“Is turning this place into an icebox also a negotiating technique?” I asked.
“Anything that creates discomfort is a technique.” He unbuttoned his jacket, as though to offer it to me.
Before he could, I walked off, heels clicking on the hardwood floors. “We’ll wait for them on the terrace then.”
Matt caught up to me, matching my brusque pace. “Don’t separate yourself from the group, Ness.”
A new chill swept up my spine at his warning, and then another locked my knees when I stepped into the two-storied living room. Standing right beside the entrance was Lucy, flaming hair coiffed in neat waves, pert smile slicked with red lipstick. She was dressed in a black shift that accentuated all of her curves and the milky paleness of her freckled skin. She proffered a silver platter topped with shot glasses.
“Welcome,” she said, the ashen stink of her breath grating me almost as much as her presence.
“Mrs. Clark,” Matt said.
“Oh. Just Lucy now. Haven’t you heard? As of this afternoon, I am no longer a Clark. The dirt over my son’s grave has barely settled, and already, I’m cast out of the family I gave twenty years of my life to.” She turned the full power of her icy smile on me. “The Clarks are a fickle bunch.”
“Why are you serving at this party, Lucy?” Liam’s question shifted my aunt’s attention on him.
“Aidan Michaels has just made me director of the inn.”
“You accepted a job from your son’s killer?” Lucas said. “That’s sick.”
Aidan, who’d stepped onto the terrace, came back inside, dog-free. Had he set them loose or tied them to the balustrade?
“Now now, Lucas, I didn’t kill Everest. But you know that since the killer’s in your custody, is he not?”
Aidan Michaels’s knowledge of us was truly chilling.
“Just because you didn’t get your hands dirty, old man, doesn’t mean they aren’t filthy as fuck,” Lucas shot back.
“It’s a real shame you were raised by a pack of wolves, Lucas. An education would’ve done your speech wonders.”
Lucas reeled his arm back, but Cole caught it before Lucas could let his fist fly into Aidan’s jaw.
“Jumpy tonight, aren’t we?” Aidan nodded to the platter before lifting one of the diminutive glasses. “Why don’t you try our welcome drink? It’s lovely. Lucy made it herself with rose water distilled from her prized roses.”
Just the scent wafting from the glasses had my eyes stinging.
“And what else did you put in there again, my dear?” Aidan asked, tapping his index finger to the flared rim of his shot glass.
“Sillin?” Matt supplied under his breath.
“Vodka and sugar syrup,” Lucy said brightly.
“Sillin?” Aidan’s eyebrows rose, crinkling his forehead. “Now why would she have used Sillin? It wouldn’t have added any flavor to this exquisite drink.”
“How do you know the flavor of Sillin?” Liam asked, narrowing his gaze on the hunter.
Aidan thumbed his ear, then pressed his wire-rimmed glasses back up the bridge of his nose even though they hadn’t slid down. “When I research something, Liam, I do so thoroughly,” he finally said. He raised his glass and waited, but none of us followed his lead. “Your loss.” He knocked the clear drink back, then smacked his lips. “Absolutely delightful, just like the woman who concocted it.”
Was Aidan Michaels hitting on my aunt-former aunt? Yuck.
When two spots of color rose to her cheeks, I gagged. I must’ve done so audibly, because she glared at me, smile gone.
Voices suddenly rose in the foyer.
“I believe more guests have arrived. Shall we go out to greet them, Lucy?”
Aidan took the platter from her hands and offered Lucy his arm. And she took it.
“More guests, and still no host,” Matt said, gaze sunk on the darkening forest that swayed beyond the overhanging porch like wet paintbrushes.
Liam tipped his chin toward the terrace, and the boys followed him out. I was still too stunned by what I’d just witnessed to move.
“Ness?” August’s voice pierced the gray fog of my thoughts.
I released my elbows, letting my hands drop into the fluffy, itchy tulle. “Jeb can’t come. He’ll-He’ll… atted my skirt as though to locate a pocket, but I had no pocket just like I had no bag. I hadn’t thought I would need to bring anything since my uncle was coming. “Can you call him, August? Tell him not to come.” My voice was shrill with nerves. “I don’t want him to… to see what we just witnessed.”
August fished his phone out of his pants pocket and pressed on the screen before lifting it to his ear. As he spoke, I caught sight of a familiar blonde and expelled a breath of relief.
Sarah walked over to me in a shimmery gown that made her look more goddess than wolf. “I heard the Creeks were late.”
“You didn’t drink the shots, did you?” I whispered urgently.
She nocked a crooked grin onto her glossy lips. “Wouldn’t dream of ingesting anything Creep-made.” Winking, she threaded her arm through mine and pulled me toward the terrace, but I dug my heels in.
“Did you get him on the phone?” I asked August.
“I did. He’ll stay home.”
A trickle of relief dripped through me, too little to do away with my gnawing anxiety. “I have such a bad feeling,” I murmured to Sarah as we joined the others on the deck.
She squeezed my arm. “It’ll be fine.”
Even though her voice didn’t waver, her optimism did little to reassure me. Perhaps it was because Liam looked as though he was about to snap someone’s head off and Lucas hadn’t taken a jab at Sarah’s appearance as he usually did, even though he’d stared her up and down a couple times. Or perhaps it was because of the matching grim expressions August and the two Rogers brothers wore.
Whatever it was, I braced myself for utter chaos. Better to be pleasantly surprised than surprisingly disappointed.
Julian Matz strolled through the living room as though he owned the place, his sister, Nora, hanging from his arm.
“Is your father here?” I asked Sarah.
Surprise, or was it shock, puckered her brow. “My father had a falling-out with my uncle some years ago. He’s no longer welcomed to pack gatherings.”
“Your parents are divorced?”
“No, but they lead separate lives.”
“Oh.”