“Aric?” Carys Chase rushed through the unmoving crowds, panic in her normally calm voice. Dressed as elegantly as Jordana and the other women, she gaped at her brother as she charged forward to meet him on strappy sandals that echoed the geometric cut of her curve-hugging copper silk gown. “What are you doing here? What’s wrong?”
While Jordana’s beauty was diamond bright and icy fair, Carys Chase was earth and fire combined. Her eyes simmered with a fierce intelligence, and her caramel blond mane of hair swung around her face and shoulders like liquid bronze.
Of course, the differences between the two females went beyond the physical.
Where Jordana Gates was a Breedmate, half human in addition to the other, more elusive genetics that made her different from her mundane Homo sapiens cousins, Carys Chase was something rarer still. She was Breed, and a daywalker at that.
The same as her twin brother.
“Aric, are you okay?” she asked him, reaching up to touch his rigid jaw. She glanced at him then, studying him in a quick instant. Her shrewd eyes narrowed. “Where have you been tonight? Why is your shirt torn?”
“We need to talk,” Aric snapped at her.
Carys blinked. “Now? Can’t you see I’m in the middle of some—”
“Now,” he snarled, finally breaking out of Nathan’s grasp to grab hold of his sister’s arm. “This is f**king serious, Car. I’m not gonna let it wait.”
He tried to maneuver her away from the onlookers, but Carys dug in her five-inch heels and stood her ground in front of him. “Have you lost your mind? Let go of my arm.” She wrenched loose, outrage sparking in her eyes. When she spoke, Nathan glimpsed the tips of her emerging fangs. “For God’s sake, Aric. You’re embarrassing me.”
Across the room, Jordana started to move away from the others, toward her distressed friend. She was prevented from getting any closer by a man who stepped up behind her now. He was Breed, tall and attractive, with clear blue eyes and golden hair.
One of the shiny people who belonged in this place.
The male’s hand came to rest protectively—possessively—at Jordana’s waist as he gathered her to him, subtly holding her in place. As if she belonged with the man.
Nathan observed this with cool logic and understanding, even if his blood spiked with an unwelcome jolt of disdain for the male who touched Jordana like he owned her.
He stared at her, watched her cheeks flame a little redder under his scrutiny before she abruptly glanced down and refused to look at him again.
Was this the source of her nervousness in front of Nathan tonight?
Not merely Nathan’s presence tonight, but his presence when she was in the company of someone else.
This man, whose hand had drifted from her small waist down to the tempting swell of her hip, fingers idly caressing her even as he retrieved a comm device from his tuxedo jacket pocket and held it at the ready to make a call.
Jordana’s gaze never lifted, not even as the conflict rose to troubling heights between Aric Chase and his sister.
“He’s using you, Carys. Can’t you see that? Trash like that will only hurt you in the end.”
She scoffed, exhaled a curse under her breath. “What are you talking about?”
“Rune.” Aric practically spat the name at her. “You need to end it now. Before it goes any further with him. Before I have to kill the bastard for thinking he can touch you.”
“You don’t know anything about Rune and me.” She glared, fury igniting in her pretty face. “And you have no right to interfere—”
Aric cut her off with a harsh snarl. “I’m your brother—your twin, Carys. And I love you. That gives me every right.”
She slowly shook her head, glancing around at the silent spectators who made no effort to hide their rapt interest in the night’s other, unplanned exhibit. When Carys looked back at Aric, her pupils had transformed from dilated circles to thinning, vertical slits. Although she projected total outward calm, Nathan and every other vampire in the place could plainly see the Breed female was furious.
Carys’s voice was quiet, but as she spoke, her long fangs glinted razor-sharp and lethal in the low lights of the museum reception. “Go home, Aric. For now, I’ll forgive you because you claim you’re doing this out of love for me. But this conversation is over.”
The man at Jordana’s side cleared his throat, an awkward interruption, and late as well. “Shall I call JUSTIS for assistance here, Carys?”
“No. That won’t be necessary, Elliott,” she replied coolly. “My brother and his friends are leaving now.”
Rafe stepped up beside Aric to take his other shoulder in a firm grasp. The two warriors were as tight as brothers, just like their fathers before them, Dante Malebranche and Sterling Chase, both long-standing members of the Order. When Aric didn’t budge, Rafe cuffed him none too gently on the biceps. “Come on, man. This is messed up and you know it. Let’s get out of here.”
Aric relaxed but kept his hard glare trained on his sister. “End it, Carys. Don’t make me do it for you.”
She stared at him, wounded but unbowed. “If you so much as try, then I’ll no longer have a brother.”
The siblings faced off in tense silence, neither of them willing to bend to the other. Having watched the twins grow up within the extended family of the Order, Nathan had seen them lock horns on many occasions, but never like this. Their bond as brother and sister had always been iron strong and unbreakable, no matter how powerfully they clashed.