Page 166 of Dance of Defiance

But there’s no sign of him.

I glance back over to where Nero and Laz are talking animatedly. Bane, meanwhile, has his usual scowl on his face as he faces the other direction.

Not gonna lie, that guy, with his perpetual moody dark cloud, has a certain…je ne sais quoisabout him. AKA, he’s hot asfuck, though in an annoying,way-too-straight way.

…Unlike a certain someone who’s hot in an “I want your dick but I’m going to pretend I’m straight” way.

I frown, following his steely, smoky gaze over to…

My brow arches.

He’s obviously looking at a particular booth in the VIP lounge, but I can’t tellwhohe’s actually staring at.

It’s not Brooklyn. I watch her say something to the other two and then nod at me before she starts heading back this way, and when she does, Bane’s dark gaze stays locked on the VIP booth.

Evelina?

Well,thatwould be interesting. "Interesting" like a lion hooking up with a bunny rabbit, but still, color me curious.

But then Dove says something to Evie, stands, and walks off toward the VIP restrooms.

…And there goes Bane’s dark gaze: following the shock of silvery blonde and pink hair.

“Hey, dummy.”

I yank my attention away from Bane when I realize Brooklyn is standing right in front of me. “Huh?”

She smirks. “He’s straight, FYI.” She turns and nods across the club at Bane. “Straighterthan straight. Save your breath.”

I frown. “I wasn’t?—”

“Sureyou weren’t.” She grins at me. “C’mon, let’s skip out before Vampira gets back.”

Outside, around the corner in the alley, Brooklyn watches me slip a cigarette between my lips and light it.

“Can I bum one?”

I stare. “You don’t smoke.”

“And you don’t tend to share what goes on in that head of yours.” She winks. “I’m hoping if I do the unusual, you will too.”

I roll my eyes, taking a drag of my smoke and then tapping the side of my head. “Trust me, you don’t want what’s up here in amnesia land.”

She sighs and holds out her hand. “Well?”

“If Kir gets pissed, I’m telling him you forced me,” I mutter, handing her a cigarette. She puts it between her lips and leans forward as I flick the lighter for her and hold it to the tip. Shetakes a drag, thenimmediatelysputters and coughs, yanking the cigarette out of her mouth, her face horrified.

“JesusChrist,” she wheezes. “How the fuck does this turn into a habit?”

“Practice,” I chuckle, reaching for the cig. She yanks her hand away. “Not until you share what’s going on in that head. And don’t give me the bullshit you were giving me inside. I know you well enough to know when you’re full of it.” She smiles. “And, I mean, I also want to know so I canhelp?”

Yeah, good luck with that.

I sigh, looking away and sucking on my teeth.

Fuck it.

“Okay, fine,” I grumble. “You called it. I was seeing someone, and…” I shrug. “It’s not going to work out.”