Chapter 18 #3
“A shame. I imagine half the city would’ve liked the opportunity to meet you sooner.”
I say nothing, and evidently Santiago mistakes my silence for permission to come closer. His free hand begins to lift toward her arm, and I move before the thought has fully formed.
Stepping between them, I settle a possessive hand at her waist, narrowing my eyes on Santiago.
“Mine.”
The word leaves my mouth without conscious consideration, but the warning lands. He freezes, eyes flicking briefly to my hand before returning to my face.
“Of course,” he smiles. “My apologies.” He inclines his head toward Beatrix. “Pleasure meeting you.”
Then he’s gone.
Beatrix tips back the rest of her champagne, draining the flute before frowning down at the empty glass.
I turn toward the bar, and she falls into step beside me without either of us acknowledging the silent exchange.
We’re halfway across the ballroom when she abruptly stops.
“Is that…?”
I follow her line of sight.
Valentina Navarro is standing beside the bar, one elbow resting casually against the polished marble as she laughs at something the bartender’s said. Even from across the room, she’s difficult to miss.
“Valentina,” I confirm.
She’s well known within both human and vampire society alike, though for entirely different reasons than my own.
While my reputation was built in laboratories and lecture halls, hers was cultivated at nightclubs, charity galas, and tabloid covers.
For nearly a year, we appeared together at events much like this one, allowing the press to endlessly speculate over our romantic entanglement.
The arrangement served its purpose. Our respective publicists were pleased, and we remained friends long after our quiet ‘breakup’.
“She’s gorgeous,” Beatrix breathes.
“Yes,” I agree.
By conventional standards, Valentina is exceptionally attractive. Tall and elegant, with long dark hair, hazel eyes, and impeccable posture. She possesses the sort of effortless beauty photographers spend careers trying to capture.
I glance sideways at Beatrix, who’s still staring at Valentina. She seems… captivated.
“Would you like me to introduce you?” I ask.
“Definitely,” she says, already resuming her path toward the bar.
I fall into step beside her, Valentina turning as we approach. Her face lights up with recognition the moment she spots me.
“Eli!” she exclaims.
Before I can so much as offer a greeting, she’s wrapping one arm loosely around my shoulders in an embrace.
I stiffen.
“Oh, right,” she says with an apologetic wince, releasing me at once. “Still allergic to affection.”
“Something like that,” I grumble.
She smiles, apparently satisfied I’m no worse for the encounter, then shifts her attention to Beatrix.
“And who’s this?”
I don’t have a chance to answer before my little mortal steps forward confidently, extending a hand.
“Bex Hamilton. Elliott’s source.”
Valentina ignores the offered handshake entirely. “Oh, of course you are,” she gushes, sweeping her into the same effortless half-hug she attempted on me.
Unlike me, Beatrix returns it. She even laughs, seemingly delighted by the warm reception. Then Valentina draws back just enough to study her, a slow smile spreading across her face before she glances my way again.
“This one’s simply stunning, Eli.”
I dip my chin. “She is.”
The words leave my mouth without a second thought, and Beatrix’s eyes snap to mine, her lips parting ever so slightly. I hold her gaze, sensing something passing between us.
I’m not sure why she seems surprised. I merely answered the question truthfully.
“Do you need a drink?” Valentina interrupts.
“Definitely,” Beatrix replies, positively beaming.
Valentina hooks her by the arm, pulling her toward the counter while signaling the server.
I hang back to observe.
Physically, the two women couldn’t be more different.
Valentina is tall and poised, every movement polished through decades of public appearances.
Beatrix is nearly a foot shorter, all restless energy and effortless charm.
Yet they both navigate the room with the same easy confidence. When they smile, people smile back.
Social interaction has always required conscious effort on my part, but for them, it appears instinctive.
Even more interesting is the way Beatrix responds to Valentina. She regards her with open admiration, smiling at nearly everything she says. The fascination is… difficult to miss.
She’s spent weeks isolated in my company. Watching her with Valentina, it occurs to me that she may prefer the company of someone more like herself.
By the time they return from the bar with fresh drinks, the solution seems obvious.
“Join us for dinner?” I ask Valentina.
Both women blink, seemingly caught off guard.
“I’m not at your table,” Valentina laughs. “Though I’m sure they’ll rearrange things if tonight’s guest of honor asks nicely.”
I nod once, certain they will.
She turns to Beatrix, arching a dark brow. “If that’s alright with you?”
“Of course,” she replies enthusiastically, batting her lashes. “I’d love to get to know you better.”