Page 61 of Bad Girl
Simple fare. Steak tartare, roasted vegetables, chicken. And of course her dessert.
“You need to find out which variety of potatoes those were,” she said.“They seemed to melt in my mouth.”
“I’ll find out from the kitchen and let you know.” I paused.“Perhaps if you gave me your number?”
She smiled, toying with the napkin.
“Smooth.”
“Why thank you.”
“I didn’t say it was a compliment, Mr Gallagher,” she said, turning to face me.
My eyes dropped to her lips. Most of the gloss was gone. The pink stain on those bow-shaped lips still remained and I tightened my hand around my glass before it could make any decisions of its own. This was not something I could rush. Not with the bond question still unanswered. Not with the risk of her rejecting it and leaving all four of us fractured beyond repair.
The doorbell chimed.
I cleared my throat and looked away from temptation.
My heart dropped when I heard Cuán’s voice in the hallway.
“Sorry, old boy. I just needed a cup of sugar.”
He didn’t take sugar. He had never taken sugar in his entire adult life.
“Excuse me for one moment,” I said, standing.
But Nika wasn’t looking at me. She had gone very still, nostrils flared, her body doing what it did before her mind caught up—reading the air, reading the scent, reading the thing that was wrong about it.
“It’s just my—”
“Well, hello,” Cuán said, poking his head past the door.
He pushed it open and stepped inside with the complete absence of self-preservation that had characterised him for thirty-six years.
Nika stood. Her head moved between us. I watched the moment the panic hit—the rapid back and forth, the second inhale, the dawning realisation written across her face.
“What the hell,” she whispered.“There are two of you.”
“I’m Cuán Gallagher,” my dim-witted brother began.
He stepped toward her before I could stop him. I raised my arm but it was already too late.
The sound of fabric straining and tearing cut through the room.
And there she was.
Larger than life and entirely herself—the grey curling around her snout as she snarled, lips pulled back over teeth that had already done damage once and knew it. The rest of her coat was sleek and healthy, sable and thick, shifting through brown and grey and black depending on how the light caught it. Silver eyes bled to pale blue. Her ears were flat. Her weight was forward.
She was extraordinary.
“He’s my twin brother,” I said.
Her head snapped toward me. She showed me her teeth.
I felt the shift rise in my chest and forced it back down. I shrugged my jacket off and let it fall.
“I see you two need some time alone—to work things out.” Cuán was already backing toward the door with his hands slightly raised, the first sensible thing he’d done since arriving.“I’ll see myself out. Nice meeting you, Nika.”
