Twisted Pretty Things (Shadows of London #1)

by Ariana Nash

he didn’t notice me approach, giving me a chance to take him in. Which, honestly, was always a fucking treat.

He was so far out of my league, we were on different continents.

His intense gaze could smolder the pants off a priest—such wasted talent.

Kempthorne’s lips twitched with a tiny hint of personality that had my tired, foolish heart tripping over a beat. The twitch was his version of what would have been a full-blown smile on anyone else. Was it wrong that I wanted to see that smile turn into a genuine grin?

“How do I look? Like Kempthorne’s rent boy?” Gina snorted. “Hot AF.” She sighed. “All the gays in Soho are gorgeous. It’s so unfair.”

I rolled my Italian eyes—courtesy of my father, who had tried to beat the gay out of me. Clearly, that hadn’t worked.

All of us bunking under the same roof meant secrets were hard to keep—unless your name was Kempthorne. He hoarded secrets like the rest of us hoarded the office pens.

“No rain tonight,” Kempthorne said. “No, looks dry.” Well, this was fucking awkward.

Throw me into a warzone with psychic assassins, government-sponsored latent-sucking leeches, and I was in the zone, but stick me in a posh car with Kempthorne and I forgot how to brain.

I just hoped his friends didn’t mind an East End army lad eating their hors d'oeuvres because I planned to devour all the mini morsels.

The Thames always looked sexier at night, when it was an oily line snaking through London instead of a brown soup.

This might have been the first time I’d seen him dressed in a tux and bow tie and he fucking dazzled

Oh. Right. Okay. I could run with that. Male friends going to a fancy dinner together. Uh huh. That was a thing the wealthy did?

I was his latent trophy. I’d been used for worse.

Kempthorne was a surprise I hadn’t seen coming. Not only did he outright smile, but he laughed a deliciously rich laugh. I hadn’t even known he could laugh. I’d come to a party with a stranger. Who

Anything to distract me from the very visceral feel of his hand burning its way through my hired tux.

I picked up another colorful miniature meal.

Joanna looked like someone’s posh grandma, the tall, rake-like kind who smiled as she planted poisonous plants in her manicured garden to poison the neighborhood cats.

“No exit this time,” he whispered, raking his gaze over me as though undressing me with his eyes. I hadn’t forgotten his reaction in the alley. This was definitely foreplay.

A cut above his right eye dribbled blood down the side of his face. He should get that looked at before it ruined all his pretty.

My gut screamed apologize, my head said fuck that.

he kinda has tunnel vision sometimes and he forgets we’re not in the tunnel with him, yah know?”

“I just called the boss a prick while he was standing behind me.” I groaned. “That just happened?”

It had been a good run while it had lasted. I’d tried to make it work, but like most things in my life, it had crashed and burned. Latents didn’t get decent jobs with good people, we got sent into warzones and treated like cannon fodder. I’d been a fool to think Cecil Court would last.

She laughed loud and free, reminding me that some days, the sun did shine and there were good people left who still looked out for one another.

In pressed trousers and a crisp shirt, he looked good enough to eat, reminding me exactly why I tried to avoid post-shower Kempthorne.

he was just a guy browsing books who happened to be ridiculously gorgeous.

I asked, hoping to see his smile again—the real one, not the fake one.

I often forgot we were the same age behind all the flashy cars and classy suits, but his smile was real and reminded me we weren’t so very different.

All his pretty had etched into an intense frown.

Christ, he’d shown me his soul pinned to the wall and I’d recoiled.

There was something firm about his tanned arms. For a man who didn’t do manual labor, he carried strength in the way he moved.

I was not about to tell my boss how effortlessly attractive he was.

“I’ve got you,” I told Penny again. “You’re safe.” Those were the only words latents needed to hear. If only someone had said them to me all those years ago.

I twisted, letting them all see the sizzling, crackling handful of grenades. They recoiled, losing interest in mob justice now they had to fight.

He was so damn gorgeous I struggled to think around him at the best of times. This was not the best of times.

If I’d learned anything in the military, it was that people in power rarely told the whole story.

I soaked up the chatter and the time with this new kind of strange adopted family I’d found, painfully aware it probably wouldn’t