when I was little—that I looked so much like my mommy.
“There, much better,” she says jovially. “More subtle and natural.”
I can’t argue. She’s right. My natural lips are full, just like hers, but now they look swollen.
Perfectly pink and kissable.
I’m sure that wasn’t her intention, obviously, but I have a feeling she’ll regret adding that teensy finishing touch to my make-up once she realizes I won’t be unaccompanied for the evening.
♫ Glad You Came - The Wanted ♫
I’m mid-conversation with Marlena, Aester—another piece of the Sacred Six—and my father when the sound of cackling laughter draws my attention to the other side of the room. Said cackles are coming from a few of my boys. At first, I can’t see what has them so entertained...until Assad and Emil step aside, granting me an unprecedented view.
I nearly drop my glass, my jaw falling slack.
Tinksley stands at the foot of the staircase, looking as exquisite as ever in this striking, form-fitting aquamarine gown. I could eat her alive right at this very moment.
That’s how spectacular she looks. Appetizing. Tempting. My mouth waters, cock pulsing at the indecent images flitting through my mind.
Until I see Pan firmly at her side.
Pan, who’s being eyed by everyone in attendance and mildly tormented by the brood.
A satisfied smirk plays on my face at his expense.
I know, I told the council civil amiability was expected across the board and yada, yada, yada, but that freak is a common enemy amongst the factions. The chances of anyone complaining about what’s fair or exceptions for my kind are slim to none. It’s clear by the sea of disgusted looks that no one wants him here, much less concerned with what happens to him.
So I let the boys have their fun.
If it gets out of hand, I’ll step in and break it up, but I don’t foresee that being necessary.
Pan will run, mark my words. He may be immortal, but he’s no match for a vampire, and he knows it.
He already has that pathetic look on his face as Kaz and Malik shove him around, Emil’s taunts growing louder in the background. As predicted, he whispers something to Tinksley, sets a seemingly reassuring kiss to her cheek, and retreats up the steps to the exit without looking back.
Without her.
That’s right, keep walking.
Poor Tinksley seems shocked, mouth popped ajar at the unexpected turn of events. And yet just as quickly, her expression flares brightly with anger. I’m not the only one who catches it, either; the boys do, too. Emil attempts apologizing on their behalf, but she squares up with him—toe to toe—mutters something through narrowed eyes, and then she’s off.
Speeding across the marble floors in full-blown outrage.
I’m moving before I can process it, practically shoving my drink into Cassius’ chest in my haste to get to her. A haste that is, apparently, inevident. At least three guests try to stop me despite the fact it’s very clear I’m in a hurry. Irritated, I jerk around them, nearly shoving them aside in the process of following her lingering scent.
The north wing balcony.
That's where she leads me. Overlooking the lush garden and miles of clear ocean waters, I find her storming around in ire, prattling on to herself about Pan. It’s kind of adorable and, all too soon, I’m stopping a foot or two away.
I don’t move.
Don’t speak.
Just listen and wait.
Can’t be more than a full minute before she finally spins around on a frustrated growl, one that morphs into a startled gasp at the sight of me looming so closely behind her.
“Jesus, Callan.” Hand glued to her chest, the speedy tempo of her heartbeat thumps in my ears as the echo of my name on her lips threatens to ruin my composure.
Very few people dare to address me by it, but coming from her—I like it.
Perhaps a little too much.
I chuckle. “Sorry, love. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She’s unconvinced. The look on her face says it all. “And yet that was pretty much a given when you snuck up on me.”
I lift both hands, give her a little shake of my head. “Wasn’t my intention, I swear it. I saw you run out here. Simply ensuring you’re okay is all.”
Tinksley considers my admission for a moment or two, sleek eyebrow arched in question. “Well,” she straightens out her gown, “while your...concern is appreciated, Captain, I can assure you I’m just fine.”
I cock my head aside. “You sure about that?”
“Positive,” she mutters.
“Didn’t seem that way when Peter left you without a glance