Page 107 of Red Masquerade

“Flora, this is Veronica,” I said, suddenly feeling out of my element. “And this is… Vince.”

To my surprise, Flora didn’t react to the change in name, only crossed her arms and quirked a brow at the man she used to know as Adam. She sized him up. And he let her look her fill, her eyes landing on the glinting Rolex at his wrist, the golden cufflinks,the pinstripes on his pants, the dark, expensive suit jacket laying on the couch.

“You look different,” she said simply.

He blinked.

Flora turned to me. “Doesn’t he?”

“I—”

“And you look marvelous, as always,” he said, letting the charm seep into his voice. Sending me back in time, to the first moment he’d met her at one of our lunches, before dragging me into an alley and ravishing my neck with his lips. “It’s like you haven’t aged a day.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide the flattered smile that pulled at her lips. “Don’t trytoohard,” she said.

“Can we help you with something?” Veronica spoke up, pressing her lips into a thin smile. Her dark eyes gleamed with annoyance, and it was an odd feeling being on the receiving end of her ire. If Vince and Sinclair and Séra tamped down their preternaturalness in an attempt to play human, Veronica felt no need. Her shiny black hair was cut in a sharp bob, her high cheekbones and shadowed eyes giving her the appearance of a statue. “We were in the middle of something.”

I turned to Vince. “Did you see what Lucas said? In the paper—”

“This?” Veronica grabbed one of the many newsprints on the table and handed it to me. “We discussed it earlier,” she said, giving Vince a pointed look.

I grabbed it from her, the delicate print crinkling in my fingers, the ink greasy against my fingertips.

REWARD FOR FOUND SOCIALITE.

Lucas Quintrell, owner of the Quintrell Company, is announcing a One-Million-Dollar Reward for the return of his sister, Helena Quintrell, who has gone missing after leaving the city to visit family. Quintrell says that his sister is likely somewhere in the state, and any information as to her whereabouts will also be rewarded.

It was a warning, more than anything. That I had to watch my back, that hewouldget his hands on me again.

He knew I would see it. It was like he was talking directly to me.

“And?”

I felt panic rise in me, but glancing at Vince, he seemed unbothered.

He shrugged. “What of it?”

“Were you not going to say something?”

“You saw the paper, did you not?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “And what did you twodiscuss?” Glancing at Veronica.

He only grinned at my frustration, at the hint of fear creeping into my voice. I was trying to keep it together, to not worry about my brother, but being kept in the dark about what concernedmedidn’t bode well. Vince reached for me, a placating smile pulling at his lips. “So angry,” he said, amused. “I like it when there’s fire in you.”

“I’m being serious.”

Veronica sighed. “Perhaps we should leave you two to talk?”

“Perhaps that would be best—” I began, but Vince waved her off. “What’s there to talk about?”

“What’s there to talk about?” I shook the paper at him. “There’s a manhunt for me!”

He again didn’t seem to understand. But some realization dawned on him and he laughed. “Are you afraid you’ll be found?”

As though the notion were ridiculous.

He shook his head to himself, leaning in closer to me. “You won’t be found,” he nearly purred. “Not if I don’t want you to be.”