Page 3 of Mastered by Them (Rose and Dagger #2)

Danica

T he scents of churros, beer, sweat, and kicked-up dust fill my nose.

Lights flash from games, and the air is filled with the sounds of live music and announcers’ voices.

Game operators holler at people to try their hands at knocking over cups, tossing ping-pongs into goldfish bowls, or losing their dinners on one of those death-trap zipper rides.

Dmitri and Leah walk on either side of me, which is as much about support as it is to keep me from bolting. I didn’t want to hang out with them tonight, but as soon as Dmitri learned about my “engagement” to Edmund Layton, he and Leah came over to kidnap me for a trip to the Clear Springs Fair.

“So, let me get this straight. The hot guy you were talking to at Patrick’s party—the one Dmitri nearly got into a fistfight with at Olivia’s benefit—you’re engaged to him now?” Leah takes a sip of her cheap beer and grimaces. “Do I have that right?”

I nod and swipe her cup so I can take a healthy swig. The bitter, weak brew slides easily down my throat but leaves behind a piney aftertaste. Now I can see why she made a face. I quickly hand back her cup.

“You know we’re in California in the twenty-first century.” She marches to the nearest garbage can and chucks the beer. “Nobody can make you get married here.”

“Sure. And if I don’t, my entire family dies.”

“It’s not that bad.” Dmitri’s voice is low, but his gray eyes hold a dark element of uncertainty.

“It is, and you know it.” It feels like a dark cloud has descended over the cheery, chaotic fairground. “Have you talked to Rachel lately?”

His jaw clenches. Rachel has barely left her room since those guys tailed her.

Children shriek on a merry-go-round. Leah turns to me, her eyebrows drawn together. “I’ll smuggle you out of the country. North or south? Or perhaps west, to Caperna?”

“My family would still be in danger.” Not only that, but imagine if I did leave the country. I’d miss my family, Leah, and my crazy roommates. And Cackle—could I bring him with me?

And…Troy and Edmund. I’d be leaving them, too.

I try to tell myself it would be a good thing. Whatever toxic back-and-forth we’ve been doing would finally end. I’d be free of them, and nothing could make me happier.

My eyes are watering with happiness…right?

“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Leah throws her arms around me. “I’m so sorry. Whatever you want to do, I’ll help. You want to marry this fool? I’ll be your maid of honor. You want help slashing his tires and drawing dicks on his face with permanent marker? I’ll be there.”

The thought of Edmund with dicks on his face makes me laugh. I wipe at my eyes. No tears, no bullshit. I can do this.

“I’m going through with the engagement, at least.” I sound more certain than I feel. “At least let the Vorsong Circle think the families are closer than they are. And after that…I guess we’ll see.”

Leah nods, and Dmitri slings his arms around our shoulders in silent support.

With the happy sounds of children shrieking and country music blaring from an out-of-sight stage, it’s easy to believe everything will be okay.

* * *

Edmund

Danica is fucking gorgeous. She’s too beautiful for this party at my family’s lake house. Her light gray dress matches her eyes and swishes gently around her legs as she walks. She’s carrying around a glass of champagne, but barely sipping from it.

She looks like a silvery, untouchable goddess.

I kick at the gravel landscaping that surrounds the boat house. Water laps peacefully at the shore. Paper lanterns line the dock and reflect against the dark water.

Here in the shadows, fewer people approach me. Maybe I look like I’m sulking about the engagement party, but nothing could be further from the truth.

I get to marry Danica. I thought I had to push her away to keep her safe from my family, but if she’s actually a part of it…well, nothing safer. My father and grandfather won’t hurt her to get to the Aseyevs.

Because she’ll be mine.

Caleb approaches with a couple of other guys who work for my family.

They’re relatives, too. It’s the blond twins, Jack and James.

Second or third cousins, I can’t fucking remember.

There are so many family members here, from both my side and Danica’s, my head is spinning.

I set my nearly-empty tumbler of whiskey on the ground, because the alcohol doesn’t help the dizzying sense of disbelief that whirls through me.

Caleb claps me on the shoulder. “Hey, congrats, man. Your fiancée is beautiful.”

“Yeah.” I don’t take my eyes from her. “She’s also smart and funny.”

Jack leers. “Sounds like you really like her. Even though she’s a dirty fucking Aseyev. Must be good pussy?—”

“Don’t. Finish. That. Thought.” Troy comes out of nowhere, his hand settling hard on Jack’s shoulder and steering him away.

I watch as Troy’s other hand goes to his pocket—he slides his phone out, looks at the screen, then quickly puts it away.

I wonder who’s calling or texting him, when everyone he knows or works with is here at the party.

Jack’s twin, James, widens his eyes. “Fuck, Edmund—the Aseyev bitch even charmed your bodyguard. That pussy has to be epic?—”

“Stop.” I keep myself from decking him, but just barely. “If you want to live through the next five seconds, you will shut your mouth, turn around, and walk into the house. There, you’ll make excuses for yourself and your asshole twin, and the two of you will leave the party.”

Caleb stares in shock.

James’s mouth gapes open like a trout’s and I have a sudden urge to shove him in the lake where he belongs. I raise my eyebrows, wondering if I’m going to have to punch my cousin at my own engagement party.

He sneers, turns on his heel, and stomps away like a petulant manchild.

“The fuck?” Caleb inclines his head in James’s direction. “Since when did you stick up for an Aseyev over your own family?”

“Since my family started acting like a bunch of assholes.” I lean back against the side of the boat house.

“Huh.” Caleb sips from a tumbler.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I glance back toward the crowded lawn. Danica laughs at something her brother says, then glances in my direction. Her laughter fades.

Fuck. There’s a chance she’ll get on board with this. But it isn’t a big chance. Especially not with the daggers she glares at me from time to time.

“Just, she’s dancing circles around the whole family. Did you know she called your grandfather a ‘decrepit douchenozzle’ to his face , and he just laughed and pulled her in for a fucking hug?”

“She said what ? He—hugged her?”

“Yep. And your dad shook her hand and said the Laytons need more attitude in their ranks. She pretended to scratch her nose and flipped him off.”

I don’t have any words. But I need to talk to that little angel. She has to tread carefully when she’s dancing in hell.

Caleb pulls his phone from his pocket and swears. “My mom won’t stop calling. She’s pissed she wasn’t invited.”

Of course she wasn’t invited—this is a family event, and my mother is here, walking around on my father’s arm like they don’t hate each other.

Caleb gives me an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I gotta take this or she’ll keep blowing up my phone.”

“Sure, go ahead.” I switch my focus back to Danica as Caleb takes off. She’s chatting with an older man I don’t recognize. Probably someone from the Aseyev side. I notice very few of the Laytons and Aseyevs intermingling. It’ll take a while for the families to build trust with each other.

That’s fine. I just need Danica’s trust.

I stride out of the shadows and approach her.

“Oh, here’s your young man now,” the white-haired man says.

“Uncle Aleksandr, this is Edmund Layton.” Danica frowns at me, but smiles at her uncle as she makes the introduction.

After a few minutes of pointless small talk about the weather, about the restaurant business, about nothing real, I touch Danica’s hand. “Can I steal you for a second?”

Her frown returns, but she says something to her uncle in Russian and follows me to the boat house. Once we’re in the shadows, I take a good look at my captive.

She shivers, so I shrug out of my suit jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. Instead of a thanks, I get a glare.

I step closer, backing her against the wall.

Her breath hitches.

“Are you afraid of me, angel?” I inhale her sweet scent.

She scoffs. “Seems like you want me to be.”

“You haven’t talked to me since the engagement. Why is that?”

I wait a long moment for her answer. I can’t tell, even from the stubborn tilt to her chin, whether she’s thinking hard or refusing to speak. Maybe it’s both.

“Are you afraid of me, then?”

“Shut up.” She shoves at my shoulder.

I don’t budge, but she has a way out if she wants it.

“We could have a good marriage.” I don’t mention how my mother and father loathe each other, how my father always has a mistress and my mother leaves a trail of brokenhearted lovers in her wake.

Danica laughs softly. “A good marriage. Right. Me, to you.”

Easing closer, I blow softly against her ear. “Yes, you to me. We already know there’s heat between us. So much heat.”

I can practically taste her resolve melting away, rich and heady against my tongue. When I take her hand in mine, she doesn’t pull away. I rub the soft skin over her knuckles. She feels so good. Every time I touch her—it doesn’t matter where—I feel it with my whole body.

“Danica.” Her name leaves my mouth as a raspy plea.

Then her lips are on mine.

* * *

Troy

The Laytons’ lake house has been scrubbed and stuffed with flowers. A jazz quartet plays softly in the background, and caterers wield trays of finger foods and champagne. Tiny lights dangle from tree branches and illuminate the wide lawn that stretches to the lake.

Not bad for an engagement party planned only six days in advance. Then again, with enough money, it’s possible to get all kinds of last-minute services. Security, catering, decor, invitations sent to the top criminals in the city.

Dani has never looked more beautiful…or more glum.

But she seems to shake off her sadness when she sees Edmund approaching.

I watch their conversation, but I can’t tell what they’re saying to each other. My chest feels too tight when he takes her hand and leads her away.

They disappear in the shadows by the boat house, where the light from the paper lanterns doesn’t reach.

I hate this. She’ll be his, not ours .

My phone buzzes in my pocket again. Dread fills my gut. I know who it is—she’s been calling all night. Still, I can’t help myself. I check the ID. Amber Pinton .

What can she want?

Nothing I’m willing to give her. Not ever again. I have enough black marks on my record, thanks to her.