“Yep.”
“You’re on.”
I slipped from the room with a stupid smile on my face, thankful my cousin didn’t reveal my pathetic stalking. What I wouldn’t have given to have been part of that conversation in corporeal form. God damn it, I wanted Raquel to see me—like me—laugh with me.
I was an idiot. A huge fucking idiot.
Chapter 3
"If you stopped playing hide the salami with her, daring her to do stupid shit, and actually got to know her, you'd probably save us a lot of money in home furnishings," Astrid groused as she pulled me toward the Grand Ballroom. "I hate these fucking cocktail parties. I have several hundred years to go before I can drink anything but blood, so getting drunk is out. And most of these damn Vamps bore me to tears."
"I have no clue what you mean," I insisted as I picked up my pace and tried to drag her into the ballroom so the conversation would end.
Every so often Ethan threw formal parties for his people. With Raquel’s European assembly visiting, the soirees had been nonstop. However, Raquel rarely attended.
"Give me a break. Anyone with ears, bionic or not, could hear you two boinking this morning. Quit yanking on my arm," she snapped. "You know you like her. I can tell. I noticed it when we offed all those Demons at the Caves a couple of months ago."
Jesus, I didn't need this. "I do not like Raquel. She is rude and violent and… "
"And smokin' hot and you totally like her. Nothing gets by me," she informed me with a huge grin. "I think she's your mate."
"And I think you're smoking crack," I shot back.
My mate? Bullshit. I didn't need a mate who would joyously kill me when my back was turned. I didn't need a mate who threw Ming vases for a hobby. I didn't need a mate at all. Period.
I was single, lonely, and loving it. No. Wait. I was single and loving it.
"I am not smoking crack, my very handsome cousin with the to-die-for dimples." Astrid grinned and punched me in the arm. "Can't breathe—can't smoke. That's how I got into this shit show to start with."
Astrid had been turned into a Vampyre when she’d gone to a hypnotist to stop smoking and ended up undead. One of the strangest turnings I'd ever heard of, but what was done was done. She was clearly meant to be one of us because she was a True Immortal.
"Astrid," I said with a smile through clenched teeth. "While I appreciate your concern, Raquel is not my mate. I don't like the woman and she most definitely doesn't like me. I'd even go as far to say that she hates me. So I can assure there will be no mating any time in the near future."
"You know, my cousin," she purred as we entered the ballroom, effectively ending our appalling talk. "There is a very thin line between love and hate."
I sighed as my gaze travelled a full room. I despised it when Astrid got the last word in.
***
The ballroom was filled with Vampyres dressed to kill. No pun intended.
Many were leaving the compound in Kentucky tomorrow and going to France to attend a yearly Summit with the Angels. I expected Raquel to leave with them as she was the Princess of the European territory.
The thought of Raquel leaving left an unsettled feeling inside me, which I decided to ignore. A bare bones contingency of fifty would stay behind to protect Prince Ethan, Astrid and Samuel. I was happy to have an excuse to get out of meeting with the Angels. Angelic? Yes. But were they pleasant? No.
"Sweet cousin Jesus in a hula skirt," Astrid muttered as she glanced around the ballroom. "This clusterfuck makes me want to chew glass and swallow it."
I had to agree but stayed mum. Vampyre politics were a bore. Watching the sucking up and posturing had grown tiresome over the years. But Astrid and I were both expected to deal.
"There's a band," I observed. "I suppose there will be dancing."
"Thank God. I should have invited Mother Nature. She would have twerked and scared the shit out of everyone. That would have cleared the room in a minute flat," she said with an evil grin.
Astrid's grandmother on her father's side was Mother Nature—the most delightfully insane woman in existence. Of course, there would have been twerking and pole dancing, but there would have also been a forest exploding out of the marble floor and a zoo of animals in her wake. Ethan had just repaired the compound from her last visit. A new visit would not be welcome.
"I have to go stand next to Ethan and pretend I'm listening to all the Vamps kissing his ass. They're all vying for an invite to the wedding even though they think it’s ridiculous," she said.
Vampyres mated. They didn't marry. Marriage was a vow that could be broken, while mating was not. Most Vampyres ridiculed the human tradition of marriage, but not my cousin. Astrid was a newly turned Vampyre and her human traditions were still important to her. She played it off well, but I knew the derision hurt her.
"Astrid," I said as I took her hand in mine.
"Yes, Heathcliff?" she asked with an eye roll.
"I don't think it's stupid at all. You should have what you want."
She stopped and glanced at the floor for a moment, then up at me gratefully. "I don't think it's stupid either," she whispered. "I want to marry Ethan more than I've ever wanted anything."
"More than Prada?" I teased.
She barely missed a beat. "Yep, more than Prada, Gucci and Stella McCartney. You gonna be okay on your own, my devastatingly handsome cousin?" she inquired with a sly grin.