Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 220
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 215301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1077(@200wpm)___ 861(@250wpm)___ 718(@300wpm)
“Nightgown attire,” I whisper back. “And not like Little House on the Prairie. More like Gwen Van der Holt.” I name one of our party friends.
Eliot keeps his face impassive. “She wants a reaction out of me, Beckett, and Charlie?”
“No, dude,” I whisper. “It’s something else. Like I don’t think this is going to be a hilarious thing.”
“Fuck.” He takes the wine out of my hand. “You think Charlie figured it out already?”
Charlie is whispering with Beckett the same way I am with Eliot.
“No,” I murmur. “I think we’re steps ahead.” I’m telling myself that, at least.
Jane is careful with her feathers around the candles.
I have a sudden light-bulb moment. Leaning back into Eliot, I whisper, “If Jane knows something, then what if she dressed up for Audrey?” Because no way did she dress up for me. That was merely an unfunny coincidence.
Eliot eyes our sister. “Bird couture?”
I stifle a laugh. “She looks like Mister Feathers. Sort of. Maybe Audrey is going to babysit Ben and Harriet’s cockatoo.”
“Maybe.”
Talk of the bird at our apartment reminds me of Phoenix, who I thought was still there. I start typing out a message on my phone. He looked so spent when I left, like truly exhausted in every sense of the word. I don’t know how he forced his body out of my bed.
TOM CARRAWAY
You’re having dinner with the demon?
I send it to my boyfriend and flip my phone face down next to my place setting. The room is dead silent. Bizarre energy. Jane gives Audrey an encouraging nod, and she gives one back.
Eliot points the wine bottle between our sisters. “What is this fowl play?”
“Fowl as in poultry,” I chime in, opening and closing my lighter.
“Is chicken on the menu, sisters?” Eliot questions.
“Perhaps,” Audrey says. “You might all be chicken-shit scared.”
Ben snorts out a swig of water.
I’ve never heard her say chicken-shit. Normally I would rise with applause, but I am disturbed. “This is disturbing behavior now,” I tell her.
“Just wait and watch,” she sips wine.
“Ominous,” Eliot and I say in unison, but I sound tenser than he does.
Jane takes a cautious sip of sparkling water.
Charlie rubs harshly at his eyes, not entertaining Audrey or this mystery, and Beckett rises to pile green beans and carrots on both of their plates. They speak too softly in French to each other. I can’t pick apart their words.
I am really baffled. Eliot swigs the wine, then passes it back to me. Yeah, I’m going to need that. I drink more straight from the bottle. The dry, smoky flavor hits my throat.
Our parents enter, but their presence can’t even cut the thick tension. I ignore the clench of my stomach. Neither Mom nor Dad seem surprised by the arctic blast frosting the table.
They both take their places at either head. No usual banter. No verbal insults. I almost want to fucking leave.
Especially when Dad says, “Opening remarks have commenced.”
Eliot and Audrey rise to their feet at the exact same time, so forcibly, so quickly, that their chairs are shoved backward and clatter to the ground.
I’m holding my breath.
Eliot normally takes the lead on opening remarks. It’s not so much a rule as it is a tradition, and Audrey loves traditions. I’m unsettled she’d even want to break it.
“You always go first,” Audrey tells him pointedly.
“Claim it then.” Eliot extends a hand to me. I fork over the wine, and he fills his goblet to the brim, then raises it to our little sister. “First to finish off their wine wins.”
Determination cinches her blue eyes, and she raises hers back. “I accept.” They don’t break eye contact as they both start chugging the wine as fast as they can. Crimson liquid drips down Eliot’s jaw, down Audrey’s chin.
Our little sister keeps up with him for five seconds before Eliot outpaces her. He sets his goblet on the table first, but Audrey doesn’t quit. She keeps going, her throat bobbing, until she empties her glass.
Her chin, neck, and collarbones glisten with red wine. Eliot’s the same.
He arches his brows, an impressed smile flicking across his lips. “The floor is yours,” he waves her on and lowers himself in his seat.
“Thank you,” Audrey says into a tiny nod. She takes the cloth napkin Jane offers her and dabs her chest and neck. “I have a very important announcement. As you all know, starting in the fall, I will be a senior at Dalton Academy. I spoke with my advisor, and I was able to get on track to graduate this December.”
Holy shit.
Eliot maintains a nonreaction. I teeter too far back on my chair legs, but Eliot grips the wooden frame so I don’t go down.
“You’re graduating early?” Ben asks with furrowed brows.
She nods. “Like Charlie.”
“Not like me,” Charlie glares at her—like a vicious, soul-decaying glare. “I skipped the third and fourth grade.”