Meeting his gaze, I raise my hands in surrender. “I know,” I blow out. “I know.”
“Here.” He shoves a black garment bag at me. “Your tux.”
“Tux?” The word comes out harsh.
“It’s a ball. You can’t wear your motorcycle boots and T-shirt.” He smirks.
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“That I am, my friend. It’s my right, having known you all my life.”
“And we’re sure Umbria will be attending?” I ask.
He dips his chin. “She’ll be there. Bronx and Lex confirmed that she’s on the list.”
“Bronx and Lex?” I repeat. “The identical brothers from New York?”
“The very same. They’ve been hired as bouncers,” he replies, with a slight smirk at the idea.
“Our host acquired gargoyles to watch the door? Interesting,” I mutter.
Tag wiggles his brows. “Wait until you see this really cool stone statue trick they do.”
“Can’t wait,” I grumble, eyeballing the garment bag.
With a heavy sigh, I unzip the bag, being careful not to allow any water to get on the fine Italian silk. I feel around, my brows furrowing when I don’t find what I am searching for.
I throw a questioning look at Tag. “Where is the invite?”
“On its way.”
I eye him and curb my desire to lash out. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I exhale.
“Patience, Your Highness,” he counters.
“This isn’t a game,” I growl.
“No shit!” he bites out and grabs the bag back, zipping it up. “Christ, you’re an asshole today.”
With a curse, I begin to pace, attempting to calm my nerves. Ever since being assigned to Umbria, I’ve been a moody, brooding jerk. I shouldn’t be taking out my frustration or anger on Tag. He’s done nothing to merit my cruelty. As second in our class when we graduated from the Academy, Tag was assigned as my royal protector. Not only is the appointment an honor, but it’s pretty fucking awesome to have him continue to have my back like he always has over the years. And how have I repaid him? By being a complete jackass these past few months.
“Tag, listen—” I begin but get cut off by a bright beam of light that begins to glow between us, appearing out of nowhere. “What the fu—”
“Right on cue,” Tag says in a tickled voice.
He grabs and twists my wrist, forcing me to open my palm. Within seconds, the light solidifies and morphs into a brilliant piece of paper, fluttering down and landing in my hand.
My confused gaze meets his with curiosity. “What the hell is this?”
Tag motions with his chin for me to read it. “Your invitation.”
I lift up the piece of parchment and read the elegant calligraphy: The Monster Ball.
“Flip it over,” he orders, and I do.
“Just as the moon has brought me to you, so shall the moon bring you to the ball,” I read out loud. Underneath, the date, October 31st, is inscribed, and below that, The Witching Hour.
Tag tilts his head, assessing me as I examine the piece of paper.
“Why so cryptic?”
“It’s how our host does things,” he answers and hands me back the tux.
“Who is this mysterious host, anyway?” I ask.
Tag shrugs. “No one knows for sure. I guess that’s all part of the fun.”
“Peculiar,” I mutter, and place my hand on the tux.
As soon as we both are touching the garment bag, Tag teleports us back to my loft in Paris.
I watch as he makes his way into the kitchen, opens the fridge, and grabs a beer. Removing the cap, he strolls over to the couch and flops down onto it, crossing his legs at the ankles. After taking a long sip from the bottle, he tilts it, motioning to the clothing bag still in my hand.
His smirk turns knowing, and with a wink, he says, “You’d better get changed, Cinderella. You have a ball to attend and a fairy-demon-queen-girl-being to win over.”
With a heavy sigh, I look around my loft. It’s all an open space with very little privacy.
“Are you going to watch me undress, or can I get a bit of privacy?”
He crosses his arms and eyes me. Yeah, he’s not fucking going anywhere.
“Do you really think I am going to blow off the ball? And my assignment?” I question.
“Yes,” Tag responds in an entertained voice.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“That is what you do, Striker.” He sits back and studies me. “You run. I chase.”
He’s right. I run from responsibility. Tag forces me to face it. It’s our pattern.
“Hell,” I whisper under my breath and jerk off my shirt, tossing it at his face.
With a dark chuckle, Tag settles further into the couch, getting comfortable, and throws the damp shirt to the side. Irritated with this entire situation, I turn toward the hallway to go shower.
Slamming the bathroom door, I turn on the shower and let the steam fill the room around me. For a moment, I glare at myself in the fog-covered mirror. This protector assignment is already grating on my last nerve, and it hasn’t even begun. It doesn’t help that my best friend is either going to torture me or kick my ass the whole time I am assigned to Umbria.
Meeting my own reflection, I inhale. I’ll be okay. As long as I don’t let her in, I’m good.
I sift through my emotions, grab every shred of hatred and resentment that I can find in my body, and use it to protect myself. Each becomes a plate of armor to shield me.
Umbria is just an assignment.
I am Striker Gallagher, heir to the gargoyle race. Their future king. And as such, I won’t be getting attached to the queen of the Caballucos del Diablu. Ever. The. Fucking. End.
Isle of Darkness Novella
Available Now
New Adult Paranormal Romance
Acknowledgments
There are so many people to thank for this one! First, I would like to thank all of you who patiently waited for Gage’s story to release. I hope that you’ve enjoyed it. To my husband and daughter, thank you for loving me and sharing your time with the stories I write. Hang Le, thank you for the amazing cover and #TeamGage logo. And for simply being my squirrel. Liz Ferry, thank you for making this story shine. Valerie Ackerman, thank you so much for proofing! Pot&Kettle, thank you so much for writing and singing Gage’s song, Reckless, and for the amazing book trailer. Kiki Chatfield and the entire Next Step PR team, thank you for having me be part of your author family. A HUGE thank you to Randi’s Rebels. Y’all are the best reader group a girl could ask for. #RebelsRock A special thank you to Rebels Jennifer Mullen, who named Alderic and Itzair; Paola Ramirez, who named Taavi; Hailey Harpole, who named Locryn; and Lisa Lopez, who named Coventina! As always, thanks to my family and friends; I love you all. To the readers, thank you for reading my stories. I’m honored to be part of your literary world.
About the Author
Randi Cooley Wilson is an award-winning, bestselling author of The Revelation Series, The Royal Protector Academy Novels, The Dark Soul Trilogy, IF, and the upcoming Knightress Series.
Randi’s books have been featured on Good Morning America, British Glamour Magazine, USA Today, and in the Emmys Gifting Suite. Her books range in genre, and include contemporary romance, urban/high fantasy, and paranormal romance, for both young adult and adult readers. She resides in Massachusetts with her daughter and husband.
Visit randicooleywilson.com for more information about Randi or her books and projects.
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Dark Paradise: A Revelation Series Novel (The Revelation Series Book 6) Page 25