Gravity (17 page)

enough to know it wasn’t in their best interest to make an enemy of a Lord. “And who is this young

specimen?”

“This is my female,” Tarek said, tightening his grip around my waist. “A Mage. Lovely, is she

not?”

“Ah,” he said with a twist of his mouth. “But you cannot bear young with a Mage. How will you

continue your family line?” They spoke as if I weren’t even there.

“There are old laws that will entitle me to more than one mate, Niles.” Tarek winked. “I think

it’s time we fully embrace our heritage and restore some of our old customs. Out with the new and

in with the old.”

The man with the fat belly and beady eyes patted Tarek’s shoulder. “Good man. I quite agree.

It’s always nice to have… tokens.” He winked back at Tarek and raised his arm to grab the

attention of a man across the room. This Chitah was tall, lean, and much older than the rest.

“Peter, come say hello.” Niles beckoned the man over and he strode up with his arms hanging

stiff at his sides, flicking his light brown eyes between all of us without a hint of expression.

“Tarek, you haven’t met Peter. He’s Lord of the Inman Pride. Peter, this is Tarek Thorn, our

newest addition.” An elegant smile spread across his face as he watched the two men bow to each

other.

Peter straightened his back. “We look forward to a long partnership with you, Tarek. It’s good

to see a shift in power. Introductions?” His eyes dragged all the way down to my red shoes. He

might have only slept with his own Breed, but he was a man, and he liked what he saw.

“This is Silver, my female.”

When he said it the second time, I heard the creak of Christian’s shoe taking a single step

forward. Tarek’s eyes narrowed at him.

Niles eyed me and rubbed the side of his pug nose. “I can’t help but think she looks familiar,

Tarek. Where did you find her?”

Tarek beamed and puffed out his thick chest, dressed in a tailored black suit and tie. He had

been waiting for this moment. “She was once claimed by Logan Cross.”

Niles laughed, slapping his hand on his knee. “Of course, the Mage at the Gathering! I

congratulate you,” he nearly growled. “What an excellent choice she has made—the obvious one.”

His eyes lingered on the open part of my neckline. “For her to deny a male who staked such a

public claim on her? Poor bastard. You are a worthy male indeed, Mr. Thorn.”

Tarek’s hand owned my hip. Why did this have to be such a production? Why not just send an

announcement that we were getting hitched? Oh God, I felt nauseous just thinking about it.

Hushed murmurs surfaced through the crowd and Peter cleared his throat. “The Overlord,” he

whispered. “What a rarity.”

A statuesque man with citrine-yellow eyes and coal-black hair glided in our direction. He wore a

long, dark trench coat and carried a walking stick. Not that he needed it, but he did appear more

seasoned than most of the men in the room. If I had to guess, he was close to a thousand years

old and looked to be in his late fifties. He had peppered hair mixed in with the black, but just on

the sides. Logan said that aging five years every one hundred was not an absolute; there was no

exact science behind it and it varied from family to family.

My knees trembled as he crossed the room. You could feel the power emanating from him like

an aura.

Each male he passed bowed submissively while the women lowered their heads.

“Sire, it is an honor to be in your presence,” Tarek said in a voice thick with admiration.

The Overlord placed his hand on Tarek’s shoulder and the room fell to a hush. “With power

comes great responsibility, young Lord. Use it wisely, and be good to your people.” His citrine eyes

burned like fire as he looked upon me and then Tarek. “One day, your reign of power will end.

Leave a legacy that your family will be honored by, one that will flourish within your Pride and

bring unity. Good evening.”

And just like that, the Overlord and his entourage left the building.

Tarek still held his breath as he whisked me into another room. “Someday, that will be my title,”

he murmured to himself.

If it weren’t for the tight grip he had around my waist, I would have bolted out of the house

and across the thousands of acres of property. A tall man with reddish-blond hair and no suit

jacket politely tipped his head at a woman as he leaned against the fireplace mantel. He held a

regal disposition that few Chitahs did, despite his rugged appearance. A short beard accented his

wide jaw and strong features. He turned and his face lit with a smile, but when his golden eyes

spotted me from across the room, the champagne glass nearly slipped from his hand.

I froze.

“Leo Cross!” Tarek shouted. “It’s good to see you found time away from your new job to come

out this evening.”

I stared at the shoes of Logan’s eldest brother because I couldn’t bring myself to look him in

the eye. Tarek ushered me across the room in his direction.

“I believe you already know Silver. Shame how things worked out between her and Logan; it

must be an embarrassment for you,” Tarek said in a mocking whisper. “She’s a splendid female

and I see why he gave chase. The circumstances in how we met were unfortunate, but we’ve put

all that behind us. I’m sure Logan knows a little bit about that feeling, especially given how they

met. Silver is a forgiving female.”

I was stunned. Nero once hired Logan to kidnap me, but I wasn’t aware it was information that

Tarek could have known about.

“Tarek, may I offer you my congratulations,” Leo said with zero enthusiasm.

While I admired the gold band on his right hand that symbolized he worked for HALO, I felt Leo

watching me as he made the remark.

“You should challenge for Lordship, Leo Cross. Your time is coming soon and this will be your

chance to move into a seat of power. There are many perks that go along with the position,” Tarek

said, tracing his finger along the curve of my shoulder. “It seems that power and money are very

attractive qualities to a female.” When he pinched the back of my arm, I looked up and smiled

cordially.

“Good to see you, Leo,” I said, testing my voice.

“Silver,” he replied softly, almost questioningly. “You are well?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t want it to end the way it did, but we move on.”

After a few brief words, Tarek escorted me into an empty room. As the door closed, he grabbed

me by the throat and backed me against the wall. Christian remained outside the door—forbidden

entry.

“I can smell your fear and I know how nervous you get at these social functions, sweetie.” He

narrowed his eyes when he said the word fear, meaning that doubt was leaking from my pores and

making his fantasy less believable. “It’s just a formality, so play along.” His finger touched the scars

on my neck and trailed down my open neckline. “You look good enough to eat in this dress.”

To add insult to injury, he threw his scent on me. For the last hour of the party, I had to

endure the secretive stares as I paraded through the house that would soon be my new home.

Chapter 14

“Have you at least tried sitting down and talking to Silver?”

Page peppered her baked potato and poked it with her fork. It had taken three full days to get

over the flu, and Justus had dropped in a few times in the days since. First, it was to fix the broken

dryer, then it was changing out her loose doorknobs, and the next thing she knew, he wanted to

upgrade her security system. She’d insisted on paying for the cost because she was left with no

choice as he had already purchased it.

A waitress hurried by and the smell of fresh steak trailed behind her. Page hadn’t had a meal

like this in ages and she wanted to show her appreciation to Justus. It was the least she could do

for someone who’d watched her stomach turn inside out.

Justus appeared to be a closed-off man with no desire to know her on a personal level. She had

to twist his arm to get him to agree to go to dinner. When she decided on the chicken salad,

Justus ordered her a steak and announced he would be collecting the bill.

That infuriated Page, but she decided it wasn’t worth arguing over.

“Silver has no desire to speak to me,” he said. “She sulks.”

“Women do that.” Page smiled. “It’s called the feminine mystique. You’d be surprised how

quickly we open up when someone lends an ear without saying a word. Maybe she thinks you’re

going to criticize her.”

“I don’t criticize.”

Page laughed, tugging at her earlobe. “No, you don’t. Not even when you chewed out the

alarm guy for not setting it up correctly.”

Justus tapped his palm on the bottom of the steak sauce bottle until a few dollops of thick

sauce covered his steak. “He was an amateur.”

“Was that a criticism?” Page smirked, taking a bite of her potato. Panic set in when the potato

burned like fire on her tongue. She fumbled for the glass of ice water and took several long gulps.

Justus froze mid cut; arms held up to the side like two massive weapons as his eyes widened at

her.

“Hot,” she replied, feeling the sting on her tongue. “I better stick with the salad until it cools.

So, Justus De Gradi, tell me about yourself.”

He coughed and looked ready to choke. “I have been a Mage since—”

“No, no, Justus. Tell me about you.” She looked up at his baffled gaze. “You know… you?

What’s your favorite kind of music? What are your hobbies and what’s your favorite dessert? The

things that make you tick; this isn’t an interview about your Mage career, it’s just a little small talk

to pass the time.” She pushed a tomato wedge to the side. Page enjoyed light conversation; it put

her clients at ease.

The waitress hurried by and abruptly slammed on the brakes mid-step. Her head slowly turned

and she devoured Justus with her hazel eyes, lids sparkling with purple shadow. She leaned over

his side of the table and softened her voice. “Could I refill your wine? You know, one steak isn’t

going to hold a man your size over,” she said, tracing her finger around the waistline of her skirt.

“You look like the kind of guy with a voracious appetite.”

Page lowered her eyes to her plate. Technically, this wasn’t a date, so she didn’t meddle.

Crunching on a red pepper, she wondered why a restaurant salad always tasted better than the

ones she made at home. No wonder she ate out all the time.

“What if I brought you another juicy steak?” The waitress whispered the last part, because

clearly doing him a culinary favor would earn her the right to mount him.

Page wanted to laugh but kept an indifferent expression.

A piece of lettuce flipped off her fork and stuck to her bottom lip. She glanced up and jumped

with fright. Justus sat with his fingers laced together and his chin resting on his knuckles—

watching her as if the waitress didn’t exist. Page quickly wiped her mouth with a napkin.

The waitress was a persistent little tart with her noxious perfume and heavy eye shadow. She

leaned over so far he could have sampled her wares with his mouth.

“No, thank you.” He dismissed her, retaining eye contact with Page. His eyes were hypnotic up

close, and she could see why all the women were at the mercy of his gaze. “Would you enjoy some

dessert, Page? I can arrange for them to prepare whatever you want.”

“Um, no I’m not in the mood for anything sweet. I haven’t even started my meal.”

“Well, if you need anything, I’ll be back to check on you,” the waitress said. She was young,

curvy in all the right places, and clinging to Justus as if he were a lifeboat on the Titanic. When he

didn’t respond, she clicked her heels on the wooden floor and made a memorable exit.

He leaned back and the chair creaked. Since the restaurant wasn’t fine dining, there was no

need for formal attire. Page wore her favorite jeans with a black V-neck sweater. After he’d seen

her at her worst, she made an effort to style her razor-cut hair and wear her favorite perfume.

Nothing fancy, just a bottle she’d picked up for ten dollars at the grocery store, but it smelled fresh

and clean. Page had sprung the invitation on him and since he was at her house, Justus had to go

with the clothes on his back. So he sat across from her in black jeans and a white undershirt with a

dark blue button-up over it. He’d undone most of the buttons, and she preferred that look to the

expensive duds he normally wore. If he had hair, she would have mussed it up.

Justus was clearly a man who liked to be admired. Who could blame him? If he spent that

much effort toning up, then he deserved the admiration that fell on him from women.

Page had no time to indulge in the whimsical fantasies of a single woman. Some days she was

lucky if she even ran a comb through her hair, which was why she kept a short, choppy style.

“So, tell me something about yourself,” she pressed.

“Why do you want to know about me, Page?”

Her toes curled at the buttery texture of his voice.

“Why are you evading my questions? I didn’t realize getting to know the real Justus was top-