Charlie looked amazing. Seeing the way she sparkled in a dress like that made me wonder how different things would’ve been had we grown up as a pair.
I hated dresses. Almost as much as I hated parties. Everyone wandering around to the beat of watered-down elevator music and flashing their pasted-on smiles at each other, making small talk about the weather or who had the better patrol schedule … All so they could try to one-up each other on who had worn the more expensive dress. A complete waste of time and alcohol.
But Charlie took it all in like a kid on Christmas morning. When we broke through the trees into the lantern-lit clearing, I heard her gasp, felt her footsteps stall. Her eyes grew round, and even though she tried to hide it, I could tell the sight in front of us only made her feel more out of place.
Something protective welled up inside me, something I hadn’t even known was there, and suddenly all I wanted to do was turn around and take her home. Out of instinct I scanned the crowd, cataloguing the faces into two groups. Us. And them.
Charlie took a few steps forward into the crowd and I followed, still scanning and counting. There was Sheridan huddled in the far corner with my father. Her face was scrunched, like she’d just eaten something sour, which probably meant she was still fussing at him for the deal he’d made. Good. Finally, Sheridan and I saw eye to eye on something.
Across the clearing from them, on the far side of a dance floor that had been constructed, stood Blaine and Gretchen Rossi. Both of them were the epitome of “pale and brooding” with their translucent skin and black formal wear. They were flanked by two men; their security detail, I assumed. I scanned their group for their son, Owen, but he was nowhere in sight. That made a nerve in my neck twitch. As usual with their close proximity, my wolf strained to break free, but I shoved it back and continued my watchful inspection. I needed to see who was here and where they stood. My wolf couldn’t handle any surprises.
Goose bumps rose on the back of my neck and I jerked around. Carter stood several feet behind us decked out in a dark suit complete with a forest-green tie. I liked the color contrast. Woods, earthy, animal. Nothing like them. His hair had been combed back in a classic gentleman’s style that I found myself admiring before I realized I was staring and turned away.
When I glanced back again, he raised his drink, eyes sparkling with something I didn’t recognize as his gaze swept the length of me. A shiver ran down my back at the way he studied me. Just like I’d done, he finally caught himself and blinked away whatever had been there a moment ago. Glass still raised, he used it to salute me before nodding toward Charlie.
I understood. He would shadow us until he was needed closer. He would watch her tonight like I’d asked. I nodded back in thanks.
Unaware of the exchange or her bodyguard, Charlie tugged on my elbow and leaned in. “I feel like biting someone,” she said with a frown as she looked around at the pale faces.
I snickered. Charlie wasn’t even a little bit scary or violent. If she felt like tearing something apart limb from limb, that’s you knew it was bad. “Join the club,” I muttered.
“You mean pack.”
The sarcastic bite in her words drew my attention back to Charlie. She reached out and selected a glass of the sparkling cider from one of the waiters passing by and knocked it back in one swig. I watched as her face registered surprise and then disappointment. She was apparently hoping for alcohol. She wouldn’t realize that would be a huge mistake in a gathering like this one.
“Okay. Let’s meet the in-laws,” she said.
I tried to ignore the punch of angry heat that term created in my gut. I led Charlie through the crowd, aiming loosely for where my father stood with Sheridan. We got stopped several times along the way, mostly because of Charlie. Sylvia was a glitter bomb of shimmer and smiles in her champagne-colored slip gown. Al hulked over us in a suit sans jacket. I suspected he couldn’t find one that would fit around his massive arms. We were probably lucky he’d found a shirt to button.
They waylaid us with polite questions and avid curiosity. Everyone wanted to meet the long-lost Vuk heir. I secured my smile firmly in place and did my duty with the introductions, trying not to gag on the small talk. Charlie answered everything they threw at her and for that, I was impressed. Maybe even proud. But now wasn’t the time to say so. Instead, I stuck close beside her, ready to rescue if needed. By the time we made it to Dad, Sheridan’s voice had risen and her expression was fiery as she faced him.
“You’re insane, William, if you think a truce will last. Blaine’s probably using tonight as a way to scope out our defenses. Pinpoint our weak spots. I can’t believe you’d blood seal this thing. And without putting it to the elders—”
“Myra wanted it this way, Sheridan,” Dad said, his tone unusually placating. Or was that exhaustion I heard. “It was her idea. And now … with her gone … All that matters is getting the new alpha in place.” He was surprisingly calm for the level of heat Sheridan had aimed at him. But I couldn’t think past his first statement. My mother had set this up? Really?
“We know who killed Myra. They’re standing right over there.” Sheridan gestured across the dance floor with a nod of her head.
“Blaine didn’t do this,” Dad said and the certainty in his words made me pause.
Charlie’s eyes widened as we stepped up next to them, but I kept silent. Did he really believe they were innocent? What did he know that we didn’t? And why had Mom hidden so much from me?
“Then who did it, William? Is there another vampire coven we’re at war with?” Sheridan demanded, too caught up in their discussion to notice us. “Because Myra, my best friend, had two holes in her neck when you found her. Last I checked, that was pretty indicative of a vamp.”
Uh-oh.