Page 52 of There's Something About Dragons
Cari
I saw the spreadsheet. It’s over. Don’t contact me again.
I drop the bag with the bracelet in it on the floor of the shop. My chest hollows, the emptiness inside taking over, swallowing my thoughts. My ability to breathe.
My worst fear is happening. Now that Cari knows the full extent of my stalking, she wants nothing to do with me. Mymatedoesn’t want to see me again. My feral form is so devastated, he can’t even roar his disapproval. He howls, mourning for her so loudly my ears ring.
“Everything okay?” When I don’t answer immediately, the trolless steps around the counter and picks up the bag, pressing it into my hand. “Whatever it is, life will go on. You’ll see.”
I thank her for her platitudes and swallow the bile rising in my throat. Life will nevergo onfrom Cari. Sheismy life. I think our fifteen years apart proved that.
I stumble out of the shop onto the San Drogo boardwalk. Every instinct in me, every thought and impulse, says I should go to her. But she doesn’t want me there. She doesn’teverwant me there, not because of how she feels about me now, but because of what I did to cope while we were apart.
It’s not fair! She was never supposed to see that. The spreadsheet was only a tool to learn everything I could abouther, so I could be a good mate to her. Blindly, I pull out my phone and text her back.
Zed
I love you, Cari. Please, give me a chance to explain everything. I won’t bother you again if you’ll hear me out.
The message turns red.Undeliverable, it reads beneath it.
She blocked me.
Fuck.
I lean against the rail of the boardwalk and stare out at the ocean. Tiny flecks of white dot the horizon, boats sailing back into the harbor. Or maybe they’re not coming back. Maybe they’re sailing away.
What am I going to do?
My feral form already has some ideas, and they involve killing whoever showed her the spreadsheet. Not a bad idea, now that I think about it. There’s only one person who could have done it, who has the technical expertise and wants me out of the way. A certain sulfur-stinking demon with good hair and a bad attitude.
He’s easy to find. Of course, he lives in the penthouse of the building with his name in fifteen-foot letters across the front.
“I need to see Tristan,” I tell the doorman at the desk. He asks my name, and I give it.
He shakes his head. “If you’re not on Mr. Vance’s list, I can’t let you in.”
“Tell him it’s about Cari,” I urge. “Please. It’s urgent.”
He sighs heavily like I’m wasting his time but makes the call. He lifts his eyebrows in surprise at whatever he hears on the other end of the line. He hangs up, shrugging. “Go on up.”
The private penthouse elevator takes me to a luxe marble foyer with only one door. When Tristan answers my knock, I punch him in the face. Hard.
It knocks the glamour right off him. His slobbering, purple form stares at me in shock as I push past him into the penthouse.
“What was that for?” he shrieks in helltones before gathering himself and resuming his polished, human appearance. His glamour probably won’t even bruise.
“For ruining my life,” I roar back. “What kind of vindictive bullshit was that?”
“Stop shouting, you’re scaring Impy.” Tristan picks something up from the curved sofa, cradling it in his arms. It’s a fluffy, slightly grizzled-looking gray cat that yawns and blinks blearily at me with yellow eyes. “What’s going on with Cari? Is she all right?”
“No, she’s not! You ripped her heart out, and for what? Imatedher. Did you stop to think for one second how that would affect us both for the rest of our lives when you decided to set off a bomb in the middle of our relationship?!” Smoke leaks from my nostrils as I pace back and forth in the long, open loft that’s big enough to house a whole hive of dragons. What a waste for one person.
“Settle down. You’re going to set off the sprinklers,” he says, plopping down on the sofa with his cat still in his arms. He pets her, and the cat leans into his hand, purring. He’s smart, that’s for sure. If he wasn’t holding her, I’d punch him again.
“Why?” I rage at him, smacking my fist into my palm instead. “Why’d you do it? Are you still pissed that I told her you’re a demon? Because she didn’t even care about that, if I remember right. She was ready to feel sorry for you. If she cut you off as a friend, it’s becauseyoufucked up, not me. It was cruel to send her that spreadsheet. Low, even for you.”
“What are youtalkingabout?” Tristan frowns from his place on the couch. “I didn’t send Cari anything. I haven’t spoken with her since the gala. I adopted a new cat yesterday, and I’ve beenbusy getting him settled in. I don’t know anything about any spreadsheet.”
