“I would love to be in the center of the painting,” Millicent agreed. “Wearing lingerie, I assume? I brought a bag of them, Master, along with the makeup kit and my old costumes from when I worked in a burlesque bar.”
She waited expectantly, but he could only latch on to one piece of information. “My mother’s spending the night with Uncle Morris and Aunt Rita?”
“Yes. Something about your father on a business trip and you not visiting her because of work. He will return tomorrow and pick her up.”
He inwardly groaned but outwardly smiled. “Then don’t return until she leaves. I’ll make things up with Uncle Morris.”
He refrained from mentioning that she might end up dead if his father had any say about it—and that was just the kind of man Isaiah Wilder was, so it was best to avoid that scenario. At the perseverant peering, he finally spun to face the winged man, his expression never wavering.
“Well? Who was that other woman, then?”
He mulled it over until a memory stirred. Casually, he strode to the table where he had put down his phone and was blasted with a few business emails before one text popped up.
I know you are at your studio on Fridays, and I’m a man who keeps my promise. I’m sending a cousin over as we agreed. Take care of her and make a deal with her. Nothing too severe.
Well, damn it.
“A shifter,” he replied, facing the crowd that was now watching in worry. “Promised by a friend who supports my craft.”
At that, they relaxed.
“So, two shifters for the painting, then?”
“Just one will do.” A glance at Millicent had her beaming. “But let me check on the other one and see if I can get her to watch. After all, it’s not every day that one gets to witness the masterpiece of beautiful Fae and a lovely panther shifter posing for creativity. Millicent?”
“Yes?”
“Please make sure our guests are comfortable. You, too.” A pause. “And minimize the…fucking. I don’t want my carpets stained, and you can achieve the same flushed look with makeup. I will be back shortly.”
He was off before they could ask questions, the amused chortle signaling that his reprimand was lost. He didn’t care, understanding some folks were just built differently and did various things to set the mood. Vampires were all about cool control and appearances, while shifters were all about raw power and physicality. Fae, it seemed, were all about having fun, having sex, and tricking others, which wasn’t any different from the manipulation he had learned over the years.
Billy’s cousin. Billy Bennett had sent his cousin instead of forgetting about the promise made over one awkward encounter—particularly when Billy had discovered Edmund’s secret hobby and had also promised it would remain so. So far, that end of the bargain was untouched. But to send a relative….
“Either you are stupid, Mr. Bennett, or you just want to spy on my activities again,” he muttered, torn between annoyance and amusement. Outside, the world was quiet save for a few passing cars, but it didn’t take him long to find the path he had once memorized. “And you are not the only one good at spying.”
Perhaps Edmund was even better at it, considering he hadn’t been caught the two times he had trailed after Billy until he reached the Bennett Clan’s forest territory, one surrounded by an invisible dome and guarded at all turns. It had been necessary to ensure Isabella was in safe hands. He wasn’t a deluded idiot who let himself be duped—and yes, maybe he could use an arsenal in case he found valuable information he could use to manipulate the man later.
The city's layout became his playground as he used shortcuts to get there faster. Too late, he spotted a familiar man he shouldn’t see around outside of formal events and felt his back going up. The man glimpsed him at the same time, pausing mid-drag. The deer on the man’s hand slumped to the ground, throat ripped open and spilling blood everywhere.
“Edmund. What are you doing here?”
Gian Mortimer studied him in fascination and suspicion. He supposed he was at fault in that for announcing how he never frolicked in the wilds and preferred to be at work and in fancy establishments. Still, Edmund met the look with a casual stance.
“I could ask the same thing about you, but I think the answer is pretty obvious. I didn’t realize you were into natural means, Gian, when you were so aggressive about the need for our kind to become more evolved and delve into the world of blood banks and vampire-exclusive establishments.”
He tilted his head and tried not to breathe in the smell. Awareness of its floral tones had him fisting a hand, so used to the rustic, clinical scent that the Wilders tried to strictly partake in instead. But the scent drew him in, a memory of what their clan had been before they had learned the art of control. It helped him block the rest…and Gian was still looking at him.
“Let’s just call it a rare indulgence. I suppose this stroll into nature is a rare indulgence, too?”
Bennett.Belatedly, it sank in that he was close to the territory but not close enough. So was Gian.
“You can call it that,” he shot back. “Are you heading back after this?”
“Not really. A hunt can’t be called off that easily, Edmund, not when the night is ripe for the picking. Are you going to stop me from having that?”
His hair stood on end. His instinct snapped a warning that they weren’t alone and their reaction depended on his answer. In that instant, Edmund understood that despite what Billy had done, he couldn’t lead a predator into a man’s home just like that.
“Of course not.” He schooled his expression. He pasted on his most charming smile and nodded in placid agreement. “A man has to hunt and has to do it in his private time. Otherwise, it won’t be so enjoyable, don’t you think?”