Making my way back into the sitting room, I check on a sleeping Micaela, my eyes finding its way back to Puer Natus.
Nope. Not today.
I pick it up and slide it under my bed, annoyed with my curiosity.
Lying on my bed, I count the lines on the ceiling until I slowly drift off to sleep again, tired from last night.
When I was twelve, I experienced my first crush. I think it was the first time that I ever really crushed on someone. The stomach clenching, heart aching, palm sweating, need to have him. His name was Jordan Samuel. I thought he liked me too until he made an ass out of me in front of the whole school by playing a prank. “No, Tillie, ew, I don’t want to date you… leave me alone. Nerd.” I can still feel the burn on my cheeks and the knife turn in my gut. I quickly learned why they call it a crush. Because the feelings you develop for that person are heavy enough to fucking crush you. Love is something else entirely, and although I’m not sure I’ve found out exactly why I think it’s something else entirely, I think the reason why I know is sitting on my bed, playing with our daughter.
“What’s up?” he asks when he catches me staring. He woke us from our nap to have cuddles with her.
I shake my head, my eyes falling to Micaela. “Nothing. It’s just that I love seeing you with her.”
He doesn’t answer, so I swing my attention back to him. His go lazy, his lip kicking up in a grin. “Are you swooning?”
I freeze. “What? No…”
He licks his lip and chuckles, picking Micaela up and hugging her into his chest. “Mommy is swooning over Daddy,” he coos into Micaela’s head, but his eyes are still on mine. There’s something different about the way he’s staring at me this time. I almost see the Nate I fell for last year. He’s something made from witchcraft. Everything alluring and evil, his magic and charisma like a stubborn magnetism that ultimately brings you to your death.
“No, I’m not…” I shake my head, sucking in a copious amount of air.
I back up.
He counters my step and wraps one arm around my back, pulling me into him. “Admit it.” He grins. “You think I’m adorable.”
I roll my eyes. “I wouldn’t say ado—”
His lips gently touch mine, his fingers burrowing into my hair, caressing the back of my head. I part my lips a little and his tongue slips into my mouth. We’re interrupted by Micaela’s little hand coming up to my face.
We both laugh, pulling back and looking down at her. “She really is fucking perfect,” Nate says softly.
“I know,” I agree, running my index finger down her cheeks. “We did one thing right, at least.”
“Yeah.” He smiles and then gestures outside. “Tonight, Hector is organizing a poolside dinner. It’ll be all of us, Bishop’s cousin Spyder, and a few old generation Kings. I want you to come.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Really? Why?”
“Because I want all of us there. Micaela is in this world now, too. It’s a part of her whether we like it or not. It’ll be safe, baby, you don’t have to worry about anything happening to her again. She’s with me now.”
I chew on my bottom lip. I know I trust Nate when it comes to that, and I somewhat trust Bishop, but as far as the rest go—that would be a solid no. I catch Nate smiling down at Micaela, the proud look on his face is all for her. I can’t take that away from him. We can talk more in-depth of future “dinners” after tonight, though, because I’m not interested in making this a reoccurring thing.
“Okay,” I whisper just as he’s placing her down onto the playmat.
“Yeah?” He smirks up at me.
I nod. “Sure. How bad could it be?”
After rushing around the room, packing Micaela’s bag, getting ready, choosing a dress, and then blowing out my hair, we are officially late. I tried to wear a black dress, but Nate said the women are to wear red and the men wear black. We dressed Micaela in a little red gown that puffed out around her legs, and then we were ready.
Nate drops down gears and zips onto the road. He watches his speedometer every two seconds though, making sure he isn’t driving too fast over the speed limit. Micaela is strapped in the backseat of his car. A few minutes later we pull into Bishop’s driveway and Nate reaches forward, handing me a small red velvet box. I run my fingers over it, turning to face him.
“What is it?”
He shrugs. “Open it and put it on.” Flipping open the glove compartment, he takes out a box around the same size, maybe a bit bigger. I open mine and my eyes land on a black lace masquerade mask. Only it’s not the usual masquerade mask where the lace is pretty with twirls. This one looks a little different. I tie it around the back of my head and flip the mirror down to take a look. I was right, it’s very idiosyncratic. Each strap of lace is apportioned specifically on a patterned line to reveal a skull. It’s beautiful, but a little frightening. I love it. Nate is tying his at the back of his head.
“Let me see yours.”
I can see the side of his cheek smirk. “If you show me
