Page 25 of Reap the Night
“Looks like they’re done,” Ordell said.
“Finally,” Hemlock groaned.
Ezekiel stood and rounded the table to help Ariella from her seat—the perfect gentleman. She stood, moving close to him, stepping into his aura, his heat. My stomach clenched. He held my gaze while dropping a kiss on top of her head.
I kept my expression neutral even though my insides were in some kind of epic battle.
Finally, they left, moving toward the exit. I slid from my seat and followed them out into the night.
“I’ll bring Betsy around.” Hemlock hurried off. We’d be trailing Ezekiel back to the stables where the bat boys would take over guard duty and get him to Branwood.
Technically, I should stay with him all the way, but he’d made his wishes clear, and I wasn’t about to argue. My main role was to temper his hunger, which he seemed to have under control, and he was at full strength, so the short drive from stable to Branwood with his minions on guard would be fine…
Yeah, he would be fine.
Stop it, Orina.
Ordell and I lingered on the pavement as Ezekiel helped Ariella into the fancy car. The same car that he’d bundled me into more than once.
Would he press her to the leather seats and cage her in with his body? Would he breathe her in too? Scrape his fangs along the column of her neck and whisper dirty things that would make her wet?
He shut the door on her and strode over to us, stepping into my personal space to look down his nose at me. His nostrils flared, and a small smug smile lifted his beautiful lips.
“You can leave us now,” he said.
“Not until you’re at the stables and Godor is with you.”
He glanced up at the roof of the building opposite, and I followed his gaze to see several winged figures perched there.
Godor and the bat boys. “Did you even need me here tonight?” The summit and large gatherings and stuff like that I could understand, but an intimate dinner?
“Why? Did you not have fun?”
“Fun? Watching you canoodle is hardly my idea of fun.”
His lips lifted in a sneer. “No, it isn’t, is it?” He turned on his heel and strode back to the car. “You’re dismissed.”
What the fuck?
He yanked open the door, threw himself into the vehicle, and had barely slammed the door when it peeled away from the curb and into the night, taking him with it. Away from me.
“Are you all right?” Ordell asked.
No. “Yeah. But he isn’t. I mean, what the fuck is his problem?”
Betsy purred her way up the street toward us. “Come on, I’ll buy you that ice cream I promised you weeks ago.”
Any other day or night, I’d have jumped at the offer, but my social meter was running low. I needed to crawl under a duvet and have a cry. “Not tonight.”
“If you want to know what Ezekiel’s problem is then you’ll come with us.”
Dammit. “Fine, but you’re buying me three scoops.”
“Deal.”
Chapter 10
Who knew that Whistlethorpe Ice Cream Parlor was open late every day? People loved ice cream, and patrons chose to come here after they’d been to a bar or a restaurant. They had all the flavors. More variety than at a restaurant. And after seven p.m., you could also get warm waffles and donuts, making this a winning place to come.
