Page 31

He was immaculately dressed in a suit that probably cost more than my old cottage on pack grounds, dark hair swept back from a face that was almost too perfect to be real. His eyes, a shade of blue so deep they appeared almost black, scanned the room with cool detachment.

Until they landed on me.

Something flickered in those depths—recognition, interest, calculation. He changed course, moving toward my desk with measured strides.

"Juniper," he said, voice smooth as aged whiskey. "What a pleasant surprise."

I straightened in my chair.

"Pride. I didn't realize you were visiting today. You know, I do happen to work here. It’s more surprising to see you in this office than it is me. What brings you in?"

"A spontaneous decision." His gaze traveled over me, lingering just long enough to make heat rise to my cheeks. "You look...different today. More vibrant."

There was something unsettling about his scrutiny, as if he could see beneath my skin to the changes within. Could he tell what I'd done with Lust?

"New blouse," I deflected, gesturing vaguely at my outfit.

His lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It suits you."

Before I could respond, Lust appeared at Pride's shoulder.

"Brother. To what do we owe the honor...again?" His tone was light, but I caught the undercurrent of tension.

Pride turned, his expression cooling several degrees. "Family business. A few minutes of your time, if you can spare it."

"For you? Always." Lust's sarcasm was subtle but unmistakable. He glanced at me, a silent message in his eyes that I couldn't quite decipher. Protection? Warning?

Pride nodded, then returned his attention to me. "We should continue our conversation soon. There's much more to discuss about your...unique situation."

The way he said it made my stomach clench—as if I were a curiosity, a specimen he'd created and now wanted to examine more closely. As if reanimating me gave him some claim to my time, my attention. My body. But his eyes said something else. Something softer. Something I don’t want to allow myself to think too much about.

I should be grateful he brought me back. I knew that. But it was hard not to feel like it was just another decision made for me, another choice I'd never been given a say in.

"Perhaps," I said, neither agreeing nor refusing.

Amusement flickered across his face. He turned to follow Lust, but not before I caught the possessive glance he cast back at me.

When the door to Lust's office closed behind them, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

I returned to my work, but couldn't focus. My mind kept returning to Pride's words: "your unique situation." As if dying and being brought back was just some interesting condition to be discussed over coffee.

I was more than an experiment. More than a curiosity. More than whatever he thought I was.

An idea sparked, so sudden and perfect I nearly laughed out loud. I was a matchmaker at a supernatural dating agency. I had access to the kinds of people who could make an evening truly memorable—and not in a good way.

What if, instead of avoiding Pride, I arranged for him to have a date? Not with me, of course. But with someone perfectly calculated to drive him insane for an entire evening? A sort of revenge.

The more I thought about it, the more delicious the plan became. Pride clearly thought highly of himself. He'd expect an evening of adoration, intellectual stimulation, or at the very least, respectful deference. What if instead he got...the opposite of everything he valued?

I began mentally sorting through our client database.

We had a few candidates who would be perfect—beings who were lovely in their own way but possessed habits or qualities that would drive someone like Pride to distraction.

Someone who talked incessantly about themselves.

Someone who chewed with their mouth open.

Someone who asked deeply personal questions without regard for boundaries.

The possibilities were endless, and surprisingly satisfying to contemplate.

I was still plotting when the door to Lust's office opened, and the brothers emerged. They stood a bit too stiffly, their expressions a bit too controlled. Whatever "family business" they'd discussed hadn't gone well.

Pride gave a curt nod to his brother, then turned to leave. This was my chance. If I didn't act now, I'd lose my nerve.

I stood, calling out just as he reached the door.

"Pride?"

He turned, one eyebrow arched in question.

I approached, carefully planning out what to say to make this actually work.

"I've been thinking about what you said," I began, my heart hammering. "About discussing my situation further."

Pride's expression shifted, the coldness in his gaze warming to something like interest. A smile played at the corners of his mouth—victorious, almost predatory.

"Have you now?" he said, his voice a low purr that was clearly meant to be seductive.

I nodded, infusing my posture with just enough hesitancy to be convincing. "I think you're right. Perhaps...dinner? As a thank you?"

Pride's smile widened, satisfaction evident in every line of his perfect face. "I think that would be an excellent idea."

"Friday, 8 PM at Elysium?" I suggested, naming one of the most exclusive restaurants in town.

"Perfect," he agreed immediately. "I look forward to it, Juniper. Truly."

"Excellent. I'll make a reservation."

As Pride left, I caught the subtle shift in his usual composed demeanor—a slight quickening of his step, a barely perceptible straightening of his shoulders. He believed he'd secured a date with me. That his persistence, his authority, his very nature had won me over.

He was in for quite a surprise.

I maintained my professional smile until the door closed behind him. Only then did I allow myself a small, vindictive grin of triumph.

"That's a dangerous smile," Lust's voice came from just behind me, making me start. "What did you do?"

I turned to find him watching me with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "Nothing...yet."

"Yet?" His eyebrows rose. "Now I'm really intrigued."

I glanced around the office. Too many ears. "Not here."

Lust's eyes sparkled with interest. "My office, then."

Once we were safely behind closed doors, I dropped into one of the sleek leather chairs across from his desk.

"I just set your brother up on a date," I announced.

Lust stared at me.

"With you?" His voice had an edge I couldn't quite place.

"No," I laughed. "With someone else. But he thinks it's with me."

Understanding dawned on his face, followed by disbelief.

"You're pranking Pride? That's...unexpected. And honestly impressive."

"The way he acts—like reanimating me gives him some kind of claim?" I shook my head. "He needs to be taken down a peg."

"So you're sending someone else in your place." Lust's mouth curved into a slow, appreciative smile. "Someone I'm guessing Pride won't enjoy meeting."

"That's the plan. I need to find the perfect decoy—someone who'll make his evening absolutely miserable."

Lust leaned back in his chair, studying me with new interest.

"And here I thought I'd figured you out after last night. Clearly there's more to you than meets the eye, Juniper Grey."

I fought the blush that threatened to rise at the mention of last night. "I contain multitudes. And apparently, a talent for deception."

"Deception?" He grinned. "I prefer to think of it as creative justice between brothers."

"So you'll help me?" I asked, somewhat surprised by his willingness to prank his own brother.

"Help you give Pride the date from hell?" Lust's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Absolutely. Trust me, I've had centuries to learn what drives him crazy."

And just like that, any lingering awkwardness between us from our night together vanished, replaced by the camaraderie of co-conspirators.

"Tell me everything," I said, pulling out a notepad. "What are his pet peeves? His turn-offs? What would make this the worst night of his immortal life?"

Lust's smile was positively wicked. "Where to begin? He abhors tardiness. Can't stand people who chew loudly. And he has a pathological fear of public embarrassment."

"Perfect," I scribbled notes. "What about conversation topics?"

"He detests discussing bodily functions, obviously. Hates small talk. Can't stand being interrupted. And if someone touches him without permission?" Lust mimed an explosion. "Total meltdown."

I couldn't help laughing at his obvious enjoyment. "You're really into this, aren't you?"

"Are you kidding? Pride's been insufferable for millennia. The chance to see him squirm through a terrible date? It's a gift."

We spent the next hour crafting the perfect nightmare evening for Pride. By the time we finished, I had a list of candidates from our client files, each one possessing qualities guaranteed to drive Pride to distraction.

"What about Meredith?" Lust suggested, pointing to a file I'd pulled. "The banshee with the pet ferret she takes everywhere?"

I considered it. "Promising. But I'm leaning toward Daphne." I tapped another folder. "The nymph who compulsively shares intimate details about her past relationships. In explicit detail."

Lust winced. "That would do it. Pride is remarkably prudish for the embodiment of, well, pride."

"Then it's settled." I closed Daphne's file with a satisfying snap. "One blind date with a boundaryless nymph, coming up."

"You know," Lust said, leaning forward, "most people who sleep with me don't immediately conscript me into their evil plotting."

I met his gaze steadily, refusing to be flustered. "I'm not most people."

His expression softened, something warm and genuine replacing his usual practiced charm. "I think that’s what I like most about you."

I cleared my throat. "I should get back to work. Those compatibility analyses won't match themselves."

"By all means." Lust gestured to the door with exaggerated formality. "Don't let our vengeance plotting interfere with actual productivity."

As I gathered my notes and stood to leave, he added, "You know Pride will never forgive you for this."

I paused at the door, considering. "Maybe not.

But I never asked to be reanimated, and I certainly never asked for him to kiss me afterward like he was claiming some prize.

" I looked back at Lust, finding not judgment in his expression, but appreciation.

"He should learn that not everything—or everyone—exists to be his personal achievement. "

Lust's smile was slow and genuine. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

Walking back to my desk, I felt lighter than I had in weeks. Revenge, I discovered, was a dish best served with an accomplice who knew all the ingredients.