The Rush (The Siren Series) - By Rachel Higginson Page 0,117

go. I hung out near the entry way, straightening the kitchen and wasting time while I waited for my mother to do…. whatever it was she needed to do before we left. She made a big deal about being there on time but if Nix wasn’t waiting on her, my mother was under the impression that she needed to make everybody wait on her.

Including me.

Finally she walked into the kitchen looking the same as when I left her. Her dress was made by a different designer, but basically the same style and her hair was maybe fluffed, but that was it. She gave me a scathing, calculated glance before I received the nod of approval. Ugh, and we were just going to dinner with other women!

A Towncar was waiting for us when we reached the ground floor, heaven forbid my mother drive. And then we were silent until we reached Sloane’s sprawling midtown home. I realized when the car stopped in front of Sloane’s house that Exie’s mother, Echo, hadn’t thrown a party in a while.

There was only a second to contemplate that before my own mother was rapping her knuckles against the black painted door and Thalia was welcoming us with her wide, fake smile and perfectly coiffed black hair.

“So happy you could finally join us,” Thalia cooed, referencing my mother’s inability to be on time.

“So are we,” my mother echoed without any enthusiasm. Technically we were all chained to the same destiny, working for Nix, but somehow my mother and I as sirens held a higher rank of respectability than Exie or Sloane’s family. It had something to do with our ability to bring in the cash.

Basically because we could be bigger sluts than them, we were worth more.

Disgusting, right?

“The girls are in the dining room, Ivy,” Thalia mentioned over her shoulder before she escorted my mother to the kitchen where a fresh cocktail would be waiting for her.

I left them without a word and worked my way to the dining room. I didn’t meet anyone on the way so I had to assume this was a small gather. Hopefully the party was contained to my mom and me, Exie’s family and Sloane’s family. All women, so it was bound to get catty after a while, but it was better than performing for middle-aged men and pretending I was interested the entire night.

Especially after talking to Ryder. There was this rebellious freedom pulsing through my veins tonight and I knew I couldn’t be trusted to perform.

He had lit something inside me, something that demanded to be set free. But the rational part of my brain warned that it was still too soon. That until my trust fund was available I still had a part to play.

“Well, hey there gorgeous,” Anaxandra called as I walked into the dining room. The long French vintage table, set to accommodate all of us, shined with polish and pretty cornflower blue patterned China.

“Hey,” I smiled. I held back my disappointment at seeing Anaxandra and Evaleen already seated with Exie and Sloane. I wanted a few minutes alone with them so I could tell them about Ryder, but now was obviously the wrong time. “So what is this? Dinner with the families?”

“The families”was what we called our inner circle, a reference to the mob. Not that we were the mob, although there were definite connections, but in this area of the country, my family, Exie’s and Sloane’s were the top of the pyramid.

“Organizational,” Evaleen confirmed.

“Strategic and logistical,” Sloane added, rolling her eyes.

“So we’ll be here for what, the next twelve hours? Hope your mom ordered lots of alcohol,” I groaned.

“Did Ava tell you nothing about this?” Evaleen asked suspiciously.

“We’re not on the best of terms right now.” I avoided their eyes and focused on finding the right chair…. far enough away from the adults that I could actually enjoy dinner without being obvious about ignoring my mother.

“Why not? What happened this time?” Anaxandra gasped. She was the one who taught me how valuable my mother was. Our mothers were our only allies in this world. Where a friend’s mother would only view me as competition for her own daughter, it behooved my mother for me to do well. Ava always treated me like royalty before Sam and my six month exile; I was her crowning jewel, her legacy. But now I was this dark cloud over her carefully plotted parade.

If I cared before, I didn’t now. Ava’s only motivation for treating me well before