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A glass of brandy dangles between her fingers. “Lover boy, what’s wrong?” Her crimson hair flows down the angle of her back.
I stop. “Did you know about the girls? That they’ve been training for almost as long as we have?”
She lifts the glass to her lips, her lovat-tinted eyes on mine. She doesn’t have to answer because I already know what it is.
I ignore her, heading for the hallway that leads to the open space where we have our conversations while we’re here.
“War! I was only doing what I was—” I kick the door closed once I’m inside and suck in a breath. I find what I want on top of the square coffee table nestled between two wingback leather sofas. I slump down into the cushions and reach for the platinum box that’s on the table, flicking away the eight-ball of coke and nabbing the rolled blunt. My skin dampens from all the adrenaline pulsing through my system. Anger. Rage that I need to work off.
I grip the bottom of my shirt and shove it over my head, tossing it onto the floor.
I place the joint between my lips, blaze the end, and drag my fingers through my hair. I lean back against my chair and gaze up to the ceiling as I shove my jeans down enough to reveal the band of my briefs.
Fuck.
I should have fucked Halen instead of giving her all that fucking pleasure. Now I want to take it back and make the bitch weep.
I hold in the smoke and let the toffee-laced weed fill my lungs.
When the door opens again, I breathe out a cloud of smoke, letting it float up to the gold-plated ceiling. My muscles relax, but the rage still burns the back of my mind. It’ll stay there. Until I make her hurt.
It’s a shit place for her to be when I’m feeling this way.
As soon as she walks through the door, I feel her. Her emerald eyes sweep over my body before settling on my face. I give her nothing.
If I can’t give her anger, I’ll give hernothing.
Everyone files in around her and when the door closes, I’ve smoked enough herb to not see red.
Priest saunters to the computer desk and leans against the edge. His finger taps against the structure and I count how many times it connects with the wood.One. Two. Three. Four—five.He’s bored, combating the hunger to sink his fingers into fresh meat.
“Start talking.”
“Well…” Stella trudges her thigh-high boots to the sofa beside mine. She folds her leg over the other and spreads her arms over the edge of the couch. “Like Halen said. We have been training for the better part of ten years for this. We, just like you all—” She points her black coffin-shaped nail to all of us. “—made ourselves busy with little hobbies on the side.”
“Where did you train?” Vaden isn’t pissed because the way he sees it, and the way he’s always seen it, is if she’s close to us, she’s safe. He wants his little vampire sister in the fold. This is a win for him and their Addams family.
I wonder just how much they have in common…
“Everywhere. Mainly in the art of manipulation—” She holds her brother’s stare. “—false complacency, strategizing, that sort of thing.” Her mouth splinters wide, flaunting her bleached teeth. Stella is a fucking kick in the nuts to people around the world, because the girl is famed for her beauty. But she’s a little witch, and I don’t mean her appearance.
I lean forward, resting my forearms on my thighs. “I wonder…” I tilt my head and seconds pass before Priest clucks from behind me. He no doubt knows what I’m about to ask. “Just how alike are you to your brother…” My tongue swoops over my teeth. “Wanna help me find out?”
If Halen thinks because my mom and Stella’s mom found out that they have the same mom would stop me from being a piece of shit, she’s wrong. Do I want Halen? More than I’ve wanted anything in my life, but do I love pain? More than anything in my life…
Stella’s leg stops jiggling and she shifts her body toward mine. “Are you into incest now?”
My lip twitches. “I’m betting you’re fucking worth it.”
“Back the fuck up. Play your games with anyone else…” Vaden rolls his eyes.
Priest passes the sofa that’s opposite her, reaching into the drug box and pulling out the bag of white powder. He tosses it onto the table. “He’s just keeping it in the family.”
And there it is.
I chuckle, resting my hand on my abs and the joint back between my lips. “Fine.” My eyes move to River. It all makes sense. Why we were told that one day, we would have to switch off our emotions to allow logic in.
It was for this. Because this was the plan all along.
