I decide to just be blunt about it, since skating around the topic has left me in the cold with him. “Because we were in a unique position that led to sex, and you’ve mostly avoided me since then. Now you’re sitting on a mushroom and watching other people have sex right next to me.”
His eyes flick to my lips and back up to my gaze, as he releases a frustrated sound. “It’s rather complicated to explain why I shouldn’t have taken advantage of that situation, but you’ll understand eventually. I’m sure,” he says a little quieter. “Here,” he adds, pulling a box out of the inside of his coat.
He hands it to me, and I glance down, running my hand over the long, narrow, soft velvet casing, before taking it from him.
I expect to find a necklace, given the box shape, but instead, I find a small, beautiful, silver knife with a shimmering marble handle of some sort.
I expect it to be heavy, but instead, it’s perfectly light, and so easily balanced. I’ve never seen anything at all like it before, or touched anything so deceptive to the eye with expectations and reality.
“It’s a gift from a Van Helsing for your birthday,” he says, leaning over to adjust my grip.
His hand closes over mine, showing me the proper hold and grip, and his fingers gently linger on my skin as he moves in closer.
“Use it wisely. For exactly one hit, you have the power of a Van Helsing. After that, it’s just any other rusty knife with a very attractive hilt.”
My eyes flick over to his, and I find him a hell of a lot closer. So close I can feel the tickle of his warm breath as it softly bathes my lips.
“Thank you,” I say lamely, causing his smile to tug up at one corner of his mouth.
He clears his throat and looks away before adding, “Emit can’t be here tonight because of some beta issues he’s still dealing with. But he has agreed to start training you, the way Damien stated you requested. Instead of me…you know…the Van Helsing who would be an excellent trainer.”
I’d already moved on from the possibility of Emit training me, since he seems to have zero interest in being friends.
“Actually, I think I’m going to stick to what I know. Maybe I’ve been lured into a false sense of security this past week, but I feel safe enough. Besides, I’m finally opening the store to the public and still have to hire a new delivery person. There won’t be much free time on my hands.”
“No more personal deliveries, little gypsy?” he asks, sounding almost disappointed.
“Margie, I’m sure, will miss seeing me at the front door,” I state with a smartass smile that has his lips restraining one of his own.
“Touché,” he relents just as the pink satin decorations start waving in the wind, almost in a synchronized dance.
Little dots glow and dart around, and I swear I see fairy wings. Fairies aren’t real. I’ve already asked Damien. Did he lie to me?
“How is he doing this?”
“It’s not real,” Vance explains. “His more complex illusions can also be felt, but it’s very exhausting for him, since he no longer feeds.”
It’s like a seductive backdrop for a dream fairyland. Even the fountains have sparkly bits of pink and blue water.
More and more people seem to be changing into robes and masks, and Vance seems to be a lot closer to me on the mushroom seats.
“This is probably a stupid question, but how does he feed?”
“By taking as much pleasure from sex as he possibly can without leaving his partner a corpse,” he chirps, grabbing a drink from a passing tray and handing it to me. “Though parties like this temporarily fuel him so long as sex is in the air.”
My gaze flicks around, and I finally find Damien standing and talking with a group of people who are all laughing at whatever he’s said.
Usually, I’ve noticed, Damien sort of gets overlooked in the room, despite the blinding beauty. But right now, with that subtle glow to his skin, more and more women—and quite a few men—are swooning as he speaks.
I’m not really sure why a tinge of jealousy shoots through me. Maybe it’s because our friendship hinges on me being the only person to tolerate him for long periods of time.
“The longer his heart beats, the more charming people find him,” Vance says when he sees me watching. “He somehow managed to forget how much he loves being adored by everyone in the room.”
“I guess that was his life before the curse,” I state, smiling a little when he grins over at me and winks.
He promptly returns his attention to all the people who’ve gathered around him, hoping he’ll spare them a simple glance.
“This is mild in comparison to how it once was. Give him a few years of a beating heart, and everyone will think they’re in love with him. That’s how it was even before he was immortal with powers of seduction and persuasion.”
Now I feel even worse for Damien, because when this party is over and cleaned up, they’ll all forget about him, and he’ll be alone again.
“He stopped throwing parties because he got tired of no one remembering he was the life of those parties,” Vance goes on, sighing heavily. “Then he stopped feeding, since he only felt tortured and never much stronger after the fact.”
One woman runs her hand up his arm, and I’m not sure why I smile when Damien casually removes it, putting it on a man who seems to appreciate her more.
Those two start kissing, while Damien continues to charm the circle around him.
“It seems he’s forgotten this party is supposed to be about you. Give me a minute,” Vance says, about to stand.
I grab his hand, and his eyes move to the contact. Quickly I withdraw, since I feel him tense, and I shake my head. “Give him this if he’s enjoying it.”
“He can enjoy it any time. Your birthdays are numbered,” he states flatly.
“Well, as morbid as that is, I’d still like for him to enjoy this. Besides, I never have parties, so this is a first. I’m not really sure what to do.”
“You never have parties?” Vance muses.
“Not since my thirteenth birthday,” I answer, holding back the gory details of that day. “Do you have parties for every birthday?”
He makes some derisive noise before he laughs. That laugh quickly turns into a hearty groan, as his body still shakes with the suppressed, almost sad laughter. He pinches the bridge of his nose, while shaking his head.
“Certainly not,” he finally answers, still partially laughing.
It’s all such a unique, weird reaction that I just watch with an amused grin.
“Go enjoy your party,” he finally says, smiling over at me. “While you’re young.”
I dart a dubious glance around at several shameless, writhing piles of bodies. I don’t even know how to attempt to socialize in a setting like this.
“No one ever talks to me at parties,” I observe, making no move to get up and enjoy my party.
“Because you continue to hang out with alphas. First at Arion’s party, and now here at Damien’s,” he tells me.
“But I could be painting myself a target,” I decide to point out. “Since it sounds like everyone else wants to be alpha.”
“You’ve spent too much time listening to Emit’s worrisome omegas. Careful with them. If they start feeling like they’re safer with you, they’ll move right into your home.”
“Har,” I say to his very dry humor.
“I’m serious,” he says as he leans over onto the plusher set of mushrooms, lying down and spreading out like he’s getting more comfortable.
My gaze flicks to Damien, and I almost fan myself. The thicker the seductive air in here gets, the more…tempting he becomes. It’s messing with my head.
“You were about to light a candle on a pie, and you sit here with the same expression you had then, even though this is certainly a party a twenty-six-year-old single woman of this era should enjoy,” Vance says from behind me, as I fail to tear my gaze away from the Morpheous in his element.
“All I can think is how much I wish Anna could be here to see all of this,” I tell him.
When laughter rumbles out of him, I turn and give him a sad smile.
“She really would,” I go on. “It feels wasted on me because I don’t want to just join in with some random people. I like to know who’s touching me, and I…”