Page 33 of Blood and Hexes

At a Distance

Diana hadn’t doubted that Avani would seek her out the moment she was alone. Eager to ignore the event she was not mentioning, she purposely sought the company of just about anyone else—the witches, Alexius, Cat, and hell, even Chloe. She wasn’t avoiding Avani per se, but she was doing her best to circumvent the line of questioning she could see coming a mile away.

It worked for about forty hours. Two days later, Greer mentored them through a yoga session, showing them stretches that Diana was going to file in her memory for later use. Then all of a sudden at the end of the impromptu living room class, Chloe said, “I need to go, I have a paper due.”

Greer groaned. “Alexius wants me to monitor a bacteria farm. I should get down to the lab, too.”

Blair and Gwen also had stuff to do, which left Diana alone in the house with Avani. She couldn’t very well escape without making it painfully obvious that she was attempting to evade Avani. What if the woman took it personally? Diana didn’t want issues with her sister-in-law. And she wasn't a coward, dammit. Well, not much of one.

She steeled her spine, eyeing Avani warily.

To her surprise, the she-wolf laughed. "You know, I used to think you didn't look much like Alexius, but that face? The cornered puppy look? He used to do the exact same thing when he was alone with me."

Diana cleared her throat. "I'm not..."

"Chill. I'm not going to ask anything, honestly. There are such things as boundaries. If you don't want to talk about shoving your tongue down Mikar's throat, it's none of my business." Avani shrugged, hopping onto a nearby couch.

Diana gawked at her sister-in-law, at a loss. "Really?"

"I mean, not that I'm not curious. But you know. Your life. I'm not Chloe."

That, she definitely wasn't. Chloe Eirikrson would have probed, pushed and tugged until she spilled her guts.

"Oh. Well, there's nothing to say, anyway."

Avani rolled her eyes. "I said I wasn't going to push, not that I was an idiot."

Diana joined her on the sofa. It was an old, ugly thing, with too many flourishes for her taste, with carved fleur-de-lys encrusted with what looked like real diamonds. The entire house had been decorated oddly—except for her room, and she supposed, Alexius's, although she hadn't seen it. She didn't see her brother's hand anywhere. Some chambers seemed to adopt a Roman style, others were Gothic, and some, Victorian. Generations of Helsings had no doubt claimed rooms and adorned them as they pleased. The ensemble was quite grotesque. "There's honestly nothing to say. We were arguing, and he kissed me in the heat of the moment, that's all." She shrugged. "He hasn't even talked to me since."

They'd seen each other daily, and Mikar nodded a greeting toward her when he entered a room where she was. She returned it, perfectly civil. That was it. Diana was glad there was no more awkwardness and stupidity.

The kiss had been stupid. The fact that she found her mind drifting off, imagining the pressure of his skin on hers, the heat of his touch, the burn of his scent, was even more so. He was a resident of Oldcrest, one of her brother's friends. Diana didn't do complications. And he was too…confident. Too sure of himself, his place, his power. Diana knew who and what she was, she didn't make apologies for it, but his level of self-worth bordered on arrogance. It wasn't sexy. She refused to think of his cocky grin as hot. Diana wasn't the kind of women who fell for jerks with huge egos, dammit.

"Yeah?" Avani was trying not to smile, and mostly failing. "You sound bothered about that."

"Well, I'm not." Her tone was final.

Again, her sister-in-law shrugged, as if to say, suit yourself.

Diana didn't leave.Not that day, not the next. Things were getting too comfortable here, dark, tall, and handsome men notwithstanding.

For one, they had good tea on the hill.

"Anna Russell truly was a treasure to this empire," she mused, popping a jam and clotted cream scone between her lips. “Someone should have turned her.”

Always a pastry enthusiast, Diana knew her cakes. She was a connoisseur of scones in particular. She'd eaten them in her childhood and every time she could get her hands on some since. These were good scones. Fluffy, not overly sweet, lighter than most, yet deliciously buttery. She licked her fingers clean.

"Anna who?" Chloe asked, attacking yet another cupcake. She'd been stuffing her face since the start of the party at Catherine's house. And no wonder—she was eating for two. One and a half? Or maybe just one and a peanut at the moment.

Diana hadn't heard anyone mention Chloe's pregnancy, which meant that the woman had either kept the news to herself, or just shared it with Levi. She bet on the first option. Levi didn't seem freaked, or overprotective, like Diana believed he would have been if he'd known that his mate was carrying his child. Levi was on the other side of the vast hall, chatting with Sylvan, although his eyes frequently returned to Chloe. He may not have noticed the difference in Chloe’s scent yet. It was barely perceptible. If he’d smelled it, there was no guarantee he’d linked it to pregnancy. Diana had figured it out because her mother had explained a sweeter scent was the first sign they could detect when they were expecting children, as vampire women didn’t get any periods. She doubted male vampires were given the same sex-ed pep talks.

Most—if not all—of Oldcrest had been invited to this tea party. Everyone but the wolves, it seemed. Diana had heard enough of what had occurred between the pack in the Wolvswoods and Avani to know why they weren't hanging out with everyone else. Fortunately, the Stormhales’ Greco-Roman manor was vast enough to fit twice as many guests.

"Russell," Cat, seated straight, with her legs crossed, on an armchair opposite Diana, replied. She nodded solemnly at Diana. "The world wouldn't be the same without her."

Chloe sighed, turning to Gwen, Greer, then Blair, who shared her blue velvet sofa. She entirely bypassed Alexius, though. "Is it just me, or does it feel like those two have their own language?"

Diana rolled her eyes, helping herself to another scone. "She was the Duchess of Bedford, sometime in the nineteenth century of the last era. She attended court, but every afternoon, she got dizzy and weak. She'd sneak out to her room and eat some cake or light sandwiches. Then her lady friends found out and figured it was a wonderful idea. And Afternoon Tea was born."

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