“We met before I went to Paris,” I said.
“You wound me, Elisa,” Dane said with a grin, putting a hand over his heart. “We had dinner shortly before she left.”
The memory, or what there was of it, clicked into place. There’d been a dinner I didn’t much remember. I’d liked his accent and his sarcasm, and hadn’t given anything else much thought. I’d also been focused on Paris, and not especially interested in dating a vampire who looked my age but was decades older.
“How did you find Paris?” he asked.
“Halfway between X and Y.”
Connor grinned. Dane’s smile was a little more forced.
“It was lovely and complicated,” I said.
“Sounds like Chicago,” Dane said, then looked at Connor. “I understand the Pack’s leaving us soon. Heading back to Alaska, are you?”
“Some of us,” Connor said.
“Of course. Shame to leave now when things are getting interesting.”
“Interesting?” Connor asked.
“After years of peace, I mean. The fairies’ bursting into the peace talks. The violence in Europe.” He looked at me. “There are many videos of your heroism at the Eiffel Tower. You handled yourself well. It was impressive.”
The sudden flash of interest in his eyes, that deeper ring in his voice, didn’t win him the points he probably thought they would. I hadn’t been trying to play hero. I hadn’t been playing at all, and neither had the vampires who’d attacked.
“It was what needed to be done.”
Dane seemed surprised I hadn’t taken the bait, hadn’t been flattered by his approval. And Connor looked pleased by my answer.
As if looking for an exit, Dane waved at someone across the yard. “Well, I should make the rounds. Good seeing you again, Lis.”
He squeezed my hand, making me think I’d been downgraded from a kiss on the cheek, and walked away.
“I think I just got dumped.”
“Good riddance,” Petra said. “He seems like an ass.”
“I don’t think he’s an ass. He’s just... a vampire.”
Connor made a grumbling sound of agreement I wasn’t sure was flattering. “And what about that vampire?” he asked, gesturing with his glass toward Seri. She was standing on the lawn near the pool, a semicircle of supernaturals around her, watching as she posed like a model in an oldVoguead. One foot forward, hands on her slender hips, shoulders tilted back.
“Vain or insecure?” Connor asked.
“Neither,” I said with a smile. “She just really likes that dress.” For reasons that still eluded me.
“Maybe you should give Dane a shove in her direction,” Petra suggested.
“No, thank you. I’m not playing matchmaker,” I said. And I didn’t need to, since Dane walked to her and made a courtly bow before pressing his lips to the back of her hand, which put a glowing smile on her face.
“Solves that problem,” Connor murmured, and took a drink.
“Four years, and your jokes aren’t any better. You should have practiced in the interim.”
“My jokes are just fine. But I have to work with the material I’m given.”
I rolled my eyes, and Petra and Theo shared a look.
“What?” Connor asked, gaze narrowed.