Dark Debt (Chicagoland Vampires 11)

His gaze raked my body like a spurned lover, and I swallowed back a bolt of lust. I wasn’t supposed to be lusting for Ethan, or at least giving in to it. We’d broken up.

He gave me a rough perusal before looking away, turning to the woman who stood before him, a brunette with a glossy bob of dark hair, her curvy body tucked into a sleeveless black dress with a flared skirt and black Mary Jane–style shoes with stiletto heels. His hand was on her nipped-in waist, and jealousy stronger than any I’d ever known bolted through me.

If she didn’t have a hand on his arm, and I wasn’t filled with a completely irrational bout of jealousy, I’d have appreciated how gorgeous she looked, and how perfect his snub had been.

I reminded myself to compliment her later. As for now, I gave her a scathing look before turning away, giving my back to both of them . . . and laying into Luc.

“Margot?” I whispered. “He invited Margot as his date to the Investiture? She’s my chef.”

Luc guffawed through the earpiece. “She’s the House’s chef, Sentinel, and she was Ethan’s chef first, in any case. And he knew you’d get a kick out of that. And it makes the performance so much more real.”

“You look amazing in that dress, but you’re turning absolutely green.”

I turned to find Mallory and Catcher behind me, both wearing amused expressions. Mallory’s dress was Grecian in style, a long skirt of draped fabric gathered in gold clips at the shoulders and a thin gold belt around the waist, The fabric was vibrantly blue, which matched hair that curled around her head in a loose updo, a gold-ribboned headband holding it in place. At least I wasn’t the only one wearing color.

Catcher wore a black suit over a white button-down, no tie, the top button unfastened. He looked sexy and a little rough around the edges, like a race car driver.

“I’m not jealous. I’m envious. There’s a difference.”

“You know he can hear everything you’re saying right now, right, Sentinel?” Luc asked with no little amusement. “He has an earpiece, too.”

When Ethan grinned down at Margot, a smile probably meant for me, I didn’t much care. “Then he’ll hear me warn him: Touch her again and lose a finger,” I said sweetly.

Mallory grinned. “Merit doesn’t like other people touching her things.”

“Any sign of Balthasar?” I asked.

“Not yet,” Catcher said.

“Damn,” Mallory intoned, amazement in her voice. “Are there any ugly vampires?”

I glanced in the direction of her dreamy smile, found Jonah walking toward us, eyes on me. His auburn hair gleamed like bronze, highlighting his blue eyes, and in his dark tux, he looked like an Armani runway model.

“Get out of my dreams,” Lindsey sang into my ear, “and into my car.”

“There’s a lot of male sexualizing going on right now,” Luc said. “And it’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Snark is allowed on an op,” I reminded him.

“Check out Mallory’s boobs again,” Lindsey said to him. “You’ll feel better.”

Mallory grinned, wiggled her shoulders for effect. She was in a good mood, which made me hopeful she’d talked to Catcher and resolved her doubts. But we’d get to that later.

“Focus,” I said. Since Jonah kept his gaze on me as he approached, I kept my gaze on him.

“Hello,” he said, eyes dipping to take in the gown, the lace, the skin. “You look nice.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

I felt the burst of Ethan’s magic across the tent. Party guests noticed, too, and began whispering, just as if we’d actually broken up. The ruse had played pretty well.

“If you touch her,” said a familiar voice in my earpiece, “you’ll lose something more precious than a finger.”

“Take a breath, Sullivan,” Jonah intoned, his gaze on me. He slid his hands into his pockets, and I braced myself for the worst, for him to ask me to return the saints’ medal he’d given me to mark my RG membership.

But his tone was utterly bland. “Any sign of Balthasar yet?”

I surmised he was still angry, whether at me, the RG, or the circumstances.