nanny, chef, and butler didn’t prepare him for making his own meals.
“Are you faking it because I’m here, or do you really put on this show twenty-four seven?”
Lucien raised a perfect brow. They faced off across the dining table. “Show? Act?”
“Yeah. Everyone knows you pretend you’re a vampire, so you can’t be called as a credible witness against your family and the family business. Gotta really commit to go for the insanity defense—”
I stifled a sigh. Victor made friends everywhere he went.
“—so respect for keeping it up all these years. But you’ve got to take a day off, man.”
Lucien took a slow, measured sip of that red drink. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not putting on an act, and if I was, it wouldn’t be for any legal reason. My descendants run a perfectly legal and upstanding business.”
“And I’m a fairy princess.”
“What you get up to is your business.”
Time to step in. “Whoa, okay,” I said, entering the kitchen. “This is a fun conversation, but how about another one?” I sidled up to Victor, tentatively laying a hand on his shoulder. “Victor, are—are you okay?”
He pulled a face. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
I scanned him. Victor lost it when he found out about the kiss. If he had talked to Adonis, his poker face wouldn’t be this flawless. He didn’t know.
“Just asking. I hope you’re sleeping better.”
“Actually, I couldn’t sleep last night. I got up and made cocoa, then I went to see if you were awake and wanted some.” He pinned me with his gaze. “But you weren’t in your room.”
Because I was in Rafael’s.
“No, I wasn’t.” My hand was still on his shoulder. I squeezed. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Looking away, he pushed back from the table. “What’s there to say? I need real food. I’m grabbing something from the café. See you in class.”
He was gone before I could get another word in. I slumped on the stool, eyes fluttering shut. If he was like this about Rafael, what chance did I have that he’d be okay with me and Adonis? Adonis was barely okay with me and Adonis. Everything became so complicated, so fast.
“Everything all right, Lady Luna?”
I opened my eyes and tried for a smile. “Everything is fine. I’m heading out early today. Want to join me?”
He offered me his arm. “It’d be my pleasure.”
Lucien and I headed out arm in arm like the old-timey couple we would be if I’d worn a Victorian outfit to match his. Thinking of that reminded me of the one time I did, and what we got up to in that vampire club.
“Lucien, how come we haven’t gone back to the club?”
Heavy clouds blotted out the sun, spreading an ominous warning like the lightning ripping through the atmosphere. Damp clung to my skin and hair, frizzing my ends, and beading on the back of my neck.
It was the perfect morning. Like me, Zeus knew what was coming. He sent the right greeting to darken this day. It marked the beginning of the end for them.
“I don’t go that often. It used to be smaller. Intimate. Just me and a dozen friends and acquaintances from the old days. Now it’s overrun by new blood and their dates, or their lunch. There won’t be such an audience the next time I have you.”
“Next time?” I bumped his shoulder and lingered. “When is next time?”
“The excitement is in not knowing,” he said, “but screw that. How does tonight sound?”
I laughed.
“We’ll get out of the Gallery and grab dinner. Then, we’ll see where we end up.”
“Sounds perfect. What do you think of Toussaint’s?” I dropped my chin on his shoulder, breathing the sweet, bergamot scent that was him. “It’s infested with Royals, but they’ve got the best stuffed salmon I’ve ever tasted. I swear I didn’t even like seafood before that place.”
