Evanescent - By Addison Moore Page 0,16

doesn’t have a thing to do with it.” I let out a breath and examine her like this. The final step before I pull her all the way in. She wants this, and I want this for her—for us. “It’s an intimate branch of the Countenance that only those showing true interest in the lineage are privy to.”

“I have true interest. I want to do this with you.” She says it so fast, she doesn’t leave room for dispute. Laken is anxious to learn. I’ve never seen a new recruit thirstier.

“Good. I’m glad. I really think this could bond us as a couple, but you don’t have to do this for the sake of our relationship. We could share other things. I would never hold it against you if you weren’t into it.”

She brings my hand to her lips and plants a kiss over it. I wish Wes would see how serious I am. There’s not a thing on this planet I don’t want to share with him, and being an Ensign, whatever it is, will pull us that much closer.

I give a private smile.

“Wednesday night there’s a special meeting—a gathering. The girls division is called the Treasures, so you wouldn’t be an Ensign, but it’s essentially the same thing. I’ll introduce you to the group. If you want, we can do an initiation that night.”

“Wednesday?” Her gaze slips past my shoulder a moment. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

I take her in and tighten my grip around her waist.

“You won’t regret this. I have a feeling this will bring us closer than you’d ever imagine.”

“Oh, I’m hoping it will.” She gives an impish grin.

Eternal bonds are involved—monogamous covenants that will link us together for the rest of existence could be on the line if I make the proper arrangements.

And I will.

3

Hearts like Broken Glass

Laken

Rain falls in sheets, causing the lights at Austen House to flicker every now and again, followed by a sizzle of lightning bold enough to illuminate the secrets of the night. But not even a lightning storm of this magnitude can detour Flynn from bouncing onto my bed with expectations that will never be met.

“And by the way”—I take a seat at my desk and flip open my laptop—“don’t ever come into the library and start talking shop with Wes in the vicinity. That’s sloppy. One misstep and I’ll be the offering at the next unholy slaughter.”

“Got it.” He groans while getting comfortable on my mattress. “Let’s get my sister out of hock, and we won’t have to worry about me interrupting your suck-face time with Romeo. And what’s up with that? I thought you and Coop had something going.”

“Nope.” I’m quick to deflect the accusation. “The old Wes is trapped in that body, and it’s my responsibility to get him out. He’d do the same for me. Besides, didn’t you hear? Coop is taking Grayson to homecoming.”

Flynn gives a little laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” A guilty grin spreads over his face. Flynn is gorgeous in that surfer-boy-next-door kind of way.

“Something’s up—spill it.”

“Last summer Coop was messing with her for kicks, and I was, too.” He shrugs. “No big deal, unless you’re Cooper keep-away-from-my-girl’s-crotch Flanders. He was pretty pissed when he found out.”

My mouth falls open at the revelation.

Flynn averts his eyes for a moment. “Grayson didn’t think it was that big of a deal either—so don’t go painting me like some big bad wolf.”

“Cooper was messing with Grayson?” My dinner does a solid revolution in my stomach, and suddenly I want to hurl it across the room at Flynn for the hell of it. And in no way do I want a definition of the word messing.

“Yeah, so? I was, too. Grayson gets around. She’s not a trophy catch like you.” He tosses Casper’s old teddy bear at me.

“What’s a trophy catch?” I’m pretty sure I don’t want to know, but if my girl parts are up for a prize, I should be enlightened.

“Trophy catch, you know—hard to get. You’re probably a virgin, so it’s made of win.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not, so I guess my stock just tanked.” Tucker Donavan runs through my mind like an armed robber bagging my vagina and taking off with it like some million dollar heist. Only, I gave it away for far less than a million dollars—I believe a cheeseburger and the backseat of his Camaro were involved.

“No kidding, huh? You sleep with that fake Wes of yours?”

Fake Wes. I know I’ve referenced Wes that way before, but I don’t like the