Page 82 of Depravity

“Don’t touch me.” I growl under my breath.

“No? But you could touch me,” She says, battering her eyelids. “I haven’t even seen you since…”

I know what she’s alluding to.Whoshe’s alluding to.

I shrug her off and go to get a drink, only the bitch follows me.

“I’d almost think something of it.” She murmurs, taking her own glass and sipping it. “I’d almost think you were avoiding me. But why would that be?”

“Yes, why?” I reply, letting my sarcasm hang there.

She scans my face for a second. “Did you have something to do with her disappearance?”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on, the girl doesn’t have the brains to pull something like this off. She was too stupid to run away and not get caught. So, either she’s dead in a ditch and we haven’t found her, or she had help…”

“And you think I’m involved?” I reply.

She smirks. “You did seem to watch her so very much.”

“It beat looking at her aunt.” I snarl, not caring if she hears the hate in my voice or not.

“You think she was prettier than me?” She hisses.

I drag my eyes over her; seeing that heavily made-up face, the way she’s spent hours styling her hair and that dress, the way it clings to her body in a way that screams desperation, not seduction.

She takes in a long, deep, pissed off drag of air, and then turns on her ridiculously high heels and struts away.

“What the fuck was that about?”

I groan as my brother comes to stand beside me. How he managed to sneak up I don’t know, but it can’t be a good thing to have his undivided attention at this moment.

“Lovers tiff.” I mutter.

He raises his eyebrows looking at the figure still storming away.

“Where is she?” He asks.

“Who?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

Fuck, I hate that tone. I hate the way he still thinks he can parent me, even though we’re way fucking past that point in our lives. I turn to look at him, and he glares at me for a second.

“Oh no you didn’t.” He says, as if he can read on my face everything I’ve done over the last god knows how many weeks.

“Didn’t what?”

He grabs my shirt, pulling me in so that we’re nose to nose. Neither of us are particularly small men. “Tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”

“You wanted an heir, Magnus.” I state.

He shoves me back, shaking his head, then lands a punch before I can even see him swing his arm. As he goes to punch me again, I dodge it but Liliana is there, stepping between us.

“What is this?” She says. “Magnus, stop,”

“Don’t you tell me to stop, woman.” He snarls back.

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