Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104141 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Beyond the claw, there were smaller tables spread outward in careful spacing, round, intimate, built for quieter conversations and softer laughter. Tall vases held orchids and black roses. Branches of gilded bamboo rose from the centerpieces.
The scent of the room wrapped around me, amber and plum from my Tiger's presence, bright citrus from the florals, savory warmth from the food that was soon to come.
The Great Gatsby had stepped into my island mansion and bowed to my Tora.
My eyes tracked further along the ceiling. Along two full sides of the ballroom, massive draping poured from the rafters to the floor. Black silk threaded with gold shimmer. They hung in heavy folds, concealing sections of the room the way a magician hid the final trick.
I narrowed my eyes.
What else have you built, Tora?
I walked forward.
Reo kept my pace beside me.
I sighed. “When the Fangs see this, they will demand a party."
"They will."
"Everyone is already asking too much of her."
"My recommendation is to get used to it."
I frowned.
Reo's voice stayed even. "She gives a lot. It is her gift. It is also her weakness."
"If the Fangs ask for a party, she will fucking give it to them."
"Likely."
I let out a long breath through my nose.
“Well.” Reo cleared his throat. "Keep in mind that my birthday is next month."
I slowed my pace, turned my head slowly, and stared at him. "Not you too."
"I am only saying."
"You are not getting a party, Reo."
"I said nothing about a party." He gave me a warm smile and then put his gaze back on the huge claw. "I just think that. . .surely the Heart would want to do something special for the Roar.”
Oh fuck.
Reo continued, “A small gathering.”
I shook my head.
“A cheese party, perhaps. Nothing extravagant. Very intimate and thoughtful."
"A cheese party?"
"Aged cheeses. A curated selection. Some charcuterie. A small gathering of close friends."
"You do not have close friends."
"I have Ali and you."
"And we simply do a nice dinner, watch one of your stupid black and white movies and smoke expensive cigars. We have never had a fucking cheese party to celebrate your birthday."
"We could start."
"Reo."
"It would come before the Fangs party, of course. There are levels. The Roar outranks the Fangs by considerable margin."
"I am going to kill you and them."
“I only respectfully request that you do not kill me before my cheese party.”
I rubbed my temple.
A dark chuckle left him.
When we got to everyone, Nyomi clapped her hands once. “Alright, everyone. Follow me.”
Nyomi walked directly under the claw.
What’s next?
The Claws fell in behind my Tiger immediately, trailing her like ducklings in tailored suits. Hiro had his fur coat draped over his shoulders again.
Every one of them passed between those gold talons without hesitating. Kaede tilted his head back as he moved beneath it.
Toma grinned. “Wow.”
The twins walked through shoulder to shoulder, heads tilted back in perfect mirror.
Daisuke chuckled and skipped forward like a damned kid. That dress rippled with him.
Reo and I followed at the back.
And then I stepped beneath the claw.
Goddamn it. This is really awesome.
My gaze went straight up.
From directly under the structure, the scale of it shifted. The talons rose around me like the bars of a sacred cage. The dragon's ivory palm curved above the table, dimpled and ridged with muscle-memory of a creature that had driven this limb through plaster and beam without yielding.
And at the center of the palm, the chandelier sparkled with cascading crystals and gold leaves.
All around us, the violin's melody swelled.
I exhaled once, slow, and forced myself to keep walking.
Further up, the Claws had already reached the other side of the table and began to spill out from beneath the claw in a loose cluster, talking over each other.
Soon, Reo and I emerged on the other side of the claw too.
Oh.
Several feet ahead, a long bar stretched beneath a canopy of gold-leafed latticework, black marble top, and crystal fixtures. Tons of bottles of expensive liquor were arranged behind the bar in descending height.
But what made the Claws slow their pace and adjust their clothing. . .were the several women standing in a loose arc near the bar.
Well-played, Tora.
Every one of the women was dressed like a 1920s flapper, just not in black.
One wore deep red with fringe at the hem. Her dark hair shined.
Another had on emerald green with gold geometric patterns and the back of the dress cut so low we could all see the dip of her spine.
A third was dressed in champagne and matching ostrich feathers.
The fourth dazzled in deep violet and had a short sharp bob.
The fifth and sixth looked to be twins, dressed in identical pink dresses with embroidered flowers curling up their sides.
Behind them, the bartender lined up shot glasses in a long row along the bar and poured clear liquor into them, making sure that every glass filled to the same line.