I nodded but didn’t elaborate. Even I couldn’t muster up words convincing enough about Jonathan to portray him as anything but mildly annoying and overly clingy.
The phone in my pocket buzzed, making me flinch.
Valentine raised a brow. “Answer it.”
“I’ll listen to the voicemail later.”
His features tightened, and a petty flare of triumph warmed my chest. If he was looking to overhear my conversation with whoever had just called, I was onto him.
We sat in silence, staring at each other from across the table. Valentine’s looks were everything—sleek, black hair with highlights that changed color according to the surroundings, a strong brow and sharp cheekbones.
I avoided his eyes because a girl could get lost in those orbs for hours, and dropped my gaze to his full, curving lips and dimpled chin.
After having a guy like that, it was no wonder I couldn’t muster up an interest in human men. Valentine looked like the god of scoundrels and seduction had carved him out of bronze and breathed him into life.
“Will you at least consider a bodyguard?” he asked.
“Like the man who stood outside the shop?”
Valentine inclined his head.
“Do I have any choice?”
He flashed me a grin of dazzling eyes and impossibly white teeth that made my heart flip.
Tamping down my reaction, I twisted my features into a scowl. “What’s the point of asking me?”
Valentine raised a shoulder. “At least the next time a vampire follows you across the square, you can be assured he’s looking out for your safety.”
I paused, examining his face for clues of duplicity, but Valentine had always been such a convincing liar. My lips tightened. It wasn’t as though I had any choice in the matter. Valentine would send whoever he wanted to follow me wherever I went. He was probably only asking me as part of an elaborate plan.
“Fine,” I said with a sigh, “But this vampire of yours had better not get in my way.”
The corners of his lips curved into a smile. I narrowed my eyes, wondering what the hell Valentine was scheming.
Chapter Six
After excusing myself to go to the bathroom, I took the long route around the hotel, feeling out for signs of Valentine’s guards. They’d all lined the main pathway from the entrance to the restaurant, so I found myself able to take a side exit undetected.
I stepped out of the hotel, grimacing at the line of people waiting for black cabs. By the time Valentine realized I had ditched him, I’d still be out here, a standing target.
On the other side of the busy highway was Hyde Park in all its leafy glory. Right now, I could disappear into those trees, but it would mean crossing that busy road. Cold wind swirled through my hair, beckoning me to get moving or it would freeze my ass. The crystal shop was only a ten-minute walk away and would be shorter if I cut through the back streets.
Instead of turning right into Park Lane and enjoying the sights of the park, I took the nearest street and hurried down the side of the hotel. Valentine was probably rising from his fancy booth, wondering what was taking me so long. Too bad I’d be back home before he realized I’d had enough of his edicts and half-truths.
Wrapping my arms around my chest, I hit the paving stones at double time. The white coat was still in the cloakroom where the waiter had checked it, and I hadn’t been about to alert Valentine of my leaving by trying to get it back.
I left that lunch more confused than ever, still not knowing if this supposed danger hanging over my head was an elaborate hoax. It helped me understand one thing: Valentine Sargon was as slippery as he was untrustworthy.
As I turned left into South Audley street, which had the narrowest sidewalk I’d seen in the whole of Great Britain, I wondered if Valentine had any faerie blood.
Faeries were also unfeasibly beautiful creatures renowned for their ability to seduce. Like vampires, they needed supernatural beings of low magical power to reproduce, but that didn’t mean they respected us or humans.
While supernatural vampires treated human blood as a delicacy, the delicacy of choice for faeries was human misery. Anyone unfortunate enough to strike a bargain with a faerie often found that it backfired, so they not only didn’t get what they’d bargained for but ended up in a form of eternal slavery.
As I turned into South Grosvenor Street, a long, black vehicle filled the periphery of my vision. I quickened my pace, even though it was impossible to out-walk, outrun, or out-anything a limousine.
Behind it, someone honked their horn, followed by the driver’s shout to stop curb crawling, followed by the whirr of an electric window.
My breath quickened. Valentine was going to say something. He could have stepped out and walked at my side. It was an overcast day, and sunlight didn’t bother him as much as it did other vampires, but he peered out through the limousine’s window, saying nothing as he watched me trudge through the backstreets of Mayfair.
I shook my head. Strip away the handsome exterior, extensive wealth, and cultured conversation, and he was just another entitled asshole who used his silver tongue to get what he wanted out of a girl before casting her aside.
It was four by the time I reached the tree-lined garden of Grosvenor Square, and I was sick of the limousine, the angry drivers behind it, and Valentine’s silent presence.
Guessing that he already knew where I lived, I pulled out my key and stopped outside my building, opened its front door, and stepped into the warm hallway. As soon as it clicked shut behind me, I rested my back against its wood and exhaled a long breath.
I survived. I survived the return of Valentine without once feeling a pang of love or longing or lust. I stared into those violet eyes, seeing nothing but a supernatural beauty honed by magic to ensnare its prey.
Warm triumph filled my chest, and I bounded across the black-and-white-tiled hallway, taking the marble stairs two at a time.
This was it. The beginning of the rest of my life. A life I was free to live as a human. My thighs ached from the seven-story climb. When I reached the attic, my breath came in rapid pants, feeling like I’d had a great workout. In a way, I had. I’d worked Valentine out of my system.
I unlocked my apartment door, and a bolt of warm fur streaked out into the hallway with a mraaw!
“Macavity?” I twisted around, watching the leopard skin cat bolt down the hallway and down the stairs. “What’s wrong with you?”
When I checked my phone, it was a voicemail from Beatrice, saying she was bored at work and asking if we could meet earlier. I texted back, telling her I couldn’t wait, and she texted back to say she would meet me at Souk.
Souk was a bar that served Moroccan food and the most delicious cocktails. Most people went to check out the Middle Eastern decor and stayed to smoke the hookahs, elaborate tobacco pipes that allowed you to smoke a range of exotic blends through long tubes.
The bar attracted a young, artistic crowd—the complete opposite to Christian—and I couldn’t wait. After changing into a pair of dark jeans and a tank top, I sauntered into the bathroom and stared into the mirror.
The girl looking back seemed to glow. I drew close to the reflection, examining my features. Gone were the faint circles under my eyes and the dull grey in my blue irises. Instead, my eyes shone with the fire of determination. Determination to start my life anew and commit Valentine to a distant memory. Even my skin glowed with challenge.