Page 18 of Born Free

“We haven’t been introduced yet,” I say, cutting into their idiocy. “Dr. Juliet Doe, Roman’s better half.”

Chelsea’s eyes sober, meeting mine. And immediately following, they slide down to my left hand. “Not so serious as to put a ring on it, though. Thank the dark for that.” A wicked, sultry smile curls on her lips as she looks up at Roman.

“It’s only a matter of time,” Roman says as he wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me in closer. “The woman is picky. In the end, a custom design was all that would cut it.”

“You like them high maintenance then?” Charles asks, a slight sneer in his tone.

“Whatever my woman wants, she gets,” Roman says, his tone low and serious as the grave. He looks down at me, raising a hand to cup the side of my face, and he dips to take a kiss. It’s slow but intense, hard and claiming.

The little noise in the back of Elena’s throat reminds me that this is the first time she’s seen this. The evidence that something has seriously evolved between Roman and me.

The noise rumbling out of Chelsea is something different. Annoyed, jealous, vindictive.

“Why don’t you introduce us to your House members?” Roman says as he straightens, tightening his grip on me in a message that’s impossible to miss: Chelsea isn’t going to gain one inch of space between us.

“Certainly,” Charles says, lifting his chin with pride. He snaps his fingers, and slowly, I see the five others disengage with whatever they were doing and drift our way. “Andres, Dr. Doe, I’d like to introduce you to the House of Allaway. This is Isabel Mote, Jamison Tillate, Bianca James, Benson Lind, and Lexington Dawes. Everyone, this is the long-lost brother of Orlando Badillo.”

“Amnesia is for real then?” the one named Lexington asks, an amused expression on his face, a blond eyebrow raised.

“Seems so,” Roman says, a warning in his tone. He’s done talking about this. “Tell me, is Vermont really all trees and bed and breakfast joints?”

“You should see it in the fall,” Chelsea says, too bright and too flirtatious. “You wouldn’t believe the colors.”

“Brother!” Orlando’s voice booms over the crowd. He bears his arms wide open, walking right up to Roman and wrapping him in a big hug Roman doesn’t reciprocate. “You look stunning and deadly as ever. And Juliet…” He makes this low, nearly pained-sounding groan. “Red is certainly your color.”

It’s definitely not. Purple seems to bring out my coloring best. But it doesn’t stop Orlando’s eyes from dropping down the length of me and slowly rising up.

“If you’d like to keep your eyes, you’ll watch where they wander,” Roman threatens.

“Don’t take things so seriously, Andres,” Orlando teases. “Sharing is caring.”

Roman’s hand snaps out, gripping Orlando by the collar. He drags his brother to his face, only a hair apart. “Leave Juliet the hell alone.”

Orlando shoves himself away from Roman, his brows furrowing. Chelsea and Charles make entertainedohandahhsounds, watching the drama unfold between long-lost brothers.

It isn’t lost on me, what Orlando said. That he was surprised Roman let him keep his limbs, something about it being over a woman. I’m not worried about whoever this woman might have been. But I wonder now, how many times Orlando has poked at Roman’s love life, all in the name of entertainment? Or how many times has he tried to take a woman from Roman, just for shits and giggles?

“Thereis the brother I lost,” Orlando says, a smile slowly curling on his lips. “Nothing done in harm. Come on, it’s a party. Let’s have a little fun.”

As if the DJ was listening to Orlando, the music changes, the volume increases, and the dancing starts. Orlando bounces out onto the dance floor, taking the hand of one of the human women. He twirls her around and dips her low. He trails his nose along her carotid artery and sinks his fangs into her neck.

My stomach turns a little. I’ve taken blood from unwilling victims before. I’ve killed two people. But it’s still traumatizing to watch. At least at Roman Nights, everyone knows what they’re getting into. I hope these humans really know what they’re here for.

I glance over at Elena, who raises an eyebrow and crooks her head to one side for just a second. And together, all three of us step forward to join this madness.

“Chelsea, may I have just one dance?” Santiago asks, taking the first opportunity he sees.

She sneers. No hiding it. No shame. But with a groan, she extends a hand, and Santiago takes it triumphantly.

I don’t think there’s actual attraction there. But Chelsea is a House leader, and Santiago is just any other House member. If he can get involved romantically with a Royal, his whole life could change.

Ambition can be found everywhere, human, gifted, or vampire.

I’ve never seen anyone who can drink like Chelsea. Booze, blood, she guzzles it all down. I have to try and be sneaky as I start shuffling the humans out of here when they start looking woozy. That’s the last thing we need, to have them turn into a Bitten or end up dead. I’ve only just fallen out from under the suspicion of Superintendent Day. I would really like to keep her nose out of our business.

Orlando is loud and obnoxious and absolutely enjoying the night. He doesn’t let anyone not participate. He drags people to their feet and pushes them out onto the dance floor. Santiago keeps following Chelsea around, and she keeps ignoring him for the most part.

Roman and I watch the party unfold, just waiting for the shoe to drop. Orlando is playing a game. No part of me doubts it.

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