Page 13 of Shift of Morals (Shifter Lords #2)

Caterers and decorators ran around, everyone keeping one eye on Gianna as she crossed the room. A single long table was set up by the large bay windows, multiple stainless containers steaming with fresh food. Flower arrangements littered the room, soulless and white.

I hadn’t done those arrangements, and I could tell by the look of them that a Floromancer wasn’t involved. A human had done these.

A stab of hurt speared me.

Gianna led us to a large round table. She gestured with a perfectly manicured hand. “Please have a seat. My fiancé and his counterpart will be here soon.”

Simone made no move to join us. “You aren’t staying for dinner?” I asked.

Gianna snorted. “The help doesn’t eat at our table.”

I stiffened. Simone’s jaw clenched, but she said nothing. She took a couple of steps away from the table and held her iPad at her waist, the device like a piece of armor.

There’s no way Caelan knew how Gianna was treating his most loyal shifter. He wouldn’t stand for it, and if he could, then I wanted nothing to do with him.

Moira’s lips tightened. An almost imperceptible shake of Simone’s head told us to drop it. I reached over and touched Moira’s knee. We’d drop it.

For now.

But Gianna better have a full shifter escort next time she goes out, because if we got a hold of her, it won’t matter who she belonged to.

In the middle of the table sat a stack of laminated pages and a binder. “We’ll wait until Caelan gets here before we officially begin. Would you like some wine?”

“I would,” Moira said.

“None for me, thanks.” There was already water on the table, and that was the strongest substance I planned to imbibe this evening.

Gianna gestured and a quivering server came over, holding a bottle of red wine. “Mistress,” she said, pouring the woman a large glass.

“For the vampire, too,” Gianna said, her emphasis on the word pissing me off.

Moira moved her glass for easier access.

“I wasn’t aware vampires could imbibe other substances,” Gianna said.

Moira offered her a tight smile. “I’m full of surprises.” And she was. Moira could eat and drink like a normal person, which wasn’t completely unheard of among certain vampirekind, but she could also day walk and had other specific powers, some of which she had yet to show me.

Moira couldn’t be 100% vampire. I suspected she either had a witch or fae somewhere in her maternal bloodline, but Moira always claimed she hadn’t known her parents.

The doors opened again, revealing two Shifter Lords.

Moira let out a satisfied chuckle. “I hoped it would be him.”

Gianna sent her a curious look but returned her eyes to the Lords.

Soren and Caelan entered the room, their power a punch to the gut. Simone remained in place, eyes watchful. Moira and I rose. Gianna stayed seated for longer than she should have. She might be Caelan’s fiancée, but even family members were required to show proper deference to the Lords.

Simone’s teeth pulled away from her lips at the insult, but she held her tongue.

Soren was a stunning male. Like most Shifter Lords, he was taller than average, standing at least six foot four.

His chestnut hair was wavy and a touch too long, and his eyes were the color of the Aegean Sea.

Cruelty edged his face, and his eyes held the knowledge of too much pain.

Power crackled over his skin as he walked, but when his gaze skimmed the room, they stopped and stayed on Moira.

Uh oh.

Where Soren was traditionally handsome, Caelan was a storm-tossed sea on a cold winter’s night.

He was power and pain and sorrow mixed up in a devastating package.

Our eyes clashed. He stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze raking down my form.

The dress reacted, humming against my skin.

A flower, bright yellow with an aromatic scent, bloomed against my bodice.

Helichrysum, the flower of immortality.

Another curled from the embroidery, rising from the bodice, and brushed against my skin. Lupine.

His gaze rested on those flowers, and one side of his mouth kicked up for a small second—a heartbeat, before he wiped his face completely free of expression and sauntered after Soren.

“Miss Quinn,” Caelan said. “Miss Devlin.”

Moira inclined her head. All I could do was gawk at him like a moron. He wore a charcoal-colored suit with a deep blue tie. As he came closer, I spotted a tiny pin on his tie.

It was in the shape of a helichrysum flower.

Woof.

Evie Quinn, you are in danger .

Gianna finally rose from her seat, a slow graceful glide. She came around the table and smiled, a perfect, emotionless thing on her face.

“Darling,” she breathed, both hands outstretched as she cupped his chin, “you look so handsome.” She snapped her fingers, and a server scurried over holding a small clear box. With deft fingers, she extricated a small boutonniere and pinned it to the lapel of Caelan’s jacket.

I hated it. A boutonniere like that would have never left my shop. It looked like one of those cheap things you bought from the discount fridge at the local florist.

His posture went stiff before he smiled, a small flash of teeth. “Gianna. You look beautiful as always.”

A tiny crack appeared in my heart, but I kept my emotions off my face.

Soren’s gaze tore away from Moira and landed on Gianna, disgust flickering over his expression, there and gone in the blink of an eye as she turned to him. “And you, handsome as always.”

Soren gave a small bow to Gianna. “Always the stunning, consummate hostess, Gianna. Thank you for your hospitality this evening.”

She preened under his attention. “It’s always a pleasure to welcome any of Caelan’s allies to our home.”

Caelan pulled Gianna’s seat out for her. She settled once more, smoothing her hands over her skirt. Caelan sat beside her, and Soren at Caelan’s left, the Lord’s eyes lingering on Moira.

With silent choreography, the servers came over and presented salads, a small pile of spring greens with candied walnuts, sliced apples and pears, and a poppyseed dressing. They refilled my water and everyone else’s wine and faded into the background like they’d never been there.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t my cup of tea. I was sitting with people who weren’t my friends, except Moira who was here mainly for moral support, while being forced to eat with people I didn’t trust.

Moira and I exchanged looks. She wasn’t keen on this either.

“Dig in, ladies,” Gianna said. “We have three more courses to go.”

I gave her a tight smile. “What time are we discussing the arrangements?”

Soren smirked. “We don’t discuss business during dinner, Miss Quinn.”

Moira speared a slice of apple with her fork. “Oh?” Her voice was low and sultry. “What do all important Lords and their Ladies discuss during fancy dress-up dinners?”

Caelan hadn’t taken his eyes off me since he sat down, and it was making me fidget like a hooker in church. The man didn’t just stare. He bored a hole in my soul with the way he was looking at me.

A slow grin curved Soren’s lips. “What would you like to speak about, Miss Devlin?”

Moira chuckled. “Flower arrangements would be nice. Evie turns into a pumpkin soon.”

“There are certain ways a Lord conducts his business, Miss Quinn,” Gianna said in a no-nonsense tone. “Pressing a Lord to hurry simply isn’t done.”

Caelan’s low laugh tightened things inside me. “Evie works on her own schedule.”

Gianna gave him a sharp look. “She is our employee now. Miss Quinn will work on our schedule.”

I blinked. “I do not work for you,” I said archly.

“Our contract is temporary, and you are not entitled to any more time than is allotted by our agreement.” I set my fork down.

“Tonight was a personal favor to Simone and the Shifter Lord, a way to keep open relations as I’ve worked for him before on a contract basis. ” Anger simmered within me.

“I can see now this was a mistake.” I rose from my seat.

“Evie.” Caelan rose.

My teeth gnashed. Without thinking, I reached toward him and squeezed my fist. The hideous boutonniere turned into fine ash, grey dust falling down his jacket. “If you need something like this in the future, I would rather make it for free than see you wear something so ugly.”

One of his eyebrows rose. Using the back of his hand, he brushed the rest of the dust off, eyes glittering with heated amusement. “Gianna’s taste offends you, Miss Quinn?”

“Danger,” Moira said under her breath.

“I believe a florist over-exaggerated their talent, Lord. White roses and baby’s breath are cheap and do not befit the status of a Lord.”

Gianna scoffed. “Miss Quinn, you are out?—”

Caelan lifted his hand. “Let Evie speak.”

Gianna blinked, her eyes widening. She clamped her lips shut, the edges of her mouth going white.

“And what befits my status?” Caelan asked.

Soren watched us like we were playing tennis.

“A black orchid on a simple stick pin. But there are no true black orchids. I’d choose one so dark it looks red in certain light.” My gaze flicked to his lapel. “It would suit your attire this evening.” I cocked my head. “Or maybe purple.”

Caelan’s lips twitched.

A vine snaked from the bodice of my gown, twining out to lift Caelan’s lapel.

Moira sucked in a breath. Soren’s eyes glimmered with amusement.

“Charcoal grey is considered neutral. You could wear a white flower, but it would look gauche.”

Soren barked a laugh, quickly covering it with a cough.

“Are you calling me gauche?” Caelan asked, leaning to brace both palms on the table.

He was enjoying this. And heaven help me, so was I.

“Only your boutonniere.” I smiled sweetly, stroking the wool fabric of his suit with the vine. “But I think I would do something more dramatic. More befitting a Lord.”

“And what would that be?” A low, dangerous, interested tone.

“An Anastasia Chrysanthemum,” I mused. “It looks a little like a spider, with all its spindly petals, but it’s showy. Like all the Lords.”

“Hey,” Soren protested.

“Shh,” Moira whispered. “Evie and Caelan are being interesting.”