Seven Black Diamonds (Seven Black Diamonds #1)(4)
“Creed,” she repeated quietly.
He smiled and said, “I wanted to wish you happy birthday before I sing.”
Again, she nodded. This time, though, she looked up—and wished she hadn’t.
Creed was watching her with an utterly inappropriate intensity. If her father saw, he’d toss Creed out the door, despite the obscene sum he’d probably paid for his presence. Lily felt like her skin was electrified everywhere his gaze fell. She’d felt a tingle of recognition a few times when she’d seen other fae-bloods, but not like this. Nothing had ever felt like this.
“I didn’t know you did these sort of things,” she finally managed to say.
“Talk to beautiful girls at parties?”
“No. Sing for hire at parties,” she corrected him.
“I don’t.” He smiled, and she wondered how anyone ever thought he was anything other than fae-blood. He radiated energy. Maybe it was harder for people without fae ancestry to see it, but she’d glimpsed it even in photographs.
Lily resisted the urge to match his smile with one of her own and added, “Incidentally, flattering me is pointless. The sons of Daidí’s associates all try it to curry favor with him. I’m immune to praise.” She met his eyes, reminding herself who she was, reminding them both that she was not the shy creature she felt like in that moment when she’d first seen him. “The no-one-else-matters gaze is a nice touch, but Daidí hired you to perform. Tonight will be the beginning and the end of your contact with the notorious Mr. Abernathy, no matter what you do or say.”
“What if I want your favor?” Creed asked as he took a drink from a tray that a waiter held out to both of them.
Lily gave him a derisive smile, but said nothing.
Once the waiter was gone, and they were again alone in the crowd, Creed continued in a low voice, “You’re a hard girl to get to meet, Lilywhite. I took this job specifically to meet you. No publicity. No one outside of the guests here right now even knows I’m doing this.”
“Fantasies of the crime lord’s daughter on your arm to add to your image?”
Creed laughed. “Not quite.”
“I might not believe everything I read, but I’ve seen enough photos of you with different girls to know that you have two types: ones who add to your reputation and ones who are simply . . . unusual. I’m guessing your interest in Nick Abernathy’s daughter is about a fifty-fifty split between intrigue and business.”
Creed shook his head. “What if it isn’t Nicolas Abernathy’s daughter I wanted to meet, but Iana’s?”
Lily stilled. No one talked about her mother. It simply wasn’t done. Daidí’s considerable reputation for cold vengeance prevented it. “Those are dangerous words.”
“For people of our heritage, there are a lot of dangerous words,” Creed murmured as he leaned close and brushed a kiss on her cheek.
The feel of his skin on hers resonated through her body like she was a vessel for nature itself. If Creed Morrison’s words hadn’t confirmed that he was a fae-blood, his touch would have.
When he leaned back, he paused as if the contact had jolted him like it had her, but then a heartbeat later he was kissing her other cheek and saying, “If you want to talk privately later, I’d like that.”
Lily realized that he was pressing a small card into her hand. She curled her fingers around it so it wasn’t visible to anyone when he stepped back.
Whatever angle Creed Morrison had, Lily couldn’t risk honesty with him. The world was divided: humans made up most of the population, fae-bloods—those with any degree of fae ancestry—existed in secret in the human world, and true fae lived in the Hidden Lands. Possessing a drop of fae blood was enough to result in imprisonment within the human world, but the alternative was to to seek entrance to the Hidden Lands, to turn away from humanity. For many fae-bloods, it was safest to simply pass as human. The war carried out by the Queen of Blood and Rage meant that any of her subjects were considered war criminals by the human courts, even those who had not sworn fealty to the faery queen—or even met her.
“My only heritage is as Nick Abernathy’s heir,” Lily said levelly, suppressing the wince from the physical pain of the lie.
She was, in fact, more fae than human. She’d known that for years. Being so fae meant that the words hurt to utter, but admitting her ancestry to the wrong person could mean the kind of imprisonment that would try even the considerable limits of Daidí’s power. Lily wasn’t foolish enough to risk that with someone she’d just met.
“Liar,” Creed whispered.
“Fae-blood can’t be liars,” she said, twisting the truth just enough to ease the pain of a complete falsehood.
Creed’s expression went carefully blank and he said, “I’m not fae-blood either. Not a drop.” He paused, watching her study him, and then added, “You can learn to hide the physical pain of lying, Lilywhite; surely you know that as well as I do. I know what you are, what we are.”
There was nothing she could say to that, no retort that would disprove his blatant truth.
Creed glanced briefly at her hand, which was curled around his card so tightly that the edges of it were pressed into her skin. Casually, he reached out and trailed his fingers over the knuckles of her closed fist.