The male nodded sagely. “The vampire male. Petra’s.”
“You know about that?”
The male shrugged. “Everyone knows. But they’ve left.”
“Yes,” Cruen ground out. Clearly, it was time to go. There was no reason to remain here. Not to hike around aimlessly, or catch up on the past.
“But you don’t have to,” the male said as if hearing his thoughts. He stepped forward. “My family, my faction, would love to see you.”
“Would they?” Cruen said with disinterest.
The male nodded. “My faction is also interested in science. In fact”—he lowered his voice—“we believe we may have found a way to slow aging.”
“Interesting,” Cruen said without much enthusiasm. “But unless you’ve developed something that infuses the body with power, magic, or strength, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take a rain check.”
Cruen motioned the guard to leave. The male had claimed he couldn’t flash inside the shifters’ forest, so they needed to return to the gathering stones. He started to walk away, but the young male called after him.
“We have something! Something like what you describe!”
Cruen stopped, turned around, his skin suddenly prickling with keen curiosity. “Go on.”
“It’s very new, and has a short shelf life, so to speak. But it has intense power.” The male lifted his dark brows. “Interested now?”
“I believe I am,” Cruen said. “Take me to see your family, shifter. A reunion is definitely in order.”
Synjon stepped out of the limousine, glanced around, and righted his cuffs.
The plans he’d made had taken only an hour, and though he didn’t want to barrel in and interrupt the party, he had this unstoppable need to see Petra.
No. That wasn’t right.
What he had was an unstoppable urge to know she and the balas were all right. He blamed it on instinct. Protecting his young and all that. Instinct was the best excuse he could come up with lately for the way he was acting, reacting. The alternative was simply inconceivable. Something about emotional attachment, falling in love, seeing a future.
The door made a quiet trilling sound as it opened. He hadn’t noticed that before. He moved inside the store, looking for life. Looking for her. When he found neither, he felt a sudden punch of concern compress his gut. What would he do if she’d been taken somehow? If her brothers or the Romans had come, to return her and the balas to the Rain Forest?
He moved deeper into the shop, heading toward the back, and was about to shout Petra’s name when he saw her emerge from a dressing room. Someone followed her, but Syn took absolutely no notice of the other being. His breath had left his body, and inside his chest something squeezed. Something he’d thought would never stir again.
Standing in the center of a veritable swimming pool of tissue-paper-lined bags was Petra. Her long, thick, straight dark hair framed her exquisite face, but it was her eyes that made his chest constrict once again. Lined with a thin smudge of coal, her ice-blue orbs popped with color and life, and when she looked up and caught him staring at her, she smiled.
Instinct, you ruddy bastard, he warned himself. Nothing more. Can’t be anything more. You don’t have it to give. You already gave it away to her father on that cold stone floor.
“You like?” she said, her voice uneven, as if she were a little nervous.
His gaze traveled the length of her. The dress she had on was nearly the same color as her eyes and hugged every inch of her extraordinary body, including her swell. She looked like a fucking princess. He’d never seen anything so beautiful, or so sexy, in his life.
“You’re a stunner, love,” he said, walking toward her.
Her smile widened. “Well, thank you.”
He’d spent an hour on their evening plans, and yet all he wanted to do now was take her home and remove that dress. Slowly. Kissing every inch of skin that was revealed to his hungry gaze.
“They said I needed to wear a cocktail dress for tonight?” She narrowed her eyes at him, but in a playful, sensual way that make his cock twitch.
Yes. Home, bed, naked, kisses, sounds good. And in that order, if you please.
“They even had shoes brought over from Barneys,” she continued. “What’s going on, Mr. Wise?”
Synjon first turned to the saleswoman, thanked her for her help, then addressed his driver, who had followed him in. “Take care of the bill, then put the bags in the car, please, Tom.”
“Very good, sir.”
Petra also thanked the saleswoman, who made a beeline for the register, and then she continued her quest for information. “Come on now,” she urged, meeting Syn halfway. “Tell me what you’re up to.”
“I suppose one could call it a gesture of goodwill.”
“And what would you call it?”
A date.
He took her hand, laced his fingers through hers. “You look fucking incredible,” he said, his eyes locking with hers. “Breathtaking.”
Her cheeks went pink at his compliment, but her expression grew uneasy. “Syn . . . I don’t know if this—”
“Come on,” he said before she had a chance to continue thinking. “I have a surprise for you.”
For most of her life, Petra had existed on flora and fauna, animals and sunsets, fresh, moist air and the entertainment of nights around a roaring fire, filled with laughter and tales of shifters gone long ago.
Tonight was a revelation.
A first.
And as she sat next to Synjon once again in the back of the limousine, she silently prayed it wouldn’t be her last. She loved her life in the forest, never wanted to give it up completely, but this—tonight . . . She was blown away. She was addicted. She had to have more.
“You’re quiet,” Syn remarked. “Everything all right?”
All right? She grinned and shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“There’s no dancing in the Rain Forest?” he asked.
She turned to look at him. “Not this kind. Not costumes and leaps and women dancing on their toes to the most beautiful music in the world.”
Clearly pleased with her assessment, Syn smiled. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I didn’t enjoy it, Mr. Wise.” She was pretty sure her eyes were two limpid pools of dreamy female. “I’m transformed.”
He laughed. “Then we must do it again.” He reached down and removed her shoes.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Ease back on the seat, love.” He brought her feet to his lap and began to rub the soles. “Just a little massage.”
She sighed at the instant relief she felt and let her head fall to the side against the leather before she uttered a breathy “Why?”
“I heard that females in swell appreciate it.”
“Who did you hear that from?”
He glanced up, though his fingers continued to work the bottoms of her feet. “Alexander.”
She smiled. “Well, I guess he would know.” It was so odd to think that both she and her half sister were pregnant at the same time. And yet they hadn’t spent a moment alone together. She wondered if that would change anytime soon.
“If you enjoyed the ballet”—he raked his hand up her calf, massaging deep into her muscle, making her feel so good she wanted to groan—“there’s so much more I can show you, introduce you to. There’s the opera, Broadway. I believe Eels is playing at Webster Hall, and Swedish House Mafia’s over at Barclays. There’s also comedy, a few irritating Christmas shows I’d force myself to watch if it pleased you, and if you appreciate art, I know a Pureblood veana and her twin brother who have a show opening this Friday in Brooklyn.”