Blood of Zeus (Blood of Zeus #1) - Meredith Wild Page 0,52

and a smoky laugh.

“Thank you, President McCarthy. I am so honored to be here.”

The cafe lights swaying gently in the evening breeze cast a warm glow on the rest of the crowd gathered around cocktail tables covered in Alameda’s school colors, crimson and gray. Many in the throng are here out of obligation, like Maximus, who I’ve yet to spot. But I suspect more are here for an opportunity to rub shoulders with a Valari or the handful of celebrities attaching themselves to the event for PR opportunities.

As my mother launches into her prepared speech, a warm hand brushes against my lower back. My heart lurches in a blur of hope, anticipation, and excitement—though every shred of the euphoria falls away when Arden, not Maximus, slides up beside me. The man’s eyes are blacker than the sky beyond the spotlights, and his smile is a smooth show of confident assumption.

“Lovely to see you again, Kara,” he murmurs silkily. He lifts his cocktail to his mouth. The way he beams his gaze over the rim of the glass is unsettling, like a hunter who won’t take his eyes off his prey.

“Mr. Prieto. I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

“Please, call me Arden. We’re going to be spending quite a bit of time together after all. No point in carrying on with the formalities.”

The crowd titters at something my mother’s saying. Probably a humblebrag disguised as an attempt at self-deprecating humor. But the wealthy client under the spotlight fails to distract Arden. He’s all about looking at me now. Endlessly. Excruciatingly. Long seconds drag by as he keeps raking his gaze over me.

“That’s an exquisite dress.”

I wish I couldn’t feel his palpable appreciation of it, but the oily energy is rolling off him. I contemplate cutting through the heaviness of his admiration and confessing that I chose the scarlet gown with the provocative cuts for someone else. But as charming as demons can be, they can turn equally vicious with very little prodding. I’m not in the mood to test this one.

“Thank you.”

He sets his empty glass on the table, edging closer to me as he does. I try not to visibly bristle at his intimate—or at least very friendly—proximity.

“I have some friends at the college,” he says, his tone cool and confident, exactly the way he carries himself. “I don’t usually come to these things, but when I heard you’d be here, I thought I’d drop by and say hello.”

I answer with an awkward shrug. “Hello then, I guess.”

He smirks at that. “Your mother tells me you’re quite the passionate academic. This is your last year at Alameda, right?”

“It is. I’ll be sad to leave.”

“And what will you do after?”

My heart falls as I contemplate the truth ahead of me. The fate that looms closer with every passing day. “I’d love to continue on with graduate studies, but I think my mother’s patience has worn thin waiting for me to get more involved in family affairs. She has a lot of projects in the works.”

He nods with a quiet hum. “I suppose I’m one of those projects.” Something glimmers in his eyes that matches the secretive smile he wears. “She’s quite determined to build a collection that will stamp the Valari name on the world of art and antiquities. It’s inspiring. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t eager to start.”

“Who could tire of spending someone else’s money so glamorously?” I manage to hide some of the sarcasm beneath the words.

But the look he levels at me makes me wonder if I succeeded.

“I think we both know it’s about more than money. Not like it has any value in other realms.”

At his reference to the underworld, I’m quietly curious how well he knows it.

“Then what is it about? Enlighten me.”

He cants his head, a curious frown pulling his dark brows together. To a lot of other females, human or demon, I suppose he’d be found beautiful. His features are carved and sleek, finished with a strong jaw, an expressive mouth, and a dazzling smile—though his scrutinizing stare holds no warmth or admiration. It has me wishing I could look away, but something about his energy makes me want to hold my ground.

“Establishing dominance,” he finally says, his voice sharpening.

Of course it is.

I blink my way clear of the barely veiled challenge he’s seemingly issued. I don’t like it, nor how he’s issued it, but that’s a secondary point right now. “I suppose that’s my mother’s department.” I’m more sad than