Page 42 of Fanged Secrets
Maxine was at my shoulder before I could blink, pushing me aside and directing what looked like fearsome words at Dylan. “I can’t believe you! You went shopping and you didn’t even think to consult with me first?”
We both ignored her, and I knelt to inspect the colorful fabric spilling from one of the bags. I squinted up at Dylan, baffled by her cheery mood and sudden generosity.
“What’s wrong with my wardrobe?” I signed before my curiosity got the better of me and I tugged a silky something from the nearest shopping bag.
“You own five items of clothing and most of it is pajamas.” Dylan’s hands moved awkwardly, but a teasing smile played on her lips.
I offered a withering glare in response, but she did have a point. Also, she just confessed to going through my belongings. I filed that away to hold over her head later.
But all of my grievances fell away when I pulled a glistening garment from the fancy bag. It was an evening dress, all gauze and silk, lilac like the sky after sundown. Tiny silver beadssparkled like dewdrops. The gesture dislodged something in my chest, like somewhere deep down a door was opened.
I stared up at Dylan, mouth agape at the lavish gift.
Dylan was watching me with a soft smile, her usual guarded expression replaced by something tender. She looked… elated. Like she’d been carrying the world on her shoulders and suddenly the weight was lifted.
“Thank you,” I gestured slowly, touching tentative fingers to my lips. “It’s beautiful.”
Dylan shrugged, shoving her hands in her back pockets like it wasn’t a big deal. But her eyes shone with a light I’d never seen before. It looked good on her. She looked alive in a way I thought was impossible.
My heart did a flip in my chest, and I clutched the dress tightly, running fingers over the soft fabric. Like Dylan, I had tried restraint, tried to hold back the floodgates that threatened to buckle for her and her alone.
But the feelings were there, spilling out of my heart in volumes. There was no cramming it back in now.
That afternoon, I found myself at the public library, tapping away at a computer with Maxine hovering over my shoulder. Dylan was called out again to help prepare for the gathering and I was apparently to be kept under surveillance while she was out. She didn’t say as much, but when I stepped out of the apartment Maxine followed – conveniently, she had business to attend to at the library too.
I shifted in my seat, the glow of the screen punishing my tired eyes as I typed an email to my agent. There was only so much I could say with Maxine fluttering near my elbow, but I filled them in on an idea I’d had for a new story.
Maybe I could pitch it after this show is greenlit. When is that happening by the way?
Not pathetic at all. I hit send, leaning back in the chair and rubbing my temples. I still had no idea what to do about Dylan, or Don for that matter. This tug-of-war was getting out of hand, and I could not pick one side without causing dire consequences for the other. But there was no time to dwell on that now. I had more pressing concerns to address.
Maxine had missed her hair appointment.
She swept out of the library with a flurry of apologies, promising to be back for me in an hour or so. I molded my expression to one of solemn acceptance until she disappeared out the door.
With nothing better to do, I hung around the library for a while longer, relishing the blissful solitude while I had it. I tried looking up vampires and dragon shifters online, but the internet was surprisingly lacking when it came to any tangible knowledge on the subject. The first thing to pop up was a list of romance books, detailing harrowing love stories filled with hungry vampires and swooning heroines. My cheeks burned and I quickly closed the tab.
I prowled the bookshelves for a while, browsing for nothing in particular, when I glimpsed a familiar face between the shelves. I wrenched my hand back like I’d been scathed and rounded the corner, breath catching in my throat when I found myself face to face with my father.
"Amara." Don’s lips moved with a forced precision, strained and stern, but readable. "I think we’re due for a chat."
Before I could react, he grabbed my arm and yanked me between the bookshelves, secreting us away from any prying eyes. His grip was firm and I could see the anger simmering just beneath his controlled exterior.
"Tell me, I’m curious – “ His lips moved swiftly, and I could see the anger etched into every line of his face. “Why did my last message to you go unanswered?"
I yanked my arm away, rubbing at the ache he’d left with his tight grip. I pulled out my phone, opening the app with shaking fingers and typing a feeble response. “There wasn’t anything new to report.”
Don’s eyes narrowed and his features contorted into a scowl. “Don’t lie to my face.”
I searched over his shoulder for help, desperate for Maxine, someone – anyone. But the library was empty that afternoon and Don had me trapped between the bookshelves, backing me up until my shoulders hit the wall behind me.
He hissed the words, spittle flying from his lips as he towered over me. “Where were you yesterday?”
I shrank away from him, scrambling for the right words to get him off my back. I couldn’t tell him about Dylan. And I didn’t want to. Not anymore, not after everything we’d been through. But his question was worrying.
Don looked disheveled, frantic. His shirt was half buttoned and his hair uncharacteristically unkempt like he’d left home in a rush to come find me. Most likely he’d interrogated Carlo on my whereabouts – the bulky guy had driven me to the library often enough to know my schedule. But why would Don show up at all? In my father’s eyes, everyone including his daughter was a dog to be brought to heel, but it wasn’t like him to lose his cool over one unanswered text.
I searched my father’s eyes, a new thought occurring amid my panic. Did he know we went to the warehouse yesterday? And if that was true, what else was my father not telling me?
