Page 103 of Whispers of Wisteria

Damen’s casual smirk didn’t falter, but his gaze flickered, ever so briefly, toward me. “Besides that, what’s going on?”

Miles sighed, setting me back onto my feet in front of him.

But before Miles could respond, Bryce was already off on another tirade. “Don’t give me that shit.” He pointed at Miles. “Heshould understand; he has a sister too! I expect more fromhim. He’d want to know if she was making bad decisions with people he had to look at daily.”

I was still in a daze, but something nagged at me.

His sister…

Miles’ssister.

“Colette wants nothing to do with us.” I looked up at Miles as he shrugged. “She has her own thing. So I don’t have to worry about her making ‘bad decisions’ with anyone I know.”

Crap. Miles had no idea that Damen and Colette were athing.

And then there was Damen, observing the conversation without a hint of guilt. The man hadn’t even flinched at Miles’s statement, unlike me.

My stomach was roiling. But why…

Why didIfeel bad? This had nothing to do with me!

Miles’s lazy grip on my waist tightened, and he glanced down at me. “Bianca?” he asked, concern heavy in his voice. “What’s wrong?”

No, no, no! I didn’twant to become a part of Damen’s indiscretions. But now Miles was hovering, and Bryce, appearing slightly less disheveled, was watching in muted curiosity.

Meanwhile, Damen lazily touched his glasses, looking put together in his pressed black shirt and burgundy slacks. He watched me with a measured coolness. It was as if he weredaringme to spill the beans.

Jerk. I should say something. Ishouldruin his day.

But he knew I wouldn’t—those unruffled gray eyes watched me with confidence. He was assured of my loyalty.

I was going to murder him.

Or even better, I’d find a way to make him confess. Mark my words. He’d be the one to tell Miles that he’d slept with his sister.

“Are you sick?” Miles pressed the back of his hand over my forehead and cheeks. “Did we go too far—”

“No!” My throat was closing in panic. Damen raised his eyebrow, and my annoyance with him spread. “Just cramps.”

“Oh…” Miles frowned. He’d be able to tell that the crippling pain had mostly passed. But Miles was innocent and kind and, in a true, helpful manner, offered me an out, “Or maybe you used too much magic?”

This, at least, was enough to pull Damen out of his infuriatingly nonchalant mood.

His lazy posture stiffened, and his focus snapped to Miles. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Is this why you asked Brayden and Anthony to kill your waterboy?”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Bryce rebutted. “There’s no fae at this school named Kent.”

“I never said killanyone.” Miles held up his hand. “Plus, we don’t even have a waterboy.”

“You don’t have…” Bryce narrowed his eyes, suspicion lacing his tone. He stepped back, now gazing at the witch in wariness. “Did you lie?”

Miles grinned, and my skin prickled as his arm brushed over mine. “I needed a minute with Bianca,” he told Bryce, even though he was looking at me. “And Anthony pissed me off.”

My breath seized as his adoring stare pressed into me.

“That’s enough.” Bryce’s command rang through the room, but his tirade—and motion to karate chop the two of us apart—was cut short at Damen’s interception.

“Maybe we should have a minute too,” the onmyoji said, grinning as he stepped to my other side. His sultry side was back, and I raised my eyebrow.