Page 38 of Born Chaos

“I think I may be able to change her mind,” Jay says with a coy and cunning smile.

“Don’t make me regret letting you stay,” Roman growls. “Put it back in your pants, whitey.”

Jay smacks Roman up the backside of his head. “I told you not to call me that.”

“Then don’t be such a horny Siberian,” he chides back.

It’s kind of comical watching them. They’re such polar opposites, physically, besides the color of their eyes. Jay is so pale, so ghostly in the most beautiful way, and Roman has pitch black hair and olive tanned skin. Even their clothes are contrasting; Roman in black, Jay in a white button up shirt and pale gray pants.

“Oh, I am so off the market, I’m practically a seed potato buried six feet deep at this point,” I say, playing into the situation. It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve felt like I could joke around. “But thanks for the flattery.”

“Any time,” he says with a wink. “I will gladly be your Romeo.”

“Anyway,” Roman says firmly, deliberately looking away from Jay. “Juliet, this is Brianna. She keeps this city organized and makes sure every section is covered.”

She looks young. Probably only twenty-four or so when she Resurrected. She has waist length red hair that falls in soft waves. Her green eyes are friendly and inviting. “It’s nice to actually meet you,” she says kindly.

“You too,” I say with a shake. “Does he ever get any better, or is he constantly hitting on anything that moves?”

“Oh, it doesn’t get any better,” she says with a laugh. Her smile lights up her eyes. “Did I hear you were living in New York before you Resurrected?”

And just like that, I’m diving into an hour-long conversation with Brianna, who lived in New York up until she Resurrected. Ivana joins us. Others come and go. And it just feels so… normal. For a minute, it’s easy to forget that I’m a vampire, that I’ve died more than once, that this city is a shelter for those who are more than human. It’s just an easy night, attending a party, meeting new people.

I haven’t felt this normal in such a long time. Maybe in ever.

I’m not a vampire. I’m not a doctor. I’m not the fiancée of a man who’s lost his mind.

I’m just a woman enjoying the company of some new people.

At one in the morning, the biggest cake I’ve ever seen is wheeled in on a cart. It is, of course, pitch black. The attendees all sing some song that sounds completely made up to me, a bizarre vampire version of Happy Birthday, except it’s Happy Resurrection Day that’s sung.

As the night moves on, I feel this little pang of… I don’t know. Jealousy, maybe. This. This is the kind of life I always wanted. The kind I was jealous of. Where it’s just easy, and people treat each other like human beings. Where it’s okay to tease and be sarcastic, but it’s not a constant defensive mechanism.

I feel like I fit in here. These are the misfits who found a family together, united by a common job, overseen by a man I never thought was capable of being genuine and caring for the wellbeing of others.

“How’s your nana?” I overhear him asking some young man who looks like he can’t be more than eighteen years old, though, really, he could be over one hundred.

“Not great,” he answers. “She’s about to hit her ninety-eighth birthday. Mom is expecting her to go any day now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Roman offers, laying a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Patricia is a good woman.”

The young man nods in agreement, his expression grim, contemplative.

“When are we going back to Atlantic City?” Roman says to another man, one who is far older than most of the others in the crowd. He must not have known he was a vampire. Why else would you choose to spend an immortal life as a sixty-something year old? “I still need to prove myself at the tables.”

“You can’t afford to go back to the city with me,” the man jeers. He has frosting stuck in his beard. “You lost your shorts last time.”

“I know,” Roman chuckles. “Which is why I need to go back and redeem myself.”

“I’m going back in April,” the man says, arching a brow.

“I’ll be there,” Roman says as he walks across the room, greeting more of his employees.

Not just employees.

His friends.

Elena’s circle is small. Mason’s circle is small. Sigrid has all of her charges she cares about. Sebastian doesn’t seem to like anyone, not really, so there isn’t even a line, much less a circle.

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