Chapter 12
Dorian
“I don’t know who you think you are, but I’ll have you know I’m not afraid to use this if you don’t get out of my way,” Elizabeth shouts, her eyes wild with anger as she glares up at Viktor, a butter knife gripped in her hand.
Viktor chuckles, unbothered by Elizabeth's threats. “If you really wanted to do some damage, you should probably have chosen the steak knife. At least that would draw blood. Please, hand it over.”
Viktor’s command is gentle but… ineffective. He glances over at me, eyebrows raised. Well, I guess we’ve just been introduced to another Aegis. Interesting.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Elizabeth snaps.
Henrietta snorts, and Edie gasps.
“Elizabeth, put the damn knife down,” she says, releasing my hand and stepping towards her sister. Her gaze climbs Viktor, her eyes widening at his size. I’m tall and built, but Viktor is a fucking giant.
“I’m so sorry about this, erm… Viktor,” she says, grasping Elizabeth’s wrists and gently removing the knife. “Elizabeth is very protective.”
“I can see that.” He grins, dropping his gaze, his cool grey eyes tracking over her face. “Nice to finally meet you, Edie.”
“Vik, give Elizabeth some space,” I command, my voice cooling at the appreciative look he gives Edie.
He nods, stepping back. “You’ve got it, boss.”
Elizabeth exhales sharply, eyes never leaving Viktor as he circles the table and drops into a chair. He tosses her a wink, taming a rebellious strand of blonde hair as he does so. She bares her teeth in response. Pussy cat? Hardly. She’s a tigress.
“Elizabeth, what the hell are you doing?” Edie asks, exasperated.
She bristles under Edie’s disapproval, her long hair swaying with the movement. “He wouldn’t let me pass. What was I supposed to do?”
“Well, don't threaten him with a butter knife, that’s for sure.” She lowers her voice. “We are guests in Dorian’s home. Have you lost your mind?”
Viktor waves away her concern. “No harm done.”
Elizabeth narrows her eyes at him. “There’s still time.”
Unbelievably, this raises a smirk from Logan, which promptly falls from his face when Henrietta twines her arm through his and says, “It really is so nice to see you again.”
“Nice?” he bites out.
“The testosterone in here is suffocating,” Elizabeth snaps, skewering each of us with a glare. “I half expect each of you to whip out a club and drag us off to your man-caves.”
“I’m not averse to a little domination,” Henrietta says, winking at Logan, who practically hisses at her.
Viktor chokes on his glass of water.
“Okay, that’s enough,” Edie says, gripping her sister’s hand and dragging her to the opposite end of the table as far away from Viktor as possible. Elizabeth mutters something inaudible, but finally drops into a chair.
“Well, now we’ve got that introduction out of the way, should we eat? This food looks utterly delicious, doesn’t it, Angel?” Henrietta says, looking longingly at the pan-seared scallops as Logan rounds the table and pulls out the seat opposite her.
Viktor snorts, eying Logan. “I like the nickname Angel. It suits you.”
“I thought so too,” Henrietta agrees.
I bite back a laugh as Logan scowls. Viktor shakes his head, shooting me a look of amused disbelief.
To my right, I can sense Elizabeth teetering on the edge of another outburst without even glancing her way.
What really seems to grate on her nerves is Viktor’s unshakable calm, but she’ll need more than sarcasm and threats of violence to get under his skin.
Compared to Logan and me, Viktor is practically unflappable.
So much so that he keeps his cravings under the same tight control and, unlike us, he never drinks blood straight from the source.
Instead, he relies on the chilled reserves stored in the cellar of Avant Garde, and before that, he only drank blood from animals.
“Dorian, I am so sorry about this,” Edie mutters under her breath.
“Don’t be. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this entertained.”
By the time we’ve finished the main course, emotions have settled to a somewhat manageable level.
Elizabeth is still as tense as she was when she entered my home, but at least she’s satiated her hunger and has refrained from attacking Viktor.
Still, if Viktor winks at her again, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to scoop out his eyes with her spoon.
Logan hasn’t taken his eyes off Henrietta all night. His clipped responses to her questions do absolutely nothing to put her off from flirting with him. She’s committed, I’ll give her that.
Relaxing back into my seat, I drape my arm around the back of Edie’s chair, my fingers trailing over the bare skin of her shoulder.
Tonight I have my urges on a tight leash, it took me consuming two litres of blood from our stores before their arrival, but at least Edie isn’t in any immediate danger, though I admit the steady throb of her heartbeat, and gentle thrum of her pulse is testing my control.
“Well, I suppose I’m going to have to be the one to point out the elephant in the room,” Elizabeth suddenly says as all eyes snap to her.
“If that’s supposed to be another insult, then it’s fallen flat.
I happen to like elephants,” Viktor says with a shrug.
“In fact, did you know they have incredible memories? They can recognise other elephants after years of being apart. Not to mention they can remember locations of water sources, migration routes and threats to their herd, behaving differently to avoid them.”
Elizabeth narrows her eyes at him. “That’s all very interesting, but that wasn’t what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” he asks her as the four of us ping-pong our attention between them.
“I’m talking about the fact that Satan over there left Henrietta a rather chilling note about her ex, and we’re here to find out what it meant.”
“Satan?” Henrietta exclaims. “That’s a little harsh. Logan might be a little brusque and likely a little devilish,” she adds with a shimmy. “But he’s definitely not the spawn of all evil. Right, Angel?”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Viktor says, eyeing Logan with amusement.
“I merely dealt with Henrietta’s problem,” Logan says, folding his arms across his chest.
“You did?” I ask, snapping my attention to Logan. “Care to enlighten us?”
Logan has earned his position as my second because he’s respected my rules all these years, but acting without my express permission is not something I’ll tolerate. We’ll have a conversation about that later.
“Henrietta’s ex turned up at her house the second night I was there,” Logan explains.
A flicker of fear passes over Henrietta’s face before she hides it behind feigned shock. I think her ex has been far more problematic than she’s led Edie to believe.
“He did?” she asks.
“He did. He was also drunk. I merely persuaded him to leave you alone. That’s it.”
“Persuaded him how?” Edie asks.
“We had a conversation—”
“Now that I find hard to believe,” Viktor mutters.
“We had a conversation,” Logan repeats, unruffled. “By the end of it, he understood the boundaries that I laid out before him, and the consequences if he were to break them. Then he left. Problem sorted.”
Elizabeth scoffs. “You threatened him, you mean?”
“If he felt threatened, that’s on him. I merely pointed out what would happen if he ever bothered Henrietta again.”
“Erm… thank you?” Henrietta says.
Elizabeth shakes her head. “That’s it? You trust his word.”
Henrietta puffs out her cheeks, slowly releasing the air. “He hasn’t given me any reason not to.”
“Yet,” Elizabeth says.
Logan turns to face her, his eyes narrowing. “My word is my vow.”
Elizabeth opens her mouth to respond, but the sharp sound of heels clicking over the marble floor interrupts her. I don’t need to look to know who’s just entered. My body tenses.
“Well, this is cosy. Sorry, I’m late.”
“Whoa, aren’t you just completely stunning?” Henrietta says, her mouth popping open as Sybil strides towards us clad in a soft leather dress that clings to her frame like a second skin.
Edie peers around me and lets out a soft gasp. “Who is that?”
“Edie, Hettie, Elizabeth, this is Sybil, my friend, business partner, and the star of Avant Garde. I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening,” I add as she leans down and greets me with a kiss to the cheek.
“Clearly,” she replies, brushing her hands over my shoulder, a show of possessiveness that is as unwelcome as it is irritating.
“Friend, huh?” Elizabeth scoffs, and I can’t help but note the way Edie stiffens beside me.
Flipping her long auburn hair over her shoulder, Sybil takes a seat then helps herself to a glass of wine. “Looks like I’m just in time for dessert. What are we having, lemon meringue?” she asks, eying Henrietta.
“Sybil,” I warn, knowing exactly where she’s going with this.
“Strawberry tart, perhaps,” she continues, glancing at Elizabeth, before sliding her gaze to Edie. “Or is it a bittersweet truffle?”
“None of the above,” I say, my tone hardening.
“That’s disappointing. I was looking forward to a sweet treat. I’m famished,” she says, tapping her long, manicured nails on the table. “So, what did I miss?”
“Elizabeth pulled a knife on me.” Viktor laughs, trying and failing to ease the tension in the room.
“Is that so? Interesting,” Sybil says, eyeing Elizabeth.
“Edie eventually calmed her down, and Logan explained he did not, in fact, murder Henrietta’s ex,” Viktor continues. “I think that about sums it up.”
Sybil laughs. “Ah, just another entertaining evening in the Crow stronghold. I’m sorry I missed it.”
“Stronghold?” Edie mutters.
“Once you’re invited in, there’s no escaping,” Sybil says offhandedly, dropping that little bombshell with a wicked smile.
“And what is that supposed to mean?” Elizabeth asks.
“Sybil, these are my guests.”
She looks at me over the rim of her glass, her eyes flicking to Edie beside me. “Apparently so, darling.”
“Darling? Am I missing something here?” Edie says, less of a question and more of an accusation.