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“Maybe I’d better wear a denim jacket with my skinny jeans and now that I think about it, rainboots might not be a bad idea.”

“Why?” Makayla grimaced.

“I don’t have a coat to match this dress.”

“No way, you’re not wearing denim, he might be taking you to some highfalutin Council party and you need to make a good impression.”

“Uhh, I hope not, my gothiglam look might turn a few heads.”

“Your goth look is beautiful, that’s not my concern, I just don’t want you to feel out of place…the only one in jeans. Someone might sneer or make a comment and you know your temper.”

Donja spared a glance. “Yeah.”

“Think about it. Once that scar-faced freak finds out Torin marked you, he might retaliate. The Council can protect you…all of us.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Donja sighed.

Makayla headed for the door. “I have a coat that would rock that look. Let me get it for you.”

Gazing out the window, Donja saw Torin with an umbrella in one hand, a bouquet of flowers in the other, dashing for the front door. She took a breath, the smell of rain on dirt penetrating the window. A bolt of lightning coruscated the mamba black skies. She grasped the window and slammed it tight as a barrage of demonic raindrops pelted the glass.

“Here, this should work.” Makayla said.

Donja spun from the window.

Makayla handed her a luxurious knee-length coat.

“How nice,” Donja said, running her hands over the soft fur “but, it’s not—”

“No, it’s fake mink. I wouldn’t be caught dead in the real thing.” She took a step back and tilted her head. “Nice,” she whispered. “It compliments you my dear, you’re a true gothic vamp.”

“Vamp…hmmm, I think that would be him,” Donja smirked as she sashayed out the door and down the hallway, Makayla closely behind. Descending the stairs, she heard her mom’s voice and froze, rooted in place.

“And do you plan to live here or Italy?”

“Both,” Torin’s voice carried, “I will buy a home here so that Donja can finish school and be near you.”

Unobserved, Donja and Makayla inched closer, eyes locked on Torin and Lisa.

“And after she finishes school, will I ever see her again?” Lisa questioned.

“Of course. We will be here at times, traveling back and forth between the two homes.”

“Two homes?”

“Yes, as I mentioned, I will buy a home here, closer to town to accommodate her schooling and I already have a vast estate in Italy overlooking the Amalfi Coast. It’s beautiful,” he smiled, “and its only about a five-hour drive from Florence, which is quite lovely. You’re welcome, anytime. Believe me, you will enjoy visiting the medieval villages, boutiques and the cuisine is excellent,” he said, his voice as smooth as honey, “and the wineries of Tuscany are superb.”

“It sounds like you’ve got it all planned out but I’m curious. Rich boy meets average American girl. How do your parents feel about this—sudden marriage?”

Donja watched his face as his demeanor shifted. “My mother’s dead and my father and I are estranged. I’m alone, though I have more cousins, aunts, uncles and the like than I can count.”

Donja saw his nostrils flare.

He smells me, cover blown.

“Estranged from your father,” Lisa blurted with a bit of alarm in her voice, “I’m sorry but that just adds more questions to a growing list.”

Donja watched as Torin met Lisa’s suspicious eyes.

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