D. Reynolds - Aden

“Why throw in with Silas, though?”

“Silas was his commanding officer back in the day. Good with a blade.”

“Silas or Stig?”

“Both, actually, but I was thinking of Stig.”

“Maybe he should have gone with his strengths then. His people came out firing MP5s.”

“Stupid. Oh well, onward and upward. Stay alive, my friend. The real battle is ahead of us.”

“I plan on it, my lord.”

Aden tucked the phone back in his pocket thoughtfully. “Bastien, I’d like confirmation of Silas’s involvement in this as soon as possible. I need to know if there’s another player out there. If someone has enough cunning to use Stig against both of us, I need to know who it is before we end up as dead as Stig.”

“DO WEAR SOMETHING more suitable, Ms. Reid,” Sidonie simpered, mocking Aden’s parting words to her. She lowered her voice to better replicate the vampire’s rumbling bass for the rest of it. “I’m rather fond of redheads.” She frowned, wondering what the hell he’d meant by that last remark, her suspicious nature not letting her believe he’d simply been admiring her coloring.

Her frown deepened as she stared at the full-length mirror. Or not so much at the mirror, which was an antique and rather lovely, but at her own reflection which was . . . not. Her hair wasn’t having a good day, flying everywhere, and she had circles under her eyes thanks to several weeks of night-owling with vampires. She wasn’t exactly a morning person normally, more of a midday person, preferring to stay up late and sleep late. But there was a big difference between staying up late and staying up all damn night.

Not that she cared about her sleep-deprived looks, or not overmuch, anyway. Her blood would taste the same whether she was tired or not. Her scowl was aimed at the scooped neckline of the sweater she’d chosen for the evening. She wanted to seduce Aden, the overbearing jerk, but she didn’t want to hang out an all-you-can-eat sign. Still, she’d chosen the sweater with seduction in mind, and it did fit perfectly. It accented the figure she worked hard to maintain, and the burnt-gold color brought out the copper highlights in her hair. Also, being cashmere, it wouldn’t shed all over her black wool slacks. It was just that neckline.

Her phone rang, and she spun away from the mirror, grabbing it and checking caller ID, frowning when it wasn’t the call she was waiting for. She answered anyway.

“Hi, Will,” she said.

“Hey, Sid. Let’s do dinner tomorrow.”

“You’ll be in town?” she asked, ignoring the obvious that, of course, he’d be in town, or why else would he be asking her to dinner?

“Driving up in the morning, staying until Saturday,” Will said cheerfully. He didn’t even call her on the stupid question, but then he wouldn’t. William W. Englehart was a genuinely nice guy. The guy her parents assumed would be her husband someday. Once upon a time, Sid had thought so, too. He was handsome and charming and had outstanding career prospects. He was a considerate lover and an excellent dinner companion. All the checkmarks were in the right column on the perfect boyfriend list.

There was only one thing missing. Passion. Sid didn’t love him. At least, not that way.

“I’m not sure about dinner,” she told him now. “I’m doing a lot of work at night. How about lunch on Wednesday instead?”

“Still doing the big story?” From someone else, the question might have sounded mocking, but not from Will.

“Yeah. I’m making progress, though.”

“Good for you. It’s a date. Lunch Wednesday, and maybe I’ll talk you into dinner later.”

That was the other thing about Will. He didn’t love her that way either, but he was more than willing to marry her, because he agreed with their parents. They would be an excellent match, and he bought into the whole dynastic marriage idea. In her more depressing moments, she sometimes envisioned their future together, with each of them discreetly finding the passion they desired outside their marriage, and neither one caring as long as the only children—and, of course, there would be children—were unquestionably from the marital bed.

Sid sighed. “Call me Wednesday morning. We’ll set a place and time,” she told him. Her phone beeped an incoming call. She checked the ID. At last, she thought to herself, and tried to keep the relief out of her voice when she told Will, “I’ve got to get that. I’ll see you then, okay?”

“Righto. See you then.”

Righto. That was Will in a nutshell.

Shoving aside all thoughts of Will and their parents’ plans for a wedding, she clicked over to Professor Dresner’s incoming call. She’d phoned the professor hours ago, hoping to get tips on how best to go about getting what she wanted from Aden tonight. She’d all but given up on getting a call back in time for her meeting with the big vampire.

“Professor Dresner,” she answered the phone. “Thanks for calling back.”

“I’m so sorry, Sidonie. I was at a wedding. They actually made an announcement before the ceremony, asking everyone to turn off their phones. Just like they do in the movies, although the wedding was far less entertaining, unfortunately. But what can I do for you?”

“I met Aden last night,” she said excitedly. “He’s one of those you told me about, right? The ones you think are most likely to win the entire challenge?”

“Aden, yes. He’s one of half a dozen, but certainly in the running. So you met him?”

Sid nodded in her excitement. “We didn’t have time to do much more than exchange numbers, but he’s invited me to meet him at his office tonight. And that’s why I called you. I need to know the best approach. Do I seduce him? Or go for a business approach? And what about clothes? I’m afraid if I show too much skin, he won’t take me seriously. But if—”

“Sid, Sid,” Dresner said, laughing. “You’ve overthinking this. First, I need to know how serious you are. How far are you willing to go?”

“I’ll do what it takes,” Sid said determinedly.

“All right, then. You need to go all in and dress for seduction. You have to understand that the only thing most vampires want or need from humans is blood. And that’s doubly true for the really powerful ones, many of whom are so distanced from their human roots that they barely see us as sentient anymore.”

Sid groaned.

“I did warn you about what might be necessary when you first set out on this path.”

“I know,” Sid sighed. “And don’t worry. I’ll do what it takes. I might hate it, but I’ll do it.”

“That’s the spirit. I’m sorry, Sid, but if there’s nothing else, my feet are killing me, and there’s a hot bath calling my name.”

“Oh, of course. Thank you so much for calling back and for the advice. I really do appreciate your time.”

“I don’t mind at all. This is one of the more interesting things I’ve done lately. Academics isn’t all excitement and adventure, you know.”

Sid laughed dutifully, though she had no idea what the woman meant by that. Was she suggesting that academics sometimes was exciting? That didn’t seem likely, especially in sociology, but it took all kinds, she supposed.

“Okay,” Sid said, avoiding the whole excitement issue. “Enjoy your bath, and I’ll let you know how it turns out.”

She tossed the phone onto the bed, then turned to face the reality staring back at her from the mirror. Was her outfit sexy enough? Damn. She stepped out of her heels and unzipped the wool slacks, then stomped over to her closet, thinking all the while that she must be certifiable. It was fucking freezing outside, and here she was trading in her tights and wool slacks for silk stockings and a skirt.

She cursed as she smoothed the tight skirt over her hips, wishing her target could have been anyone but a vampire. She had to admit that the skirt looked better, though. And, in any other context, the sweater would have been considered modest. There was no cleavage. It was only her neck that was on full display. But then she was seducing a vampire, and if she wanted Aden’s cooperation, she was going to have to play his game. Hadn’t she just told Dresner that she’d do whatever it took to get revenge for Janey’s death? Well, whatever it took had just become the necessity of flashing some skin.

And if it also meant letting Aden take a bite, as it almost certainly would?

She ignored the thrill of excitement that thought generated, telling herself that her nipples were peaking because there was a cold draft in the room. This was Chicago, after all, and the wind was a nearly constant buffeting against the windows.

“All right, that’s it,” she told her reflection. “Buck up, Sid.”

But she still felt better once she’d pulled on her long, wool coat along with a warm scarf. Maybe it would be cold in Aden’s office. Maybe she’d have an excuse to keep the scarf on.

“SIDONIE REID IS here, my lord.”

Aden swung the chair around from his contemplation of the Chicago skyline and met Bastien’s amused expression.

“She’s wearing a scarf,” Bastien explained.

“Show her in,” Aden said. “And, Bastien,” he added before his lieutenant could open the door. “Turn up the heat.”

He grinned. “Right away, my lord.”

Aden leaned back, not bothering to get up when Sidonie marched into his office. And that’s what she did. She marched, determination furrowing her brow and tightening her full lips into a pinched pout. Did she realize that her resolve to resist his seduction only made her that much more irresistible? That her very defiance was a blatant challenge to his dominance as an apex predator? He smirked privately, thinking of the many ways he could deal with her deliberate provocation, and he would deal with it. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t play with her first.