ENTWINED

Chapter Two

I was about to ring the bell at the grand entrance to the Ambrosia house when someone turned the lock. I hoped it was Leopold, the gardener's handsome son, who might answer the door again. Last time I hadn't been prepared and had parsley from my salad stuck between my teeth. Leopold had awkwardly pointed it out. Zeus, it was embarrassing. But I had learned my lesson and ran my tongue along the front of my teeth to make sure nothing was stuck in there. When the door swung open, I had my most dazzling smile on . . . only to have it dissolve immediately.

The gods loved to torture me—always throwing obstacles in my way. This time it was in the form of a six-foot-tall guy with tousled brown hair and mesmerizing green eyes who was looking down at me from his lofty height. Vladimir Ambrosia, Kris's older brother. I tried to stand up a little taller, stretching my five-foot-two frame and refusing to show deference to a Pure Royal, despite having spent my whole life being trained to.

The last time we had been in the same place was two years ago during Hermaea—a festival with an athletic contest held in honor of Hermes. Vladimir had come to support Kris, who played tennis. I had been cheering on my best friend, minding my own business, and doing my best to ignore him. But before the match was over, we had managed to bicker. As usual, he had started it.

I still don't understand why people who know nothing about tennis feel the need to shout out during the game as if they know what they are talking about. It just makes them look stupid.

Excuse me?! His passive-aggressive comment was directed at me. I'm only here to support my best friend, who also happens to be your sister. Got a problem with that?

Yes, if you're going to shout "That's cheating" like you did a minute ago when you know nothing about the rules.

My finger shot toward Kris's opponent. But what she did was cheating!

It actually wasn't. And I'm simply pointing out how embarrassing it is for Kristen to have to listen to you shouting ridiculous accusations without any legitimate basis.

After the game, I asked Kris and she agreed with me that her opponent hadn't been playing fair. Vlad was unnecessarily being an ass.

That wasn't the first time he had acted like a smart-ass either. He always provoked me like that. He started with something condescending that triggered my anger and then would somehow manage to make me look like a brat for arguing without knowing when to stop.

I hated him so much.

Holding my stance, I looked up. Way up to his thin lips, straight nose, and green eyes that reminded me so much of damp moss after the autumn rain. Had he always been this handsome? He was better looking than I'd remembered. It irked me to realize that I didn't find his face repulsive.

"Just my luck," Vlad said flatly.

What. A. Jerk.

"Can you please be less of an asshole and get Kris for me?" I said.

"There's a gadget called a phone, you know. We're not living in the Golden Age, Avy. We've evolved, technology has evolved. You don't have four legs and four arms anymore either."

It seemed that since we had last seen each other he had perfected his irritating tone and saved it just for me. And to make it worse, he had used the nickname that I severely hated. It sounded so much like gravy—which was perhaps where he had derived it from. What was so difficult about saying Avery or Ave?

"I've called her a hundred times, but she isn't picking up. Is she home?"

"Have you ever considered that maybe there is a reason why she didn't answer any of your bajillion phone calls?" he said. "Maybe she needs some time away from you."