The Glass Ballerina Who Danced On Knives

Scones

Nash had long legs, so a lazy amble on his part required me to jog to keep up. I looked in each room as we passed, but they were all a blur of art and architecture and natural light. At the end of a long hall, Nash threw open a door. I prepared myself to see evidence of a brawl. Instead, I saw Grayson and Jameson standing on opposite sides of a library that took my breath away. The room was circular. Shelves stretched up fifteen or twenty feet overhead, and every single one was lined completely with hardcover books. The shelves were made of a deep, rich wood. Spread across the room, four wrought-iron staircases spiraled toward the upper shelves, like the points on a compass. In the library's center, there was a massive tree stump, easily ten feet across. Even from a distance, I could see the rings marking the tree's age.It took me a moment to realize that it was meant to be used as a desk.I could stay here forever, I thought. I could stay in this room forever and never leave.

"So," Nash said beside me, casually eyeing his brothers. "Whose ass do I need to kick first?"

Grayson looked up from the book he was holding. "Must we always resort to fisticuffs ?"

"Looks like I have a volunteer for the first ass-kicking," Nash said, then shot a measuring look at Jameson, who was leaning against one of the wrought-iron staircases. "Do I have a second?"

Jameson smirked. "Couldn't stay away, could you, big brother?"

"And leave Avery here with you knuckleheads?" Until Nash mentioned my name, neither of the other two seemed to have registered my presence behind him, but I felt my invisibility slip away, just like that.

"I wouldn't worry too much about Ms. Grambs," Grayson said, silver eyes sharp. "She's clearly capable of taking care of herself." Translation: I'm a soulless, gold-digging con artist, and he sees straight through me.

"Don't pay any attention to Gray," Jameson told me lazily. "None of us do."

"Jamie," Nash said. "Zip it." Jameson ignored him. "Grayson is in training for the Insufferable Olympics, and we really think he can go all the way if he can just jam that stick a little farther up his—"

Asterisk, I thought, channeling Max.

"Enough," Nash grunted."

What did we miss?" Xander bounded through the doorway. He was wearing a private school uniform, complete with a blazer that he shed in one liquid motion. Following him was Trinity, also wearing a uniform, but on her it looked... right. She had clipped a gold chain with "Chanel" spelled out in charms in the belt loops, and was wearing Dior logo tights under her skirt. I caught sight of the underside of her heels-red. Louboutins.

"You haven't missed anything at all," Grayson told him. "And Ms. Grambs was just leaving." He flicked his gaze toward me. "I'm sure you want to get settled." I was the billionaire now, and he was still giving orders.

"Wait a second." Xander frowned suddenly, taking in the state of the room."Were you guys brawling in here without me?" I still saw no visible signs of a fight or destruction, but obviously, Xander had picked up on something I hadn't. "This is what I get for being the one who doesn't skip school," he said mournfully. At the mention of school, Nash looked from Xander to Jameson.

"No uniform," he noted. "Playing hooky, Jamie? Two ass-kickings it is." Xander heard the phrase ass-kicking, grinned, bounced to the balls of his feet,and pounced with no warning, tackling Nash to the ground. Just some friendly impromptu wrestling between brothers. "Pinned you!" Xander declared triumphantly.Nash hooked his ankle around Xander's leg and flipped him, pinning him to the ground. "Not today, little brother." Nash grinned, then flashed a much darker look at the other two brothers. "Not today."