PHOENIX
A hangingfly has to make sure his mate has enough to eat the whole time they have sex. If she runs out before he’s done, she kicks him off.
“Langley is the one working her way through the End Men. How many have you had now, little sister?” A carbon copy of Langley leans forward to pluck an olive from a tray and pops it into her mouth.
They’re holding court and Langley is queen. There is a tittering of laughter among the women as they wait for her reply.
She mimes locking her lips and daintily tosses the key over her shoulder.
“Come on, at least tell us which of them was the best.”
She makes a show of thinking, tapping her chin with her finger.
“Jackal,” she announces.
I feel as if I’m going to be sick. Her sister makes a show of agreeing.
“It’s true,” says Langley. “He’s the best I’ve ever had...and each time was better than the last.”
I grind my teeth to keep from cursing. As if they’ve sensed an intruder in their midst, they all look up to see me standing there.
I feel the heat on my skin and step back, bumping into Sean’s chest. He puts his hands on either side of my arms. They turn back to their conversation just as suddenly as they paused.
“Folsom is a beautiful man, but he doesn’t know how to let loose. Jackal, on the other hand…” Her grin is smug as the other women laugh and inch in closer.
My hands tremble with the need to strangle her. Jackal failed to mention that he’d slept with the baby stealer—multiple times? Does he still think about her long pale legs wrapped around his back?
I shudder and shake my head, closing my eyes until the mental picture subsides.
“Are you okay?” Sean asks, moving to stand next to me.
“Fine. Just a little dizzy.”
“Too much champagne?” he asks.
I haven’t had any, but I nod. “Must be it.”
“What about Aries?” the woman to Langley’s left asks, just as Aries walks into the room behind us.
Langley’s eyes narrow and she looks like she wants to inhale Aries. She strolls toward him, hips and cleavage performing their own dance.
“He’s my next victim,” she sings and the whole room laughs, including Aries.
God, I want to be sick.
“I need to find the restroom,” I whisper in Sean’s ear. He points down the hall and I wonder how he knows where the restroom is. Has he been here before today?
The downstairs bathroom is occupied. I stand there for five minutes before I press my ear to the door and hear the heaving of someone throwing up. I glance up toward the top of the curving staircase. No one is around to see me; I can hear the raucous party coming from the main part of the house. Clutching the skirt of my dress between my fists, I take the stairs two at a time.
At the top of the stairs, I turn the corner, heading toward the room Gwen thinks is most likely the nursery. It was Langley’s niece’s nursery when she was a baby, and it’s possible that it’s still her room.
I hear a sweet voice singing and stop in the doorway. A little girl with beautiful red hair sits at a miniature table, coloring a poster. She’s concentrating on the picture, tongue out, and when she gets it how she wants it, she smiles so big, a dimple pops out.
I back away, hand over my stomach. The little girl has a smile like Jackal’s and it’s too much to process. It’s the first time I’ve thought about all of the little Jackals running around the Regions, the first time I’ve seen one of his daughters up close...I don’t know why it’s never crossed my mind. Now is not the time. I focus on the task at hand: Rebel.
I hear a baby crying and move toward the sound...the opposite end of the hall. I have to pass the steps again to get there and when I look down, Sean is in the entryway, looking up.
I don’t hesitate; I go down the stairs to meet him.
“Everything okay?” he asks, looking past me.
“I found the bathroom furthest from everyone,” I say, grinning.
The party gets increasingly louder, and I get more and more anxious as the night progresses. It’s getting closer to the time and no one is in a hurry to leave. I complain of stomach issues throughout the night while proffering Sean drink after drink. It’s not just Sean who is steadily getting drunk, the party is climbing in volume as the rest of the guests snatch glasses off of trays, losing count of how many they’ve had. Sean offers to take me back to the hotel, but I endure, making frequent trips out of the party under the guise of going to the bathroom.
At a quarter to midnight, I leave through the kitchen door and find my duffel hidden in its nook by the two willow trees. I step out of my evening gown and crumple it into the bag, slipping on dark sweats and a T-shirt. I put on the night-vision glasses and jog back to the house, moving much easier without all the material from my dress. I glance at my Silverbook to check the time. I’m a minute ahead of schedule. As I step inside the door, the power goes out. I grin. This, we did plan on. So far, so good. In another minute, every Silverbook in the house will power off.
I enter through the kitchen. There’s the crack of glass on tile as someone drops something. I wonder if Sean is worried about me. I hear nervous laughter and then cursing. Someone offers to check the breakers.
“They’re in the basement,” I hear Langley say.
“My Silverbook isn’t working,” someone else exclaims.
There’s a lot of shuffling as people check their own devices, all expressing the same thing. I only have a few minutes. I hurriedly go up the back staircase, and this time I go straight for the nursery. I wait while a nanny scurries out of there and down the stairs to check on the power, and I go into his room. He’s lying in his crib, staring back at me, unfazed by the dark. He kicks his feet and gurgles before I bend down and pick him up. He snuggles into me and I get a warm feeling in my gut.
I’m midway down the staircase when I hear voices.
“We don’t have to let this ruin our night,” Langley says.
“I prefer the dark,” Aries says.
I duck into a bedroom and pray it isn’t Langley’s and that the baby won’t make a sound. I hear someone stumble into a wall and Langley’s loud giggling. The sounds get closer and then I hear kissing and a moan. I lean my head back and wait until they pass and when it gets quiet again, I step into the hall.
I get to the kitchen and hear my name being called. Sean. Shit! I hop around in circles and the baby whimpers. Settle, settle! I inwardly shout at myself. Sean’s in the other room. Just trying to make sure you’re okay in the dark. I slow my breathing and walk carefully to the door. They’re looking for candles. I only have a few minutes before I’m seen. I open the back door and walk out into the musky night air. There is a tall shadow beyond the gate and I move quickly toward it. Jackal is past the courtyard and when I get near him, I reach out and twist his nipple as hard as I can.
He yelps and I put my hand over his mouth.
“What was that for?” he hisses.
“Langley?” I hiss right back.
He backs up and then rushes forward, kissing me on the forehead, his hands in my hair. I allow the moment and then I begrudgingly hand over the baby. My arms feel empty without him.
“You’re the only one I want to remember,” Jackal whispers. He leans down and kisses my lips softly, so quick that it’s over before I blink.
I take off running back to the duffel bag. I fling my sweats and shirt off, putting them in the bag and getting in my dress. Jackal follows, taking the bag, and he waves, not saying another word, and moves in the opposite direction. I hurriedly smooth my dress and hair. My heart feels like it’s going to fall out of my chest, I feel my pulse in my throat and chest, and even the soles of my feet pound in time with my heart. I attempt to appear graceful and calm—the grass is my stage—as I walk back to the front yard, where the party has gathered.
I move around until I find Sean. I grab his arm. “Oh my God, there you are! What happened?”
He pulls me in, hugging me hard. “There you are. I got worried when I couldn’t find you.”
“Had to hurry, so I went to the downstairs bathroom.” I laugh. “Good thing, because bam, lights out.”
He puts his hand on my neck and squeezes. “Should we head out? The party was winding down even before the power went out.”
“Yes, please. I’m exhausted.” I tug on his hand and he follows.
He motions to his driver and she pulls around the drive. He opens the door and I’m getting in when I hear commotion near the house.
“Sean,” I call.
He leans his head in, looking at me.
I pat the seat and nearly cry with relief when he gets in instead of following the sound of the cries by the house. My ears are tuned to what’s happening back there, but he seems oblivious. He shuts the door and I wilt into the seat. I deserve to burn in hell, but I clutch his hand and twist my neck to face him.
“Thank you for bringing me this weekend. It was fun seeing you in your element.”