A Legacy of the Damned: Daughter of Astaroth

Chapter 38 - Sunday Night Company

"Have a seat, Alistair. Make yourself at home, why don't you, Alistair?" I drawl after he makes himself comfortable on a lounger next to me without being invited.

His lips quirk up at my sarcasm. He gives the view around us a slow sweep of his gaze and whistles. "Sweet," he says, settling his gaze back on me. "Gauthier really does get the best of everything, doesn't he?" Is that a hint of envy I detect in his voice? Before I can answer, he reaches out for my lemonade and promptly takes a sip as though he has all the right in the world.

"Oh, sure, help yourself to my drink, Alistair. Why not?" I tug my sunglasses down a bit to glare at him from the top of the frame.

He chuckles. "I like you," he says as though he just came to that conclusion. Then he gulps down more of my lemonade. "Ummm...good lemonade. Damn, even the lemonade tastes better here."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, push the glasses back up the bridge of my nose and stare at him from behind the dark lenses. Typical of Leviathan and his offsprings. Always desiring what belongs to others. Envying and wanting what's not his to take.

"What do you want, Alistair? Sacha's not here."

"Oh, I know he's not here." He flashes me a charming grin. "But I'm not here to see him."

I lie back but drum my fingers on the handrest as I watch him stretches out on the lounger with his hands behind his head as though he has all the time in the world.

He might be pretty to look at, but he doesn't stir any feelings in me like Sacha does. He's the kind of guy I could sleep with but leave without a backward glance, all forgotten the very next day. In fact, I've done that so many times before, it's getting old. It's cold, meaningless, and underwhelming, especially now after what I've experienced with Sacha.

"If you want to get in my pants, forget it. I'm not interested," I tell him.

He chuckles and closes his eyes.

I grit my teeth as I wait him out. My mind is going fifty miles an hour, thinking.

"You're one of Astaroth's princess," he says, finally. "What are you doing with the king of Nephilims?"

"Why not?" I return. I'm not planning to tell him anything. I don't see any benefit in it for me. I do, however, have a lot of questions for him.

With his eyelids still closed, he says, "I've known Sacha since Harvard, so have Olivier and Jade. Sacha isn't one to commit to any woman. Meaningless flings, yes. But he's never been in a relationship for as long as I know him. Not once. Women throw themselves at him but he's always a cold bastard. Don't get me wrong, he never promised them anything. In fact, he told them right off the bat that he's not looking for a commitment, but that didn't stop them from falling for him or clinging to him. True to his words though, once he's through, no matter how brief it was, he never looked back."

"Why are you telling me this?" I ask him. I'm a bit testy and wary of Sacha's friends after being told off by Olivier a couple of weeks ago and then Jade just a few hours ago.

"I'm just trying to figure you two out," he replies. "He's never possessive of any woman, but he seemed rather possessive of you the other day."

Sacha seemed possessive so he's here sniffing? I shrug and he opens his pale blue eyes to watch me. "You're reading too much into things," I tell him offhandedly.

"Nah, he warned me off you and that had never happened with other women," he observes. "He certainly never brought any woman into his sanctuary, so imagine our surprise to see him playing house with you, a half...Asta Saint's daughter, of all women." His eyes flicker up to stare at Molly who is still lingering just inside the open door, looking anxious. The guard is also standing by the door, staring straight ahead but very alert.