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It’s kind of fun.

It’s kind of scary, too. I’m not used to this many people paying attention to me.

Thanks to traffic, we’re a few minutes late when we arrive at Alfred’s yacht club. (Yeah, they’re a thing. And yes, they’re as snooty as they sound.)

The sun has just set, and you couldn’t ask for a prettier evening. The horizon is peach, and the clouds are periwinkle. Dark palm trees sway gracefully in the warm breeze, silhouetted against the dusky lavender ocean.

We make our way to the marina, looking for the slip number. There are boats of different sizes, but they’re all impressive. Many are decked out in tasteful string lights. Others glow in artificial shades of neon.

I grow nervous the closer we approach the end of the marina.

“That’s it,” Noah says, gesturing me forward.

Alfred’s yacht is the second to last one in this row. It’s with the other large yachts. His, too, has special lighting, but it’s beeninstalled on the outside of the boat, making the perimeter and water glow like a brilliant blue light stick.

The good news is that we’ll be able to watch it sail away after he dumps us into the shark-infested waters.

“Cassian is here, right?” I ask Noah when we pause outside the plank that leads into the boat.

“He texted about five minutes ago to let me know he was aboard.”

“Montgomery, Flower Girl.” Alfred appears on the gangway with a martini in his hand, wearing a ridiculous captain’s hat. “Welcome to my yacht.”

Cassian appears behind him, looking less than impressed. My conservator’s presence eases some of my worries, so I allow Noah to direct me up first.

“I can’t keep calling you Flower Girl,” Alfred says when my feet are firmly planted on the deck. “What’s your name?”

There’s something different about him tonight. His manner is friendlier, his body language looser.

He might be a bit tipsy.

“Piper,” I answer.

“Adorable.” He salutes me with his martini. “While aboard my vessel, you may call me Captain.”

My eyes stray up. “Just like it says on your hat.”

“That’s right.” He gives me a lopsided smirk that’s probably supposed to be charming and then shifts in slightly closer. “If you like it, I’ll let you try it on later.”

Gag.

I somehow manage a smile and shift to the side, allowing Noah to step onto the deck.

In one long swig, Alfred finishes the martini. “Now that you’re all here, I’ll show you around. But first, let me get you something to drink.”

Our vampire host swivels his head like he’s looking for someone. When he spots him, he lifts his hand in the air, snapping several times. “Richard.”

To my surprise, the man who approaches is familiar. Sophia’s tech-ed-teacher-turned-butler wears a tux and carries an empty tray. Alfred plunks the martini glass upon it with so much gusto, the cocktail stick of uneaten green olives swirls around the rim of the glass.

“Why bother with the olives when you can’t eat them?” I ask him.

“Oh, Piper. Darling. A martini isn’t a martini without an olive, is it?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

He gives me a soft pout. “That’s right. You’re a wholesome thing, aren’t you? Ethan liked that about you.” He leans close, nudging his shoulder against mine. “I like it, too.”

Noah steps between us, blocking Alfred from getting close again. “The tour?”