drinking their wine. The weres picked at their cucumber as if touching it would make them gain weight. What was wrong with these people?
I needed to eat.
And so I did.
I ate my chicken wing clean. I devoured the cucumber. And the cut-up date. Then I marched out to the living room and loaded up on appetizers—caviar, lamb with goat cheese, fancy fruity tarts. I ate it all. And when I was done with that plate, I went and got another.
Bliss growled. Francine sneered. Tia stared, openmouthed.
Nina couldn’t care less. “More wine?” she asked the table.
She shrugged off her Puritan husband’s glare. “What? I’m just being a good hostess.”
Everyone agreed to refills, except for me. I hadn’t touched my glass. I’d never been one for alcohol. And now that I had my third plate of lamb thingies and a raging psychic hangover, forget it.
The waiter started pouring at the other end of the table and the bottle of white was long gone by the time it reached our end. Nina cracked open another and gave me a healthy pour.
“Thanks,” I said, “but I’ve gotta save room for the ham puffs.”
Bliss stared at me as I slid my glass over to Lucien.
He winked at me and drank.
CHAPTER 8
I cleared away the rest of the lamb, all of the puff pastries, and a good portion of the caviar. I’d never been huge on fish, much less their eggs, but it was there. And the crackers weren’t half-bad, either.
“Bet you never even heard of a saltine,” I said to Nina.
“I’ll drink to that,” she said, either half-soused or highly amused, probably both.
“Here, here,” I said, toasting her with the last of the caviar.
I had plenty to celebrate. Topping the list was the fact that I had not been eaten by a tiger tonight.
The vampires had lost interest by this time and were busy trying to one-up each other on who had endured the most annoying minions. Points were given for base groveling, years served, and most obnoxious way they died. And it seemed they always died.
Big surprise there.
Yet another reason why no self-respecting weregirl should bind herself to a guy like that.
I licked a bit of caviar off my fingers.
Of course I did notice Lucien hadn’t joined in on the minion talk. In fact, he looked a little green. Good for him. Using people was just plain wrong.
I nudged him. “You feeling okay?”
He nodded. “Slightly put off by the conversation.”
Lucien used a napkin to wipe his forehead and a trickle of perspiration glinted near his ear.
I’d never seen him sweat before. I’d never even seen him warm.
His chin dipped and he braced his hands on the edge of the table. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was struggling to remain upright.
I covered his hand with mine. “Cripes.” Something was definitely wrong. “You’re burning up.”
I flagged down the waiter. “Can we get him some water?”
He was abnormally pale.
Everyone at the table was watching now—except Bliss. She’d become quite interested in her gold bracelets.
Then it hit me with a sickening thud. “You drugged him, didn’t you?”
Her eyes locked with mine. “No.”
She’d answered too fast, and without a hint of surprise.
Bliss had been after me. I’d given my wine to Lucien right before he got sick.
I ran a finger along the inside of his glass and found traces of glitter. Slimprol.
Of all the ... Fury welled up inside me as I stalked toward the tiger. “Now would be a really good time to tell me what’s in Slimprol.”
She stood, her chair toppling over. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I resisted the urge to grab her by the braid and shake her. Barely.
“Get him into the car,” I said, refusing to turn my back on the tiger.
Vinny hoisted Lucien out of his chair.
“Is he okay?” Tia stammered, bobbing in her chair, clearly afraid to stand.
“No, Tia,” I bristled. “He’s not okay.”
But he would be. I’d see to it myself.
I snarled at Bliss and a blaze of triumph shot through me when she backed up a step.
She’d messed with the wrong werewife.
“I’m not through with you,” I said, as Francine led her away.
That’s it. Run, tiger.
It took all I had not to chase her.
Soon. Right now, I had to take care of my own.
Lucien was getting sleepier and sleepier. His head dipped and Vinny had to readjust his grip as he took on more of Lucien’s weight. I helped make way for them as they rounded the table.
Lucien’s breathing grew shallower with each breath. “I don’t