Page 64 of Born Reckless
I glance back at the doors, but Roman is gone. The relief that spreads through me is immediate.
“As do you,” I say with a raised eyebrow. Okay,I’mnot a goddess. That’s a thousand percent Sigrid. She’s wearing this slightly off-white dress that is beaded in the most beautiful way. It hugs her frame and leaves her looking like dessert to drool over. Wrapped around her and draped over the crooks of her elbows is a white fur stole. Golden earrings hang from her ears, and golden leaves are interlaced into her fantastic updo. “I mean… look at you.”
Sigrid gives another one of those singular laughs, face upturned to the ceiling. “You flatter me. But it is nice to see you again. I have missed you.”
“So have I,” I say, realizing that it’s true. Something in me aches for her, and I think that this is maybe how people feel about their families. “Malcolm. You look dashing.”
He walks up behind Sigrid, looking every bit like he belongs at this party. “Thank you. It’s good to see you again, Juliet.”
I simply bob my head and an old clock in the corner starts chiming, announcing the nine o’clock hour.
“Excuse me, my dear,” Sigrid says as she touches my arm gently. “I have to go greet the guests. I will find you later. Enjoy the party.”
I smile and nod, watching as she heads for the doors, Malcolm following after her.
They’re a team. Maybe they don’t all like each other very much. But as I watch the five Night Council members line up, they just look so natural. Like they’ve all been doing this for a long time. And like they were born to lead.
Was I born to do anything?
Instead of sinking into that sad thought, I turn and make my way through the growing crowd to find something to eat.
Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire. Even the food is stupidly wonderful.
I take a plate, and start a slow route around the ballroom, watching the crowd.
If this party is a representation of the supernatural population of the city, it’s about two-thirds vampires, one-third gifted. I wonder if the gifted get nervous at events like this. If the vampires decided they were hungry, I wonder how many of them could stop them. I’m sure some of them have physical capabilities, but for the most part, I’d wager on the vampires.
How? How does this large of a population go undetected, not just from these Royals everyone keeps talking about, but from the entire world? There are probably four hundred people here. And yes, I’ve heard that Chicago is a mecca for vampires, but this is still only one city. There’s still the great, big world out there.
How many vampires are hiding out there? There must be hundreds of thousands.
This vampire king must be powerful. Way, way more powerful than I’ve ever given him credit for. If he’s kept a population this large a secret for thousands of years? Just… how?
I shake the thought off and watch as the crowd find their places. Some go straight for the food. Others right to the bar, which is mostly serving blood tonight. Others go right for the dance floor. In most ways, all of these people seem like any other people. Except for the fact that they crave blood and have this extreme aversion to the sun. Oh, and their supernatural strength and speed. And the immortality part.
I shake my head and ditch my plate.
“What you’re doing is wrong, you know.”
I freeze in my tracks as a voice calls out. I turn and look back at a man seated at a table by himself. He’s ordinary. Someone I wouldn’t remember if I saw him passing by.
“Do you understand the weight on Mason Godfrey’s shoulders?” he asks. His eyes are cold. His lips are thin and judgmental. “Do you fully comprehend the wealth in his company? That the board expects that company to stay in the family? Do you realize that if he does not produce an heir, it puts his entire legacy, company, and financial stability at risk?”
I want to say something. I want to flip him off and move on.
But that guilt that has been building inside my stomach for weeks now gets twice as heavy.
“Do you understand that feelings and physical attraction are not enough?” he asks. “Those two things do not make a long-term relationship. A shared future, shared goals are fundamental. Do you evenknowMason Godfrey? Or is he simply the golden-hearted savior who made you a false, temporary princess?”
I swallow, but my throat is too thick.
You’re nothing. You’re no one.
You’re no princess.
“Think of others,” he says coolly. “Think of Mason.”
Bile pushes its way up. I wish I hadn’t eaten all that rich food.