Chapter 7 The Dragon #2
A little furrow appeared between his thick brows, like I was a puzzle to him.
Which puzzled me, because I was pretty sure I’d been perfectly clear about everything.
I didn’t know why I was invited here, or why Radven had locked me in here, or why these brothers were giving me any sort of special treatment.
I’d just wanted an interesting evening and, perhaps, a chance to dive into the buffet.
My stomach grumbled again at that last thought, but I ignored it.
The same way I ignored the tempting platter of fancy cheeses.
Somehow my hand found the glass of Scotch, though, and I took another sip before I could convince myself I was undermining my point.
If I was going to be starving and confused, then at least I was going to enjoy some expensive alcohol while I suffered.
Alastor hadn’t given up his intense study of me, but the furrow at the bridge of his nose was relaxing little by little until he looked less confused and more intimidating again.
“You aren’t what I expected,” he said finally.
“You had preconceived notions about the woman you were surprised to find in your…” I gestured at the room around me.
“Mancave? Secret lair?” When he didn’t immediately respond, I asked, “Or did you mean when you invited me to this party in the first place? Why was I even invited if you don’t know who I am?
Did I win some sort of weird sweepstakes I didn’t know about?
” Isaac’s theory that these guys chose random nobodies to hunt for sport was starting to look like a possibility, but I took another sip of Scotch to keep from settling on that thought for too long.
“It was my brothers who insisted on inviting you,” he said. “And frankly, I’m not convinced they didn’t get it wrong.” He took a drink from his glass, his eyes never leaving me.
“Get what wrong?”
He only shook his head dismissively, as if done with the matter.
I’m not sure whether it was sheer frustration or hanger from going too long without food, but I’d had enough.
“This is ridiculous,” I said, rising. “Why the hell won’t anyone tell me what’s going on around here?
Obviously I was invited here for a reason, and I’m getting tired of all these stupid non-answers.
If you need me, I’ll be—no, scratch that.
If you need me, don’t bother. You’ve had enough chances to tell me the truth and I’ve lost interest.” I started toward the stairs.
“Sit back down.” Alastor had risen from his chair, his hands in fists on the table, and his tone was as hard and rigid as a boulder.
Most of the time, I was the sort of girl who followed the rules and listened to directions.
And not going to lie, my first instinct was to do exactly what he said, to obey his order and return to my seat.
But not for the first time tonight I felt a wild recklessness rise inside me, and it kept my feet moving toward the door.
“Sit down,” he demanded more firmly, but I allowed momentum to keep pulling me forward.
I was nearly at the door of the room when I remembered that I was still quite possibly locked in from above, and my step faltered.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to face that humiliation, because at that same moment Octavian and Radven burst into the lair.
Octavian was in front. He looked from me to Alastor and then nodded. “Everything’s fine.”
“I could have told you that,” Alastor said, still standing behind the table. His voice remained hard, and I wondered if he was still pissed at me or if he just always sounded like that.
“We can’t ignore any potential threat.” That was Radven, who’d stepped around Octavian and was now looking at me with those intense green eyes. “There is too much at stake.”
My head was starting to spin, and having all three of these men here, staring at me like this, was wildly uncomfortable.
Not to mention the fact that my head was starting to buzz.
I wasn’t sure whether it was the alcohol, or that incessant shivery-ness, or my long-latent sexual urges going into overdrive, but it felt like I was vibrating from the inside out, like my skin was going to slough right off my body.
“I don’t think she can help us,” Alastor said.
“I’m certain of it,” Octavian replied, looking back at me.
“As am I,” added Radven.
“What, because she’s young and pretty?” Alastor scoffed. “The pair of you are too easily distracted by perky breasts and a pair of fine lips. Frolic all you want, but don’t delude yourselves into thinking this girl can do a blasted thing for us.”
“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?” I didn’t mean to scream, but I was confused, and hungry, and honestly, I was—justifiably, in my eyes—starting to get pissed.
Octavian and Radven gave each other one of those looks that spoke multitudes. If either one of them gave me another non-answer, then I was prepared to knee both of them in the crotch.
It was Octavian who stepped closer. His eyes were as warm as they’d been the first time we met, as beguiling as they’d been in the moments just before he gave me the best kiss of my life, but I wasn’t sure I trusted his charm this time.
“This is going to sound very strange,” he said in that deep rumble of his.
“This night has already been strange,” I countered, running my hands over my arms as if that might stop the strange shivering.
“It’s about to get stranger.” The warmth in his eyes had disappeared, replaced by that bleak emptiness I’d glimpsed briefly on the dance floor. “We’re cursed, Marigold. And you’re the only one who can help us.”