Amour Amour (Aerial Ethereal #1)(51)

“I think I like the werewolves more than the vampires,” she says.

I’ve always been the opposite. “How come?”

She shrugs. “They seem to care about each other more.” She squints at the cover in thought. “Like why did Rafael leave his brother alone, knowing predators were surrounding the castle?”

“He was bloodthirsty, and he thought his brother could protect himself.”

Katya frowns deeper. “…but he didn’t even bring extra blood back.”

I never looked at it that way. “His brother survived,” I tell her. “Oh wait, did you get to that part yet?” I can tell she didn’t. I raise my hands. “Okay, I’m stopping myself before I spoil anything else.”

She smiles, not upset.

The door suddenly swings open without a knock. Luka slips in and shuts it. “Hey, Kat.” He reaches into his pocket and reveals three packs of Skittles. His pockets must be huge, is my first random, unhelpful thought. He tosses her the candy, and she gleefully gathers them in a pile.

“Don’t tell Nik,” he says. I wonder if he stole them. “And don’t get another cavity. He’ll blame me.”

She gives him a look. “Like I can help that.”

“Chew slower,” he refutes.

I try not to laugh. There’s no way the pace you eat stops a cavity from forming, but it’s kind of cute that he’d suggest it to his little sister. And by cute, I do mean the “unsexy friend” type.

“I’ll share with Thora.” Katya nudges my hip with her foot and throws me a packet.

Luka leans his shoulders against the blue Celeste poster, scrutinizing me more closely, like a cop would a suspect. I guess it’s only fair. I’m stepping into his world without his permission.

“Are you going to rat me out?” He glares. And a Kotova glare is harsher than most, I’ve found.

“For Skittles?” I say like it’s a silly notion. Though it’s more than that—he’s gauging how loyal I am to Nikolai. And maybe reading into that too, for a relationship status. Or maybe I’m going crazy, assuming things that shouldn’t be assumed. Like Nikolai does. Okay, I may need to reevaluate my thought process soon.

“Yeah,” he says tensely, “for Skittles.” It’s like Skittles has become a code word. I’d be funnier if he wasn’t so serious right now.

“I won’t rat you out for Skittles,” I assure him.

After a long cagey moment, he finally nods, accepting my answer. Then the door cracks open again, this time Timo slides in, strands of brown hair touching his eyelashes. “Anyone have a hundred I can borrow?”

I frown and accidentally blurt out, “A hundred bucks?”

His lips rise, stuffing his hands into his leather jacket. “If I could gamble with a hundred hugs, you know I would, Thora James.” Yeah—I imagine John not liking that turn of events very much.

Luka stays quiet, but Katya reaches for her silver-studded clutch on the nearby dresser.

“Or a fifty.” Timo checks the Marilyn Monroe desk clock, antsy.

“You should really save up for Saint Petersburg,” Katya tells him, unzipping her wallet.

“I’ve already been to Saint Petersburg.”

“As a baby. It doesn’t count.” Katya leisurely inspects each credit card slot, avoiding the cash one. I think she’s purposefully prolonging this conversation, to have extra company, even for a moment’s time. “Nikolai let Luka visit when he was eighteen, and he said in two years, he’d let me go with you—”

“I’m not going to Russia,” he cuts her off. “I like it here, Kat. We all like it here. Right, Thora?”

I raise my hands, pleading the fifth. “I just got here.” I uneasily stand from Katya’s bed, afraid to be caught within the crossfire of a sibling fight. Since Tanner is so much younger than me, my relationship with my little brother is distanced at best. Sure, I love him, but we never hung out as friends. I’ve never been a part of close, in-your-face annoyances that brothers and sisters stir up.

I’m wading in new territory. Which has been my Vegas experience since day one. At least it’s not that unexpected anymore, some positives there.

Without peeking into the cash slot, Katya slowly zips her wallet and even buttons the flap, as though sealing Timo’s fate. “I have no money.”

This isn’t going to end well.

Timo’s face falls. “Come on, please. Don’t do this.”

She sticks her earbuds in, ignoring him.

“Katya,” he pleads. “You don’t want to go to Saint Petersburg. What’s there?”

Her cheeks flush red, able to hear him. “Family.”

Timo shakes his head wildly, his earring swaying. “Your family is here. Have you even talked to Luka about his trip?”

Luka shifts his weight apprehensively. “Stop, Timo.”

But Katya takes the bait, pulling out her earbuds. Her orb-like eyes tentatively flicker to me, for reassurance, I think. As though I can tell her the right path. I can’t. That’s for her to decide. I’m honestly just a bystander, a voyeur in the Kotova backstage experience. This time, I think I did purchase a ticket to it.

“What happened?” Katya asks her older brother.