Apprentice (The Gentlemens' Society for Alchemy, #1)

Chapter 8 - Madness

"Whoa," Cora breathes.

"Whoa is right," I say. I spot Roman then, not that I could have missed him - he's up on a glass staircase that circles down into the room in long, delicate twirls. The music increases in tempo and the partiers start to swarm to the dance floor.

I stand there for a moment, taking in the sight of him while he's not watching me look. In his usual expertly groomed fashion, he's wearing a trim, artfully tailored black tuxedo with a skinny black tie, his thick, luscious brown hair styled in that sexy, finger tousled way that only a man like him could pull off. His sharp cheekbones pull back easily as he smiles, showing off the perfect angles of his face - and his tux fits his powerful body like a glove. The broad, heavy shoulders narrow into a firm waist that I have no doubt is corded with thick muscle. Ezra Roman stands like a man completely at ease with his body. Asshole or not, he is an impressive creature.

He takes a sip of his drink, laughing. I spot the same gold ring on his fourth finger that he'd been wearing in the library.

I notice then, that a tall, reedy blonde in a tight black dress (if you could call one square yard of material a dress) is hanging on his arm, her fingers carelessly draped along his shoulder.Of course his date is a fucking Barbie.

He isn't paying attention to her, though. At the moment his attention is focused on a white haired man who is animatedly telling him a story. His brilliant smile is warm and conspiratorial - like there's no one else in the world. When he turns the charm all the way up like that, it's hard to look away. It's enough to make you do anything he asks of you. 

It's no wonder he has so many followers, so many people who love him, I think, frowning. His Barbie is practically drooling over his every word.

Suddenly, he turns his blaring gaze on me from across the room, his arresting hazel irises meeting mine head on. I jump, startled by their intensity, but I watch him carefully as his eyes roam over the breadth of my dress, starting at the floor, pausing over my hips and breasts, and then landing on my frown. He looks... interested.

I hold his stare, glaring back. I'm here. I'm in a fucking dress. Now what the hell do you want?

His mouth twitches. Then he turns back to the white haired man, resuming his conversation like he never looked my way.

He's probably a serial killer.

I turn to Cora accusingly, ready to rage, but she's gone.

Just wonderful. I should have known that I couldn't bring her to a party like this and expect her to stay put. She's probably convincing some old millionaire to move her into his apartment in Bali by now. She could do it, too, knowing Cora's powers of persuasion. 

Someone bumps into me from behind, elbowing me in the hip, and I whip around to demand answers, but they're already gone. The party is more crowded than ever and the thumping dance music is making me feel lightheaded. I would almost rather be at dinner with Em and Dad. Almost. My stomach clenches at the thought of our fight this afternoon though, and I have to shake off the hollow shiver of dread that fills my stomach at the thought of how angry she looked.

With coupled pairs dancing far practically on top of me, wandering around to look for Cora seems pointless - so I push my way to the bar and order a gin and tonic with a twist of lime. I turn again to look at Roman, who has since made his way down the stairs with his Barbie and is now mingling with the guests.

He hasn't looked back in my direction once, but I'm not worried about him. There will be plenty of time to drill him about the Medical Examiner's tape later. After he's had plenty of cocktails, and hopefully, somewhere more private.