“What troubles you, mutt? Flea prevention not up to par?”
“Don’t get testy, bat boy. It’s not my fault you’ve run out of prom queens to devirginize.”
“Wit is not your forte, dog. Stick to what you know—drooling, scratching, and licking body parts typically unreachable.”
“Damn, you are pissed. Did one of the angry villagers leave a pitchfork rammed up your ass, Drac?”
Okay, this is fun. The breeze from the lake pushed a loose curl against my chin. I unclipped my hair to straighten it. My long tresses fell around me in a big, tangled mess. I used my fingers to comb through the strands. As I twisted it back into place, I noticed silence had fallen along the porch.
Aric and Misha watched me with deep fascination. I turned around, expecting Ana Clara to be pole dancing against one of the pillars behind me. She wasn’t. She stood near the steps, adjusting the straps on her four-inch shoes and appearing bored. I turned back slowly. After years of having men ignore me or step away in fear, how the hell had I caught the interest of two very sexy males…with fangs and sharp claws?
I adjusted my position in the chair nervously, grateful when the waiter and Ana Clara appeared with plates of roasted boar piled high over garlic potatoes and vegetables.
Aric sniffed his food. “Hmm. Smells great.” He yanked Misha’s plate away and replaced it with his.
Misha quirked a brow. Ana Clara appeared and stole the plate away before Misha could take a bite. “Excuse me, Master, but I’d seasoned it more for the mongrel’s taste.” She handed it to Hank over the railing; he quickly dumped the plate and the entire contents in the trash. Arsenic, she mouthed before disappearing to get Misha more food.
I stopped with a forkful of food inches from my mouth. Aric winked. “It’s okay, Celia. Yours is fine.”
I pushed my plate away, just to be cautious. Misha scowled, blaming my sudden lack of appetite on Aric, of course. ’Cause heaven forbid he’d point his finger at “Fifi,” his arsenic-toting Catholic schoolgirl. “Celia wouldn’t have hesitated had you not interrupted our lovely dinner.”
Aric peered through the family room window. “Huh. It would have been lovelier in the house. Oh…but then I guess that’s not possible, since she didn’t invite your unholy carcass in.” He took a bite of his food. “Good. Very good. Still, not as delicious as your meatballs and sauce, Celia.”
I knew what Aric was trying to pull. And yet my tigress went into “aw, shucks” mode.
Misha seethed before relaxing into his chair. His composed demeanor worried me more than his anger. “Ah, the mutt knows how to charm the ladies.” He chuckled as he regarded me. “Yet I am not surprised. Surely after the multitude of females he’s bedded in his young life, he’s learned many a way to entice those he wishes to conquer.”
Multitude?
Misha’s frostbite stare shifted to Aric. “And they all have been of your race—purebloods, in fact. What a pity your Elders forbid you from courting a non-were.”
“At least none of them have been young enough to be my great-great-great-great-granddaughter, you creepy bastard.”
All humor dissolved from Aric’s face as he took in the hurt causing me to recoil like a wilted rose. A frigid cold swept throughout my body, freezing my muscles against my bones. Misha had accused Aric of “bedding” a lot of females. And Aric hadn’t denied it. Knowing the mass of naked flesh he’d touched caused my insecurities to dig a hole into my sternum until my heart threatened to pull apart like boiled meat. Worse yet, the females he’d slept with all shared common traits. They had all been of his kind. They had all been of pure blood. And none had been anything like me.
Had that been the true reason he’d failed to call me?
Aric dropped his fork with a loud clang against the table. He swung his legs onto the floor, preparing, I believed, to pounce on Misha. So his soft voice and the gentle touch of his hands on mine threw me for a loop. “Listen to me, Celia. My kind is in the best position it’s been in for centuries. The purebloods are plentiful and continue to have large families. I shouldn’t be held under the same constraint.” He narrowed his eyes at Misha. “Despite what my Elders say.”
The corners of Misha’s mouth angled into a malicious smile. “To anger your Elders is to risk tremendous repercussions, mutt.”
“My problem. Not yours, parasite.”
A white limo sped into our development, screeching to a halt behind Aric’s Escalade. Petro’s driver rushed to open the door for him. Good Lord, Petro trembled so badly he needed help rising from the car.