you hear Ethan too?”
“Yep—the impossible is always possible. Do not forget that,” Levi said. “You’re the loudest fucking thinker and talker I have ever come across. It’s incredibly annoying.”
“Ethan,” I hissed, keeping a smile on my face for the crowd. “Denim Jackhole Face can hear us.”
“Caught that—rather inconvenient,” he replied dryly. “I’d suggest you keep it nonsexual. Might get uncomfortable.”
“Please,” Levi said with a moan of disgust. “There’s only so much a Demon can take.”
“You really are an assbag,” I told him.
“Your point?” Levi asked.
“No point. Simply a very accurate observation.”
“Nicely played,” Levi congratulated me. “I do believe your guests of honor have arrived.”
He was correct. At the entrance of the ballroom were three of the most beautiful Vampyres I’d ever seen. Wilhem was tall, broad and darkly handsome. His tux was impeccably cut, and he reeked of power. His eyes went immediately to his brother. He nodded and winked. Wilhem’s gaze landed on me next, and he gave me a friendly nod of respect. I returned the greeting.
Maybe he wasn’t as much of an asshole as described.
The one I guessed to be his gal pal, due to the fact she had barnacled herself to the Vampyre in an act of ownership, had chocolate-brown hair, lovely pale skin and piercing green eyes. Her Chanel dress was the same green as her eyes. She had an unusual scar running from the side of her left eye to the corner of her full lips. On anyone else it would look unfortunate, but not her. It somehow made her more mysterious and alluring… and fragile.
“Uh oh,” I said. “Wilhem’s consort is a girly girl.”
“Looks that way,” Ethan agreed. “He tends to go for the helpless damsels in distress.”
The woman was small in stature, but that meant nothing. I’d seen Vamps smaller than her do extreme damage.
“Means he has a small dick,” Levi interjected.
I literally choked on my spit trying not to laugh. Ethan didn’t hold back and just let it rip. He received a few strange glances, but he was the Vampyre Prince. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. Many joined in on his laughter with no clue why.
“Are you going to narrate the shitshow with inappropriate comments all night?” I asked Lord Wrangler Tough Skins.
“Yes.”
“Mmkay, good to know,” I replied. Honestly, I was glad. It would make the evening go much faster.
I wasn’t crazy about women who didn’t hold their own, but Wilhem’s gal pal wasn’t my problem. She was Ethan’s brother’s problem. And hopefully they wouldn’t be staying long.
However, it was Anastasia who I found the most riveting. She scanned the crowd and rolled her eyes. I wanted to laugh but figured I’d save it. She was as blonde as Ethan and had blazingly bright sapphire-blue eyes. Her lips were full, and her cheekbones could cut glass. Anastasia stood about six feet tall in her heels and had a knockout figure. I coveted her hot pink Dolce and Gabbana dress. The gorgeous Vampyre clearly didn’t suffer fools if her attitude was anything to go by. Ethan’s earlier assessment was correct. I already knew I was going to like Anastasia.
The uppity Vampyre announcer stood next to the trio and cleared his throat. “I present to you Wilhem, Prince of the South American Dominion, and Anastasia, Princess of the Australian Dominion.”
The guests applauded politely.
The gal pal pinched Wilhem’s arm and hissed something in his ear. He patted her hand and basically ignored her. Apparently, she wasn’t getting the royal treatment she thought she deserved and wasn’t pleased. She then turned her ire on the announcer and hissed something at him. The Vampyre shrugged politely, shook his head helplessly and bowed to her.
“Interesting,” I said. “Guess the consort doesn’t merit an intro. Nice of Dead Door Dude to try and smooth it over before she loses her shit.”
“None of that bodes well,” Ethan said with a chuckle. “While Wilhem is an asshole, he’s quite proper. If the woman wasn’t introduced, it was on purpose. He’s probably going to ditch her.”
“Not here, he’s not,” I muttered.
“Oh my God,” the nameless woman hanging off of Wilhem’s arm cried out in distress, pointing at the dais and behaving as if she was about to faint—which was ridiculous, since Vamps didn’t faint. “Why is there a Demon present? This is not right.”
Great. She was an undead, Demon-phobic drama queen.
“I really don’t like her,” I muttered as I stepped forward. “Oh shit,” I yelled back. “Are you serious? Where?”
“There,” she said, looking at me like I’d lost