Charlotte by Mima

Author:Mima
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pocket Star

The beauty of the amber flute was rare and elegant . . . so not her. And Charlotte was dedicating herself to being so not herself tonight. Why shouldn’t practical, big-boned, plain Charlotte hold this delicate beauty? She smiled up at Ivor, swinging the glass from an upturned wrist, as a lady of the manor might if she’d been holding such art all her life.

Ivor lifted one brow as he gestured at her glass with his meat-stick. “A powerful drink for my powerful partner.”

Wrinkling her nose, she gave it a cautious sniff. “I actually don’t drink much. What is it?” It smelled good but definitely alcoholic.

A loud metallic clatter surprised her enough that the drink spilled over her hand. A tall woman in green silk landed beside Ivor. She had dragonfly wings, nearly as wide as she was tall. The veins were a delicate, mazelike tracery.

She scowled at the flute in Charlotte’s hand. “The future is nothing to toy with. I hate that they put out the milk of Anyanwu every year.” Her wings clattered.

Charlotte moved back. Nothing the woman said made sense.

Ivor angled himself between them. “How unfortunate you are not in charge of refreshments, Yossev.”

The woman cocked her pointed chin at him. Her eyes were as green as her skirt. When she narrowed them at Ivor, they looked poisonous. But then her gaze swept down Ivor’s form. Charlotte tightened her grip on the flared crystal. This woman wanted her date. She stepped up next to Ivor.

The woman sighed. “Good night, Wolf Prince.” Without even a jump, her wings lifted her up and off, the sound harsh over the orchestra.

Ivor relaxed. He considered Charlotte for a moment. Feeling self-conscious, she stared back. He smiled slowly. She answered with a shy grin of her own. He nibbled his meat, and her nipples went hard again. Raising the glass, she went to take a sip but stopped. “Milk of Woowoo?”

Ivor chuckled that low male laugh. “Perhaps you’ll get flashes, but not everyone does.”

“Flashes? Of what?”

“The future.” He scanned the crowd, one hand raised to a tall man in a tuxedo.

Contemplating the lovely glass and liquid doubtfully, Charlotte refused to continue parroting him. The man came over and Ivor bent down to whisper to her, “Excuse me, for just one moment.”

Her eyes bulged. “Don’t leave me here.” She was underdressed and outclassed and she knew it.

He inclined his head. “You are under my protection here.” The two shook hands and leaned into quiet conversation. Charlotte looked around the ballroom again, making sure she was in arm’s reach. There were people with strange noses and ears, contacts of glowing orange, and fingers that had clever diodes at the end, so when they talked sparkles shimmered in the wake of their movement. This crowd was way above the glow sticks she was used to seeing on Halloween.

She wondered how much motorized dragonfly wings cost, and thought perhaps they were worth more than Gram’s house.

“Are you going to drink that?” The girl who appeared at her elbow was lovely, frail and slim.

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