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I can in fact picture her words, my ankles crossed on the meeting table while I make the Duke of Baked Goods hand feed me pastries. But in the same image, Tweed is there, on the red side of the table. Lillianna has a point. My brother has been brainwashed for almost two decades, forced to obey if we were to survive, but still…
“Eternal life without Tweed,” I whisper, staring at Norris. Suddenly, his weight doesn’t feel like so much of a blessing. The legendary vampire bats are just that – thought to be extinct. When Lillianna told me she was able to procure one, I couldn’t sleep for weeks. It no longer mattered that this life was stolen from us; we could carve another for ourselves. Live a thousand times until we got it right. But if Lillianna is only offering me that fate, it’s not something I could even contemplate. “We’ll find another way,” I promise but she jerks away from me.
“There is no other way! I can’t keep up the charade of my marriage anymore. I can’t lie with the King one more night, pretending I’m not dead inside.” I hate to see her in such anguish, but she should have known better than to expect me to leave Tweed behind. A bond like ours is cemented before birth. There is no me without him.
“Look, Tweed and I may have taken different paths, but we’re the same person. Identical in mind, body and soul.”
“No, Cash, you’re not,” Lillianna huffs, dropping into a high-backed chair before a coffee table and pre-lit fireplace. Like the enormous bed, all furniture in this room is overly large and plunged in red suede. Hearts are repeated through the décor in every aspect possible, from the curtains and bed linen to a hand-crafted rug and the upholstered chair Lillianna is dwarfed in.
“Maybe once, but you aren’t the same as him anymore. You’re better. You’re more.” Hanging my head, I block out her words. Still, after a year of praise, I’m unable to accept it. I’m not better than the scumbag everyone dubbed me as for a majority of my life. Riding my brother’s high when he proved of use to the kingdom. When he proved he was strong enough to carry us both.
“I’m sorry Lillianna, but you’ve lost my part in this.” I place Norris on the bed and walk towards the door. No idea how I’ll explain her presence after she’s done what she’s feels is necessary, but between Tweedles, loyalty means something. I won’t betray my brother, nor will I choose between him and the chance of a happier future.
“Okay, okay, fine!” Lillianna shoots to her feet. I pause, my hand on the door handle as she tries to coax me back. “I hear you, and I trust you,” she sighs, walking directly into my arms. “Saving the realm is what’s important. Take the bat, use it for you and Tweed. Once you’re superior, immortal men, you’ll come back for me, right?” Her golden eyes peer up at me, so full of hope. A grin splits my face in two, the giddiness of a life I’m finally going to get to live swelling inside tenfold.
“I’ll save you too. I promise,” I press a kiss to her forehead, ignoring the fact I just signed Tweed and I up to kill the King of Spades.
30
Mr. Budgerigar isn’t a fan of talking. I’ve tried everything. Crushed up a cough sweet, giving him a steam bath in a saucepan, massaged his tiny chest with my pinkie finger. Either he no longer possesses the gift of speech, or he just has nothing to say. But then why was he left under the hat that appeared to be an exact replica of the one I was gifted. Even by my standards, this makes no fucking sense.
Placing him in the fruit bowl, I leave Cash’s kitchen with my self-esteem dragging along the floor behind and drop onto the window ledge. The Vamp in question left an hour ago to prepare for his weekend show, the queue of females impatiently waiting to enter stretching for miles. They must know they’re not all going to fit inside the club, but they wait anyway.
Lightning flickers through the thick, black cloud, casting an ominous shadow over all who dare venture here. The layer of grass spread across this derelict land appears charred and trampled. Yet, like the beacon of a lighthouse, Dirty Dee’s shines against the night, enticing the moths to the flame. Music filters from the floor below, a soft beat that has the females bouncing with excitement.
Deciding I should probably get ready, I go to move when the main doors beneath the window open. No one moves, aside from bobbing on the spot. I hover, curious as to why a stampede hasn’t ensued, and then I see it. Or rather, see him.
Cash strides into the night, a pair of black trousers encasing his strong legs. No shoes, no shirt, but a ski mask on his head and a whip trailing in his hand. He assesses each female with keen, green eyes, gently pulling a slender woman with a duck beak and webbed feet from the crowd. Kissing her hand, he permits her to waddle her upturned tail in a mini skirt to the front of the line and enter the club. Then he moves on. Selecting specific women, ignoring the rest.
If there’s a criteria to Cash’s decision making, I can’t tell what it is from up here. Human, panda, giraffe, hunchback. A real mix of predator and prey, but no one is focused on anything except Cash. The otter from the pet shop is chosen, her apron swapped out for a glittery two-piece and thigh-high boots. Kinky. I wonder what else she does with those empty cages laying around her shop.
A French hen - or at least, a hen in a French maid’s outfit - tries to accompany her friend inside, creeping past Cash when he’s turned away. His shoulders tense. A fork of lightning ignites the sky, reflecting off the corded muscles rippling through his back. Barely moving his wrist, the whip lifts of its own accord and cracks sharply, catching the Hen’s feathery butt. She squawks, flapping around and runs into the night, leaving everyone else staring wide eyed at Cash’s display. If anything, they appear more turned on and I don’t blame them. But I’ve also seen enough.
Jumping up, I pad to the bedroom and pace around Cash’s bed, suddenly unsure of myself. One week ago, an invite to watch a Tweedle Boy dance and strip would have been the epitome of my wet dreams. But after spending time with Cash, with his cocky smirk and easy-going attitude, I’m skeptical of the male outside. The persona he’s demonstrating. I don’t know that Cash, and I’m not wholly sure I like him. Shoving my hands into my hair, I tear my head back to the ceiling and scream.
“You rang?” Chels’ heavy weight drapes over my shoulders, Stan pushing up on his hind legs to give my cheek a twitchy kiss. I smile, dropping onto the edge of the bed.
“Hey guys,” I sigh, calmness washing through me instantly. My constant companion from the institution, Chels understands the war raging in my mind.
“Not everything you expected, huh?” Her fluffy tail curls around my neck, stroking the patch where Tweed’s markings are still visible. Considering his blood is in my system, he must have drove his fangs extra deep. My core flutters at the thought, and I instantly know where I’m going wrong.
“Fuck, I’m so cliché,” I push the heels of my palms into my eyes and drop back. Chels slithers out the way just in time. “Falling for the bad guy despite keeping Hatter from me, and ignoring the playful, equally as handsome, cheeky one right in front of me who is my usual type. Why am I such a dick?!”
“There’s not enough hours in the day to delve into that question,” Chels grins, winding around in the air above my head. She’s right. If the intensive therapy at Charmsfield couldn’t shed any light on my dickishness, we definitely don’t have time now. Not when the music from below is growing louder, a voice through the speakers announcing the show will commence in ten minutes. A scuffle sounds at the door and I turn my face away from Stan’s continual kisses to see Cash there, chest falling heavily and worry in his green eyes.
“Aren’t you coming? I reserved you a front row seat.” I pull myself upright.
“You did?” I frown.
“Of course,” Cash closes the distance between us, ignoring Chels’ presence. Winding a hand around my nape, he holds me close enough for only his face to fill my vision. From his chiseled jaw to straight nose, stunning emerald eyes and blonde hair falling forward, there isn’t a part of Cash that isn’t flawlessly beautiful. When his full lips part, they relay the words I needed to hear. “I may have to work, putting on a show for the crowd, but everything I do tonight is for you. I want you there, front and center.”
His mouth covers mine, a fierce, possessive press that has me rising on my tiptoes to seek more. More of the male who’s accepted me from the second he swung those incredible eyes my way. Hewantsme, amongst all those outside falling at his feet, and who am I to deny him? Smiling against his mouth, I nod and blink myself back to reality. Sort of.
“I’ll be right down. I just couldn’t decide on an outfit,” I lie. Cash smirks, seeing straight through me.
“It doesn’t matter what you wear. It’ll be torn and crumpled on the floor later anyway.” Stepping away, his hand rests on the top of the door jam in an effort to hold himself back from taking me right now.
“Perfect,” I wink. “I’ll wear something of yours then.” Cash’s chuckle follows me into the bathroom and I close the door between us. Leaning on the counter, my reflection grins back at me. Puffy lips, flushed cheeks. A vitality of life radiating from my sky-blue eyes. Never in my life have I looked so alive. Previous irrational thoughts forgotten, I set about taking my sweet time showering. After all, Cash looks better beneath a layer of sweat.
