Chapter 4 #2
I studied him for a long moment. “One day I’m going to stab you in the kidney, and you’ll never see it coming.”
His low, wicked chuckle rolled down my spine. “Nice to see you haven’t changed a bit.”
Now that the Lords were seated, the other guests entered the ballroom, Simone directing people to their seats with her trademark efficiency.
“Why are you doing this?” I hissed under my breath.
“Because our local Floromancer has chosen to ignore every request for a meeting I’d sent her over the last few months.”
“So you throw a ball in my honor without telling me? What kind of fucked up shit is that?”
“Evie,” Moira said quietly.
“The kind of fucked up that gets your attention,” Caelan said. He made a gesture that had two servers hurrying over. “Red, please. Evie?”
“Red as well.”
They refilled mine and filled a different glass for Caelan, a deep royal blue goblet.
“Fancy,” I said, unable to keep the shitty note from my voice.
He laughed under his breath. “You’re so easy to antagonize, Evangeline.”
“Stop calling me that.” One visit with my mother, and Caelan assumed he knew everything about me.
“It’s a beautiful name. Why don’t you want to use it?”
“Because it’s none of your business.” I flicked a hand at the rest of his adoring audience. “Can we get on with this so I can get out of here?”
“I’m wounded you find my presence so appalling. Many women consider me handsome and alluring. They fall all over themselves—”
“Please stop,” I begged.
“And crawl into my bed,” he continued. “Short women, tall women, pale women, tanned women…”
Soren snorted with disgust.
Caelan shot him a look tinged with violence. “And yet, one simple Floromancer continues to elude me.”
“I am not a quest, you asshat.”
“Aren’t you?”
I facepalmed myself. “Caelan, can you please use your alluring handsomeness to get this show on the road?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “We still have five minutes before the gala is set to begin. Five more minutes for you to drink your fill of me.”
“For the gods’ sake,” I muttered. “If you want adoration, get it from your harem.”
“He’s bullshitting you, Evie,” Soren said from a few seats down. “The old bastard hasn’t wet his whistle with a woman in months.”
Caelan’s eyes flicked to Soren, the gold flecks in his irises glowing. “Soren,” he rumbled.
“Please, Caelan, I can see you’re besotted with the poor girl and have been since the second you met her. Can we all stop pretending?” Soren leaned back in his chair with a huff.
Caelan’s brow furrowed, a thoughtful look in his eyes as he studied the other Lord.
I clicked my tongue. “No harem, then? How sad for you.”
“Evie could have a harem if she wanted one,” Moira said helpfully.
Soren burst out laughing.
“Moira. A harem would be about as appealing as public speaking. No thank you.” I squirmed in my seat and discreetly checked my phone. Two minutes until whatever this was began.
“Just saying. You could, you know. All those men coming into your shop don’t give a damn about flowers. They’ve just heard about the pretty dark-haired witch who owns the place.”
Caelan’s chest rumbled.
Moira grinned. “You might have your alluring handsomeness, Lord, but most of your appeal comes from the power you hold over this town. Evie’s comes because she’s drop dead gorgeous, talented, and puts up with zero bullshit.
” She winked at Caelan. “As evidenced by the pretty, pretty wild garden right outside these windows.”
“That Jacaranda is impressive as hell,” Soren murmured.
“Right?” Moira said. “Can you imagine how much she’ll save on her own wedding flowers once she finally picks the lucky man who gets to walk her down the aisle?”
Caelan abruptly rose and strode over to the podium set up with a mic and a small glass of water.
Soren shook his head. “Antagonizing him isn’t wise,” he said softly.
“Oh, but it’s so much fun,” Moira responded.
“This is already awful enough,” I whispered. “Can you stop picking at him? I don’t want him to drag this thing on longer than necessary.”
Soren chuckled.
“And why are you here, Lord?” I demanded. “We both know you don’t give a shit about flowers.”
Soren brushed an imaginary speck from his lapel. “I have my reasons.”
“None of them to do with flowers,” I muttered.
His gaze flicked to Moira before returning to me. “I go where I’m invited. Doing so allows me to take the pulse of a town.”
“You were just here a few months ago,” Moira said archly.
Their eyes held. “Much can change in a few months.”
I rolled my eyes and returned my attention to Caelan.
He cut a powerful figure in his charcoal gray suit and slate blue tie.
But I felt a sense of fierce satisfaction when I noticed he wasn’t wearing a boutonniere.
The last time he’d worn one, I’d turned it into ash on the table and sent him one I’d made.
Afterward, I realized I’d gone a bit crazy and acted possessive, which in hindsight wasn’t a good idea. But at the time, I couldn’t help myself.
I toed the bag at my feet and wondered if I should give him the one I’d brought tonight.
Caelan’s voice rumbled through the room as he spoke. All side conversations ceased as everyone focused on the Shifter Lord.
But as he spoke, anger grew inside me like a cancer. He had done this to get me here and disguised it as a charitable event. Any donations given during the night would be sent to a local hospital and used to sponsor events for sick children.
If I punched him in the kidney, it would have to be private because I didn’t want the world to think I hated sick kids.
Just Caelan’s manipulation tactics.
And I always fell for the damn things.
After he sang my praises for a little while and spoke about medical research, Caelan wished everyone a good night and made sure they knew who to give their checks to before retaking his seat.
“You must be feeling quite smug,” I whispered.
“The bastard is always smug,” Soren said.
Servers peeled from the walls and rushed the tables. Drinks were refilled and first course salads were served.
“Will you activate the arrangements?” Caelan asked.
I reached down and pulled a small carton out. “This is for you.”
Caelan’s lips parted as he took the carton and opened the top, revealing a boutonniere with deep burgundy ribbons and a creamy dahlia in the middle. Pretty, but nothing spectacular until you saw what was around those dahlias.
“Evie,” he murmured, reaching out to stroke one of the dozen traps of the flytrap plant I’d bordered the dahlia with.
That trap reached out quick as a snake and latched onto Caelan’s finger.
The Shifter Lord hissed in pain before a huff of laughter escaped him. “Is this one poisonous?”
“Paralyzing you in front of the community seemed like a bad idea,” I said sweetly. “Plus I didn’t have time to add the poison.”
Moira muttered a prayer under her breath. Soren’s eyes widened when several of the other traps began to sway in search of blood.
“I so love your violent gifts, Evangeline.” Caelan wiped the beaded drop of blood from his fingertip onto his napkin and carefully fastened the boutonniere to his lapel.
“Are you sure you want to wear that?” Soren asked.
“Of course, I do. This event is for Evie, and this is but a small display of her wild power.”
“Maybe don’t touch it again,” Soren said, his brow furrowed as he leaned over to study the carnivorous boutonniere.
“I plan to introduce this one to Seymour when the party is over,” Caelan said. “How long will this one last?”
My heart warmed. Maybe I should stop giving Caelan things.
All he was doing was endearing himself to me every time I tried to get a negative reaction from him.
“The flytrap can be gently extricated from the boutonniere and planted, but the others will only last for a few more days. There’s no preservation spell included. ”
“Good to know.” A strange smile curved his lips. “Is it programmed to bite only me?”
“Anyone in the Keep is in danger if they come too close.”
His laugh made something uncurl deep inside, and I realized I’d rarely managed to piss him off. The automaton stunt did it, but he wasn’t as angry as I expected. Then he’d kept the garden and Seymour and somehow formed a bond with the bloodthirsty little flytrap.
He kept surprising me. Surprises were like finding a raisin in an oatmeal cookie when you could have sworn it was supposed to be chocolate.
“Another little demon then,” he said, scratching the underside of one of the traps and snatching his finger out of the way before the plant could bite him.
The bastard laughed again.
Shit. I was in trouble.
I whispered the activation words for the table’s centerpieces and picked my wine glass up. Nudging Moira, I motioned for her to do the same. A thorned vine whipped out and knocked Caelan’s glass over.
The Lord swore and jumped from his seat before any wine could spill on his suit.
But the vine wasn’t done. His salad plate crashed to the floor a second later, earning me an annoyed look.
“I don’t like vegetables anyway,” he said mildly as servants rushed over to clean up the mess.
I apologized to them because I’d forgotten someone else would have to clean the mess up and deactivated that particular spell. Once his chair was clean, Caelan sat back down. “Are you twelve?” he asked mildly.
I wiggled my finger. One of the vines whipped out and popped him on the side of the thumb. Caelan hissed.
“Goddammit, Evie.”
Soren cackled.
The other Shifter Lord had never done anything to me, but they all wanted me to either marry one of them or be bound to a contract to diminish my power, so I sent the other centerpiece thumping closer to him. It sent up several thorned vines and waved them menacingly but didn’t attack.
Soren swore and shoved his chair back.
At the other tables, the centerpieces were busy putting on a light and blooming show, showers of food and environment safe glitter going off repeatedly like tiny bombs. All we could hear were the oohs and ahs of the other guests.