That shit changes now.
We return to Hearts and reclaim our booth in the VIP lounge. It’s bright and early, which means it’s after hours, all the patrons and employees gone...which means it’s also self-serve.
“What’s this I hear about Punch Frost in the Face?” River asks.
“Hit and forgive has always been a way of life for us,” Cole explains. “But we turned Frosty down. We forgave him for his stupidity a long time ago, and he didn’t even have to ask.”
River glares at me.
“You got a problem?” I ask.
He runs his tongue over his teeth, but remains quiet.
Whatever. I turn to Gavin. “Jaclyn is a good girl. So why haven’t you committed to her yet?” When he—a single guy—put his arm around Camilla, when he danced with her, I’d wanted to get in his grille and rage. A reaction I still can’t explain. I’m not into her in a romantic way.
But here’s the shocker. I think I’m starting to like her in other ways. The way she fights. Her wit. Her determination. The way she charges forward, never trying to sidestep a difficult issue or pretend it doesn’t exist. The sadness she always carries and can’t hide—it makes a guy want to do whatever proves necessary just to make her smile.
Hell, maybe I’ve even gotten a little possessive of her, seeing her as my own personal shadow.
“Dude,” Gavin says. “Are we gossiping like junior high girls now?”
“Yes,” Bronx says.
“Too bad. Me and Jaclyn, we aren’t up for conversation.”
Justin punches him in the shoulder.
Gavin frowns at him. “What the hell was that for?”
“Anytime my sister’s name is mentioned, I get the urge to hurt you.”
Gavin rolls his eyes. “Fine. You want the deets, you get the deets. She’s pretending she isn’t interested in me right now.”
“Maybe she isn’t interested,” Justin quips. “Ever think about that?”
“You’ve seen my face, right?” Gavin proudly pats his own cheeks. “Everyone’s interested. Including you guys. Don’t try to deny it. Anyway. She’ll commit to me if and when I decide I’m ready to settle down.”
“Dude,” I say, mimicking him, “I hope some guy comes along, sweeps her off her feet, and she leaves you in the dust.”
A muscle jumps beneath his eye, but his tone is casual as he says, “You actually want her to suffer? Cruel, Frosty. Cruel. By the way, I’ve changed my mind about punch therapy.” He leans over the table to jab his fist into my mouth.
The impact hurts like hell and sends my head whipping to the side. I smile at him, knowing there’s blood on my teeth.
“What about you?” I nudge Cole before wiping my mouth. “You and Ali engaged yet?”
“Not officially. I’m still trying to plan the proposal.”
“Something to melt her panties off, I’m guessing.”
“I suggest a banner in the sky that reads Slay the Undead with Me Forever,” River says.
Cole flips him off. “Even without the ring, she’s mine. I’m smart enough to take myself out of the game before the other team steals my balls and goes home.”
Gavin draws back his fist. “You wanting a little sesh with the doctor, too?”
“Bring it,” Cole says with relish.
“Um, sh-should I come back later?” a small female voice asks. “Miss Ankh called and asked me to take care of you guys while you’re here, but I can go. Do you want me to go?”
A waitress after hours. Sweet.
“Are we restricted to drinks or can you work a little magic in the kitchen?” River asks.
“M-magic,” she stammers.
“Then we want you to stay.”
We place our orders and she rushes off.
Since hitting puberty, I’ve noticed that slayers always get one of two reactions from the opposite sex. We scare them, or we turn them on. I scared Kat for years. That’s why she turned me down again and again before finally saying yes. And even after we were together, when she trusted me with her life, she still had trouble accepting who and what I was.
Girls like Ali and Camilla are rare. They see us for what we are—violent when the situation calls for it, willing to cross any line to do what needs doing—and yet they stand by our sides anyway. Hell, they help us cross those lines.
My teeth gnash when I realize I’ve lumped Camilla into the same category as Ali. It’s Love and Jaclyn who are like Ali, not Camilla.
I like her better now, yes, but I still don’t trust her.
“What’s the deal with your sister?” I ask River, and hate myself for going there. Do I back away from the subject? Hell, no.
He raises his chin the way Camilla raises hers, and for the first time, I notice how closely they resemble each other. Same pale hair with dark brows. Same golden eyes. Same flawless bronzed skin decorated with a multitude of black-and-white tattoos. Only, he doesn’t make the fly of my jeans strain, so I can kind of tolerate him.
“I don’t have a sister, remember?”