Page 24 of House of Ruin
What if she tried her best, and yet Blaze didn’t fall? Was a man like Blaze Leveau even capable of love at all? Alecto wasn’t sure.
But then she remembered the way Galliermo had looked in that memory orb with her mother by his side. He was about Blaze’s age, looking like his twin. No doubt Galliermo had been smitten back then.
And if someone like Galliermo was capable of such feelings, then it had to be the same for Blaze.
When Alecto finally found her way back to Andro, a paper bag with her new bones was already waiting on the coffee table next to their seats.
She glanced inside to find a black muslin cloth bag, new and fresh. There was also a glass box with bronze rims sitting inside, the ivory bones resting on a black satin pillow.
“Will that be all, miss?” The same gnome reappeared seemingly out of nowhere.
“Also this,” she said, showing him the vial of black liquid. Then she turned to Andro still sprawled on the armchair. “You ready to go, princess?”
Lazily rising to his feet, Andro drawled, “I am, bitch. And I think we should stop by Raul’s to grab some lunch before we head back to Venefica. Let’s extend our pleasurable afternoon and delay coming back to that dreadful place a little longer.”
They followed the cheery gnome to the counter. He led them to the registry, ignoring the line of people, and punched in the price. “It’s going to be a hundred and seventy-nine garderstotal.”
Alecto pulled out her card holder from the inner pocket of her coat. She gave the shopping assistant the card and then turned to Andro. “Okay. Let’s go to Raul’s.”
10
When Alecto stepped outside the shop and a gust of wind almost knocked her off her feet, she once again wasn’t prepared.
Laughing, Andro caught her into his embrace before Alecto could kiss the concrete and dragged her down the narrow street on the left.
The distance from Holland Avenue to Raul’s wasn’t long, and soon they were standing in line outside a small restaurant, the smell of handmade tomato pasta with basil and fresh garlic sourdough bread tickling their noses.
Alecto hadn’t planned on eating in the city, but it was hard to say no to Raul’s cooking. And she could always even out the calories with another meal. As if agreeing with her, her stomach growled.
Fortunately, the queue was moving fast, and in less than fifteen minutes, Andro and Alecto strolled between the lines of small two-seat tables to the farthest corner of the restaurant, the waiter swinging his hips like he was strutting on a fucking runway.
Alecto had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling when they took their seats and the waiter didn’t even look Alecto’s way, all his attention focused on Andro.
Of course, Andro didn’t mind, not one bit, smiling at the waiter like they shared a secret.
“What can I get you today?” the waiter asked. His well-trained muscles shifted under his white shirt that was probably a size or two too small when he placed the menus in front of them. “Would you like to hear what’s on today’s special menu? The rosemary pasta with cream sauce is delicious.”
“I bet it is,” Andro drawled, dragging his eyes down the boy’s body not so subtly. Alecto snorted, opening her own menu. “Why don’t we start with a bottle of elderberry wine, and then you can tell me all about that special menu.”
With a smirk, the waiter hurried away.
“You’re such a whore,” Alecto said in a sing-song, her eyes on the menu. “And here I thought Gael was special.”
“They are all special,” Andro cooed, batting his long eyelashes. What was it with those damned boys and their extraordinary lashes? “For one thing or another. No need to expect one person to fulfill all our needs and desires.”
Alecto rolled her eyes.
Raul’s was the best place for pasta and anything full of carbs in Avalon Hills, not only Upper West Side. And somehow, most of the menu was eatable even for Alecto.
She flicked through pages, trying to decide between a plate of seafood pasta with mulberry wine sauce or a special Raul’s sandwich made with fresh sourdough bread, turkey breast and a load of other great stuff.
Before Alecto could decide, the waiter was back with two glasses and a new bottle of wine. He made quick work of the cork, clearly been trained well, and when the wine was in their glasses, Alecto took a sip.
“This is some good shit,” Andro commented, then finished off his glass. The waiter refilled it immediately, one hand bent behind his back as he leaned over the table, closer to Andro. “Thank you, handsome.”
“Have you decided already?” the waiter asked, his black curls falling over his bright green eyes. Not that Alecto had a long look at them, when they were 99 percent on Andro.
“Alecto?” Andro jerked his chin.
