Catwoman: Soulstealer - Sarah J. Maas Page 0,25

You look young enough to still be in college.

He knew it was the wrong question when she stiffened. “They passed away years ago.”

Luke winced. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

He couldn’t imagine it. Even with all he’d gone through. That loss…He’d never recover.

Holly studied the rising elevator floor numbers. “Thank you.”

Silence fell, heavy and awkward. So he found himself asking, “You need a ride to the gala later?”

“No, thank you.” Again, that little smile returned. “I have my own ride.”

He blinked at her. Normally, they said yes. Normally, they asked him. “What brings you to Gotham?”

Holly examined her manicured nails for any flaws—a bored expression growing on her face that he’d seen a thousand times, from prep school to galas to brunches. “Europe got boring.”

Only someone with too much money and too little to do would say something like that. Someone who’d never been hungry or frightened or bothered to think how the rest of the world lived.

Or what they could do to help it.

He might have grown up with the world at his feet, but his parents hadn’t. And they’d made sure he never took any of it for granted. Working as Batwing, being in the Marines, had only reinforced that awareness and gratitude. And made Holly’s lack of it even more apparent.

Any sparkle in his blood simmered out.

“No job to entertain you?” he asked tightly, hoping she’d prove him wrong.

Again that bored look. “Why would I ever bother to work?”

He’d heard enough. Seen enough. He’d met her kind a hundred times. Had grown up with them. Why bother to work? Why bother to volunteer at a charity when money could just be handed over and bragging rights gained? Donations were more for tax purposes than kindness—how often he’d heard that notion. Holly was no different.

Luke lifted his tux in farewell. “Well, I hope we entertain you.” He strode down the hall, aiming for his door.

He felt, more than saw, her turn to watch him.

As the elevator doors opened and he slid his key into the lock, Holly said, “See you later, Luke Fox.”

He heard the promise in her voice and debated telling her she was now the last woman in Gotham City he’d bother letting through this door.

But he opted for ignoring her, knowing it’d rile someone of her ilk more than any insult.

He threw a glance over a shoulder at her as the elevator doors slid shut.

But she was already studying her nails again, frowning at whatever flaw she found.

A disappointment and a waste.

Gorgeous but spoiled.

Arrogant and well aware of his charm.

That’s how Selina decided she’d describe Luke Fox.

It had been disappointingly easy to deceive him. To make him believe the pathetic, spoiled words that came from her mouth. He was the same as the rest of them, who saw what they wanted to see.

And what he wanted, she’d read in about two heartbeats. Someone to entertain him.

Oh, she’d known what mark she was hitting with the Europe got boring and Why would I work? comments. Knew she was playing into what he hated, what he likely was trying to escape from so badly that a new neighbor seemed interesting, but…Selina was willing to admit she’d been hoping he’d be a little more suspicious. A little more aware that the nails and hair and non-accent were fake.

Sometimes it felt as if there were nothing left of Selina Kyle at all. As if she were well and truly gone, her body now little more than a shape-shifter’s skin. Holly’s skin. To be donned and wielded.

The thought clanged through her, hollow and cold.

None of Gotham City’s richest, in the two weeks she’d already been here, had noticed that she was an imposter, either. Show up at the right restaurants, the right fund-raisers, and the invitations pour in. Flush with foreign cash, Holly Vanderhees was well on her way to being the socialite of the season.

She wondered if the idiots would ever realize that the same parties she’d attended were ones where people had gone home to find an emerald bracelet or a Rolex missing.

But those little thefts were just to make them uneasy. Start questioning each other.

She’d learned most of the sleight of hand when she was a Leopard.

Selina still remembered that first robbery, though. Still thought of it often.

Her hands were shaking.

It was all she could think about as she sat on the park bench in the midday sunshine and monitored those passing by. How her shaking hands would get her caught. Thrown

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