“Cute,” I said. “Good thing we’re not fighting in a war.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”
“Think about it.” I patted her head and walked away towards where the men were seated.
“Wait, Aran!” Sadie called after me. “I can’t tie my shoelaces with my nails.”
I ignored her and glared down at the kings, all three of which were still getting their legs massaged an hour later. Sadie and I had gotten ours for fifteen minutes.
“Really?” I asked with exasperation as I stared down at the atrocity that was Malum’s feet. “First, why are your toes so freakishly large? Second, what in the realms made you do that?”
He oozed male satisfaction.
A woman squealed behind me as she looked at his toes, and then there was a thud as if she’d fallen out of her chair.
He had the audacity to wink.
I prayed for patience.
“What do you think?” he asked gruffly.
I stared at the man who had voluntarily gotten “Arabella” spelled out across eight of his toenails. It was white letters on top of dark blue polish. He also had snowflakes on his pinky toes.
“That is stalkerish and creepy,” I finally said.
He admired his feet. “I like them.”
Exasperated, I turned to the other kings. “We all match,” Orion whispered with a smirk as he wiggled his glossy black nails.
Scorpius snapped, “Do mine look good? Someone tell me.” He sounded gruff, but he curled his fingers self-consciously, like he was embarrassed that he couldn’t see for himself.
“They look good,” Orion and I reassured him at the same time.
“Thanks.” He sighed with relief.
I leaned over and patted his arm. “Seriously, they look great. I really like black on you. I think it’s your color.”
He grunted and dragged his hands through his matching hair. A small smile curled the edges of his lips.
“Getting your name was more impressive,” Malum announced confidently.
Everyone ignored him.
A few minutes later—after I’d tipped my nail technician generously and thanked her again for her amazing service, tied Sadie’s shoelaces for her, and redone her ponytail because she couldn’t—we left the salon.
“Wait,” a woman called after us, and we stopped in the middle of the mall.
She blushed prettily and held out a slip of paper for Malum, then she turned and ran back into the salon.
All five of us gathered around the slip.
It was a drawing of a stick-figure on fire, inside a heart. A house address was written below the picture in big loopy handwriting and said, “Visit me anytime you want.”
I pointed at it. “I like how she drew the eyes looking in two-different directions. She really captured your manic energy.”
“She’s so real for that,” Sadie said.
Malum frowned. “I’m sure that was an error.”
“I don’t know,” Orion whispered. “It seems pretty accurate to me.”
Scorpius laughed.
Sadie pulled me down to her level and growled into my ear, “If he goes, I can kill him for you. I can make it clean. No evidence. Easy—only fourteen small payments, subject to twenty-percent interest.”
I rolled my eyes and yanked away from her.
“If I was going to kill someone, I’d do it myself,” I said. “Also, I can’t believe you wouldn’t do it for free. We’re supposed to be best friends.”
She scoffed and blew on her ridiculous nails. “Please, I’ve got to make a living somehow.”
I rolled my eyes at her antics.
There was a burning sound, and we pulled away from each other.
The paper went up in flames between Malum’s fingers, and he smirked at me like he’d proven something.
“Damn it,” Sadie swore. “There goes my business.”
“You’re canceled,” I said to her, then I turned to Malum. “And you’re still not forgiven.”
He bared his teeth, navy fingernails dancing with fire. “But I will be, and then you’ll be mine.”
“Ours,” Scorpius corrected as he gripped Malum by the back of his neck. “She’ll be ours.”
“Ours,” Orion whispered in agreement.
Sadie nodded. “She’s our special Aran.”
The men scowled at her.
I walked away.
Chapter 28
Aran
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Anhedonia （noun）： a psychological condition characterized by inability to experience pleasure in normally pleasurable acts.