Page 46 of Venomous Games

“How did you get so lucky?” she asks, then looks back to Maven. “Let’s go get some drinks. We need it to deal with all of these men’s egos.” Maven pulls from my grip, then saunters off to the bar with Lilith, not looking back.

“My wife is smiling,” Reon states as he sidles up next to me.

“That’s because she just met someone as crazy as she is,” I tell him, and we both watch as the two women reach the bar. Maven laughs at something Lilith says while they order a drink. They turn to face us, and Lilith waves to her husband, but Maven flips me off.

Romantic.

“Married.” Reon muses, looking down at the ring on my finger. “For how long?”

“Since yesterday.”

“I can’t judge considering I made my wife marry me without her knowledge,” he says, then makes a beeline for Lilith. His arm slides around her waist, and she leans into his touch. He offers his other hand to Maven, and she takes it, a smile on her lips.

One she never shares with me.

They talk for a little bit.

Maven finishes her drink before she turns and looks back at me. Her eyes narrow and she reaches into her purse, pulls out a lip gloss, then starts to apply it to lips curved in a devious smile.

TWENTY-FIVE

MAVEN

Lilith is … interesting.

I can understand why Boston said I would like her. She takes absolutely no shit from anyone it seems, and her husband is obsessed with her. He literally can’t keep his hands off of her.

“How much do you know about tonight and what this event is about?” Lilith asks me.

Reon leans down and whispers something in her ear, and she pushes him away. “Shut up. What are they going to do, put me back in the hunt?” She laughs.

I tense at her words, and she notices. I’ve heard something about the hunt before.

“You know what the hunt is?” she asks, to which I shake my head.

“Lilith.” I hear Boston’s voice behind me before I sense him at my back.

“What is it?” I ask her.

Reon leans down again and whispers something else.

“Oh, nothing. I was talking shit. Excuse me while I go and talk to my husband about telling me what I can share and what I cannot.” She pulls at her husband, leaving me standing with Boston. I turn toward the bar, ignoring him as I reach for a drink and then shoot it back.

“You should stop drinking,” he says.

“Why? Embarrassed by me?” I turn to look at him.

“No, not at all. But your liver may need a break.”

“Or maybe it’s you I need the break from. Have you thought of that?”

“Boston,” someone says. “I heard you got married.” I turn to find an impeccably dressed man with black hair, and what appears to be rosary beads wrapped around one of his hands. “Hi, I’m Arlo. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He holds out the hand that doesn’t have beads, and I shake it. “Have you known Boston for long?” he asks me, ignoring Boston.

“No. Well, honestly, I guess you could say long enough that he likes to break into my apartment, handcuff me to the bed, and remove my clothes with a kitchen knife,” I say, to which someone behind me starts coughing.

“He’s interested, it would seem,” Arlo says.

“If you say so.” I smile at him.