Page 4 of Blood and Magic
I glanced at my twin, sending my own mental message.
What are they hiding?
“What’s with the secret glances?” Ava said.
I didn’t like being kept in the dark. The only two who were allowed to share telepathic communication were Ava and me, and we had identical DNA. Our neural synapses had been formed together in the same amniotic sac. Ergo, we were entitled.
“What? Can’t sisters be worried about their family?” Guin rolled her eyes and returned to the vanity mirror, placing another pin curl in her hair. “God forbid.”
After our mother died, Guin had stepped into the role of matriarch. She kept the rest of us in line and protected us from the extent of our wicked family. But she never lied to us, not about something important. To see her go from hating the Bastards to welcoming them with a rapidly decreasing frost made me curious.
Ava glanced back at me. They’re definitely hiding something.
Agreed, I mentally replied.
“You’ll let me know if you start feeling different, right?” Guin said. “Both of you?”
“Different how?” Ava asked, narrowing her gaze.
“Just…different,” Sol said, glancing at her phone again. I could have sworn her eyes changed to amber and back to green, but perhaps I’d imagined it. After all, no one’s eyes changed colors like that, and she’d inherited the same emerald irises as our mother. Ava and I, along with Galahad and Liam, had gotten our father’s dark coloring. “Anyway, the rehearsal is tomorrow. Everyone will be here except for Van.”
The mention of my childhood crush got my attention, and I snapped my gaze to my sister.
“Why not?” Guin asked. “He’s a groomsman. He can’t miss the rehearsal.”
“He said he had a conflict,” Sol said. “Orion told me to drop the issue, so I didn’t argue.”
“Well, the show must go on, I suppose,” Guin said, looking at me before returning to her hair prep.
“Are you sure you don’t want a bachelorette party?” Ava said. “We still have time. We could take the family jet anywhere. Atlantic City. Vegas.” She gasped as if an idea had just occurred to her. “Monaco.”
Sol laughed and shook her head. “No. There’s no reason to aggravate my betrothed any more than I already have by insisting we spend the night before the wedding apart.”
“I’m surprised he let you out of his sight,” Guin said. “Bastards are notoriously territorial.”
“Speaking of Van,” I said, clearing my throat. “Are you two still together?”
Guin snorted and shook her head. “Heavens, no. As I said, there’s no man with hands big enough to carry my crown, and I like it that way.”
Sol giggled.
“What?” Guin balked and stared at our youngest sister.
“Nothing,” Sol said. “Nothing at all.”
Guin returned her forest-green eyes to me with narrowed inspection. “Why do you ask?”
I pretended like my interest in the Bastard was purely professional. He’d worked the ranch in his early twenties, back when I was just starting to go through puberty. He and Guin had been…friends? Friends with benefits? A hearty teenage fling? With her, it was difficult to tell. She treated boyfriends with the same apathetic disinterest as she did strangers.
In the deepest, darkest recesses of my poor pathetic heart, I’d admit I had a teeny tiny crush on him when he worked here. Most of the day workers ignored us or acted like my father might shoot their eyes out for even glancing in our direction. But Van had been nice…decent…dare I say, flirty?
But then he’d left and joined the Royal Bastards and became our enemy. Except now they weren’t enemies, and the lines were so blurred, I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel anymore. I hadn’t seen Van since I was a little girl, but the thought of his bright brown eyes and big smile sent a shiver down my spine, pooling in my lower stomach.
I was twelve years younger than him, barely more than knees, elbows, and braces at the time. But he saw me, and growing up in Guin’s massive shadow meant not many people did. He’d been a part of my sexual awakening, and if I happened to have a preference for blonds, well, could anyone honestly blame me?
At such a tender age, he’d made an impression.
“Just curious,” I said in answer to my sister’s question. Shrugging and ignoring the steady thump of my heart as it pounded against my ribs, I kept my gaze fixed on my drawing. The mere thought of Van set my pulse skyrocketing for no obvious reason. I decided it was the remnants of an early girlhood fascination and let it go.
