Page 76 of The Forsaken Heir
She’d blushed and tripped over her words. “That’s not what I meant. I just want to be secure.”
I’d shifted to my dragon form and turned to her, my claws and talons uncoiling gently. Elle only hesitated for an instant before zipping my jacket around herself and stepping closer.
Now, as I circled the city and descended toward one of my family’s office buildings, I could hear her laughing in delight as the wind rushed up to meet us, billowing her hair and putting color in her cheeks. She seemed to be enjoying herself. Good.
With the darkness of a new moon, the skies were easier to traverse, with less chance of a human eye glancing up and seeing my serpentine form gliding through the sky. With the low cloud cover and my ink-black hide, I was nothing but a shadow gliding toward the roof. I chose our biggest office—a forty-story skyscraper that lay in the dead center of downtown, and only a two-block walk to the restaurant.
After we landed, Elle took a moment to get her legs back under her as I shifted back.
“Fun?” I asked.
She let out a little breath, and pushed her hair back, putting it up into a ponytail. “That was amazing. I can’t believe it took less than ten minutes to get down here.”
“You do get used to it.” I took her arm again and led her to the elevator. “It’s both a blessing and a curse, I guess.”
“What part?” she asked, frowning up at me.
The elevator was, for stylistic reasons, on the outer edge of the building, encased in glass, so the occupants could look out over the building. I pointed down at the lights of passing cars on the street below.
“I think about them a lot. Humans, I mean. Every single one of them, at some point in their life, has begged the universe to make magic real. As children, they read books, watch movies, play make-believe, and deep down they yearn for a world of enchantment. It’s almost as if, perhaps, in the past they too wielded it and lost it, and now it travels down their line in some sort of genetic memory.
“That fades as they grow older, and then they tell theirownchildren that the supernatural isn’t real. A whole life spent shattering magic in the minds of children. There is no Santa Claus, no Tooth Fairy, and wizards aren’t real. Dragons and werewolves are imaginary. All of it. Yet, they live in a world that is overflowing with spells and sorcery, and we always sort of forget that. Shifters have our own worries and desires, our own issues, and we get jaded by how amazing our lives really are. That’s what I mean by a blessing and a curse. We’re literally made of magic, and use it all the time, but we treat it like a human treats a toaster oven. I feel like, if we really thought about it more, we’d see the world with a bit more awe than we do now.” I shrugged helplessly. “Maybe that would help us get along better too.”
The elevator stopped on the ground floor, and the door slid open. Elle frowned up at me as we stepped out.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. I’m trying to figure out how you’re rich, gorgeous, funny, fantastic in bed,anda philosopher. Is there anything youaren’tgood at?”
“Well, I’ve never been any good at video games. God knows Rasp and Vince have tried, but I’m pretty hopeless. So, there’s that.”
Elle snorted and clung to my arm as we walked. “Good to know. I’m glad there’s something really important you can’t do. That’s great.”
“We all have our shortcomings.”
She poked me in the side. “Very funny.”
We arrived at the restaurant less than a minute before our reservation, and the hostess led us to our table. The place had been built inside an old department store from the nineteen-thirties. It had been transformed from a polished shop selling women’s clothing, homeware, and toys, to an upscale steakhouse with dim lighting, flickering candles, antique brick walls, black-and-white paintings, and pristine tablecloths.
“I’ve never eaten here,” Elle said as we took our seats. “I thought about it, but Delphine never wanted to.”
“Why not?” I asked, tucking my napkin into my lap. “The best steaks in the northwest.”
Elle studied the menu and smirked. “She doesn’t like places like this. She says they don’t cook the steaks enough. She likes hers well done and won’t go anywhere that refuses to cook it that way.”
I gaped at her. “You’re telling me a wolf shifter, a woman who lives with a wolf in her subconscious, doesn’t like meat unless it’s been cooked to death?”
“That’s what I tell her,” she said with an exasperated laugh. “When she’s in her wolf form, she eats whatever, but as soon as she’s back to being human, it’s right back to well- done and globs of ketchup or A1 Sauce.”
“Fucking sacrilege,” I said.
“Noshit, right?”
“Good evening,” the waiter said as he came to the table. “How are we doing tonight?”
“Well, and yourself?” I said.
He placed a hand to his chest. “I am wonderful now that I get to serve you two lovely folks,” he said. “What can I start you off with?”
