Page 7 of Blood and Magic (RBMC: Helena, MT #2)

“Come, come!” the wedding planner called, gesturing toward the foyer.

I’d been just about to step in that direction when a hand wrapped around my bicep, stopping me.

The touch rattled through my nerve endings, sending strange vibrations along my marrow and into my gut.

I’d never felt anything like it, almost like he could reach inside me and pull out my insides.

I stared into his big brown eyes, marveling at the specks of gold around the rims. They sparkled in the late afternoon light, and a piece of hair fell on his forehead, making me itch to push it out of his face. When he said nothing, I raised my eyebrows and feigned impatience.

“Yes?”

“It’s Vermillion now,” he said.

“Excuse me?” I didn’t understand what he was talking about.

“My name,” he explained. “I haven’t gone by Van since…well, it’s been a while. Most people call me Mill.”

Perhaps I expected him to say something more profound, maybe an explanation about why he seemed so pissed to see me. Did he not think I’d be at my sister’s wedding? Why did I care? I was a silly girl with a stupid unrequited crush, and he was just a Bastard.

“Got it,” I said, trying to leave again. He tightened his grip on me.

“You look…” He stopped and grimaced, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “It’s good to see you, Maeve.”

I ignored the rush of relief that he did, in fact, remember me, and thought it was good to see me. Instead, I forced a tight grin and mocked his tone. “It’s Mae.”

“Mae,” he purred as if testing the sound on his tongue. “I like Maeve better.”

“Why?” I didn’t understand why he had an opinion about my name. It had been nearly seventeen years since we’d seen each other.

He smiled for the first time that day, and it lit up his face, taking years off his features. But before he could explain, a loud screeching echoed through the atmosphere.

“Maeve! Vermillion!” The wedding planner skirted around the corner and balked at us. “Come on!”

“We’d better go.” He didn’t let go of me, just loosened his grip so he could walk us back to the group, his hand wrapped around my arm, softly guiding me like he was afraid of letting me go.

When we arrived in the foyer, Guin’s eyes shifted between us, but she didn’t say anything. I cut my attention to Sol and Orion, who looked so disgustingly adorable together, I almost couldn’t stand it.

I’d been raised to see him as a threat, but in the six months since Sol had announced her shotgun engagement, I’d come to hesitantly accept her choice and Orion’s role in her life.

And when the RBMC started to work the ranch and turn things around, I tentatively came to terms with it, as much of a pill as it might have been.

Now, though…I was squeezed in between Lycan and Van…er, Mill, two Bastards on either side, and I couldn’t help but feel suffocated, trapped on all sides by people I barely trusted and couldn’t possibly understand.

“Mill, step closer to Maeve,” the photographer said. He inched toward me. “Closer.”

Finally, he pressed up against my spine, his chest connecting with my shoulder blades, his stomach at my lower back.

My pulse thundered against my ribs, a tremendous hammering that almost had me doubling over.

My muscles shivered, a chill skating down my torso and back up again, causing goose bumps on my flesh.

Vermillion’s fresh cedarwood scent rippled off him in decadent, intoxicating waves, and I wanted to bury my face in his chest to inhale it more fully.

But it was more than that. Something in the way our bodies connected made me want to lean against him completely, as if electric sparks flicked between us in a magnetic field that required physical force to keep us separated.

It entranced me, making me want to put my hands on every inch of his body to explore it more fully.

“Beautiful. Hold just like that,” the photographer said before snapping off a few rounds. “Okay, just the couples now.”

I didn’t understand what he meant until he paired Ava with Lycan and had them stand in front of the marble staircase.

“What’s wrong, little sister?” Liam asked, nudging me in the shoulder with his.

“Nothing,” I squeaked and cleared my parched throat to try again. “Nothing. Why?”

“You look terrified.” Liam, Ava, and I had inherited our father’s black hair and bright blue eyes, nearly the color of the sky.

But the stress of running the family business had taken its toll on my older brother.

At thirty-one, he’d already started going gray around the temples, and I wondered if that was what I had to look forward to.

Perhaps if I stayed at Vanderbilt Holdings, it might be.

Of course, it made him look a little more devil-may-care.

It would make me look like a wretched old hag. At least there was always hair dye.

I returned my attention to my twin and the Bastard, noticing how they looked strangely compelling together.

His bright blond hair contrasted with her straight dark locks.

It reminded me of a yin-yang situation, and based on how eager he was to do shots earlier, I suspected their looks weren’t where that analogy might end.

“Mill, Maeve, you’re up.” The photographer urged us to take the spot where Lycan and Ava had vacated, and I held my flowers higher, forcing a smile.

“Okay, get a little closer so I can get you in the same shot.” I stepped toward Vermillion.

“Closer.” He moved toward me. “Closer. Okay, act like you actually like each other.”

Vermillion put his hand on my lower back, and I stiffened, the warmth crackling through my molecules like lightning. I gulped and tried to smile wider.

“Relax,” he whispered low enough for only me to hear. “You look like a scared horse.”

“Well, what do you expect?” I retorted. “You’ve been glaring at me the entire ceremony.”

“I’m not glaring,” he snarled, his tone that of a lion having been chastised for chasing a gazelle.

“Hmm.” I didn’t say anything else, just suffered through the rest of the pictures before it was time for the other couples.

But when Vermillion took his hand away, a void opened under my skin, like the absence of his palm ached more than the sensation of it being there. I wanted to force him to touch me again. I wanted to have his skin on every inch of mine, and I didn’t understand the compulsion.

Despite my girlhood crush on him, none of those desires made sense. And the strange rhythm in my heart when he was around only confused me further.

Stay away from him, my logical brain urged. For the rest of the night, stay away from him.

I just hoped I could rein in the part of me that lived for the adrenaline rush having him would cause.