Page 123 of Eternal Devotion

“Who’s the handsome devil beside him?”

I assumed the man was Cristofer, and a twist of jealousy knotted my gut. Handsome devil was an understatement. Christ. Were all vampires unfairly gorgeous? If so, Mordecai had failed to mention that perk.

The two waved, grinning like they were having the time of their lives.

I waved back and motioned for them to come up. Cristofer puckered his lips, kissed a rock he held pinched between his fingers, aimed, and launched it at the window. I flinched when it hit the glass near my head.

Mars chuckled. “Seriously, what are they doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Here’s a thought. Go drag them up here so we can finish this freaking game.” Poet’s temper rarely frayed. “I swear, if I don’t sleep tonight, I’ll be jobless, and no amount of apology brownies will save any of you.”

“Oh-oh, Poet’s getting feisty.” Mars slapped me on the back. “Run down and drag them up here before he snaps for real.”

Why on earth were they standing outside in the cold throwing rocks anyway? Poet was right. We had a game to finish.

I raced down the stairwell and thrust open the door at the bottom. The November chill hit me in the face and cut through my thin shirt as I peered into the street at a pair of smug vampires.

“You know, for two guys in their hundreds, you’re acting awfully juvenile. Are you quite finished?”

“Ah, Sir Ensley. We meet at last.” Cristofer performed a stately bow that made Mordecai roll his eyes. “You, good sir, have been the topic of many conversations.”

“Yeeeah… okay. Lovely to meet you, too. Now come inside and try not to make a scene. The game is almost finished.”

With what seemed a healthy dose of self-satisfaction, Cristofer elbowed Mordecai. “See? Piece of cake. What did I tell you?”

“Your ingenuity knows no bounds.”

“No need for sarcasm, duckie.”

“Just go, and tone it down. We don’t want everyone figuring us out.” Mordecai shoved Cristofer toward the door while offering me an apologetic smile.

Before heading up, Cristofer paused and studied me. He had the same liquid Bordeaux-colored eyes as Mordecai that sucked you in and held you captive. Although a slight shade darker, they sparkled with mischief under the streetlight. Like my boyfriend, Cristofer had paired elegant black trousers with a fashionable buttoned shirt. The cut suggested wealth, as did his glossy footwear and designer wool coat—also black—that hung to mid-thigh. Fine leather gloves finished the outfit.

Cristofer had similarly pale skin and scarlet lips, but in contrast to Mordecai’s moon-licked blond hair, Cristofer’s was the color of midnight. His groomed and expressive brows spoke of confidence. Of fearless domination.

Of seduction.

Were they all like this? Sharply dressed? Handsome? Alluring? Spellbinding?

“Aren’t you a doll,” Cristofer cooed, licking his lips. “The elusive Ensley. You’re right. He’s awfully pretty. I see the appeal. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Morty Boy. I wouldn’t have been able to walk away either.”

“You’re insufferable,” Mordecai mumbled. “And don’t call me that.”

I offered my hand. “The famous Cristofer. We finally meet.”

“Famous? Is that what he called me?” Cristofer grinned at Mordecai.

“I assure you, I didn’t. Stop flirting with my boyfriend.”

Amused by Mordecai’s irritation and curious about Cristofer in general, I led them upstairs and into the apartment. The guys were gathered around the table, waiting for me so we could play the final boss room.

“About time,” Poet muttered, still scrutinizing his notes.

“Quick introductions first, and we can finish. Everyone, this is Mordecai’s friend Cristofer from… somewhere overseas?” I glanced at Cristofer for clarification.

“Precisely. Not sure I can narrow it down better than that, mate.”