Kiss of Midnight_ A Midnight Breed Novel - Lara Adrian [346]
The indigo dress she wore hugged her petite figure in all the right places, an architectural wonder of crisscrossing silk layers and flowing, filmy skirts. Her bare shoulders and short blond hair accentuated the graceful line of her throat, which drew Tegan’s eye like a beacon. Her pulse ticked frantically below her ear, a beat that echoed in his own veins, even now that she was gone from view.
Damn, he needed to feed.
The sooner the better.
Garbed in combat gear, Tegan headed straight for the mansion’s front vestibule, eager to get the fuck out of the place. He strode past the wide-open double doors of the grand ballroom, ignoring the soaring whine of the string quartet and the chaotic buzz of the many conversations underway inside the reception.
He tried to ignore the sight of Elise on Reichen’s arm as the suave German brought her before the crowd of their peers. She looked so elegant and refined amid the glitter of the gathering, fitting in perfectly with the Darkhavens’ elite.
This was her world; there could be no mistaking that fact now that he saw her enveloped within it. She belonged here, and his place was out on the streets, staining his hands with the blood of his enemies.
Yeah, he thought, feeling a surge of anger run through him. He belonged anywhere but here.
As she strolled farther into the ballroom on Reichen’s arm, Elise scanned the crowd of fifty or more, recognizing several faces from events she’d attended with Quentin in the past. Everyone was staring at her—had been since the instant she entered the room. Conversations paused, heads turned. The string quartet played on near the other side of the room, falling into a soft whisper of music as Andreas Reichen presented her to the gathering.
He introduced her to one person after another, a dizzying line of names and faces that eventually began to blur together in her mind. She accepted the offers of condolence for Quentin’s passing and listened with not a little pride as many of the area’s Enforcement Agency representatives recounted their dealings with her respected mate. More than one person asked about the nature of her business in Berlin, but she dodged the questions as artfully as she could. It didn’t seem prudent to discuss the Order’s business in such a public arena, and it would be next to impossible to mention her association with the warriors without explaining how she’d come to know them in the first place.
How shocked and appalled would these politic Darkhaven males be to learn that she had been out on Boston’s streets hunting Minions just a few days before?
Some rebellious part of her almost wished she could blurt that truth out, if only to watch the stuffy civilians balk. Instead, Elise merely sipped the wine Reichen had fetched for her soon after they arrived, her attention only partially focused on the Enforcement Agent who had been bending her ear for about fifteen minutes straight.
Looking slightly down his aquiline nose at her, the imposing blond vampire was quick to impress upon her how he had served the Agency most of his life—racking up more than a hundred years of self-aggrandizing war stories that he seemed compelled to describe to her in great detail. She nodded along and smiled at the appropriate moments, wondering how long it would take her to hit the bottom of her wineglass.
About three seconds, she decided, casually draining the last of the fine French wine.
“Your years of service are commendable, Agent Waldemar,” she said, already extricating herself from the conversation. “Will you excuse me, please? I’m afraid this wine has gone straight to my head.”
The arrogant agent sputtered something about the fact that she hadn’t yet heard about the time he required a full twenty stitches after a run-in with a Rogue outside Tiergarten, but Elise just gave him a polite smile as she slipped into the thickest knot of the crowd.
In the middle of the perfumed, silk-clad bodies, a female hand reached out to clasp her own. “Elise? Oh, my goodness,