I sat there, still in disbelief, as she walked to the bathroom naked, hips swaying. My gaze tracked her without my consent, taking in the curve of her ass. The slope of her shoulders. The slight turn of her head as she paused in the doorway.
A soft murmur slipped from her lips. The words were low, almost too quiet, threaded with a rhythm that raised the hair on my arms. I could not catch the language, could not grab the sounds. They slid away from my mind when I tried to hold them, leaving behind a cold prickle along my spine.
She stepped into the bathroom and the door remained half open. The shower turned on a second later, water hitting tile in a steady drum.
The room fell silent except for the water.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
I sat there for a moment, still naked, still catching my breath as my throat throbbed and my chest burned. The marks she left on me stung and they felt wrong. They did not feel like the usual aftermath of rough sex with the woman I loved.
The phone buzzed again.
I dragged in a breath, forced my muscles to move and reached for it. Bullet’s name flashed on the screen.
I answered. “Yeah.”
“Hey man, you comin’ tonight?” His voice came through, easy and amused. Background noise filled the line, music and distant laughter, the usual pre-party chaos.
“What’s tonight?” I asked. My brain still sat in that bed, replaying Grace’s laugh on a loop.
“The clubhouse Halloween party, it’s being held at Cherry Smoke” he said. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”
Cherry Smoke was a biker bar tucked behind a crumbling brick wall a few blocks from the Quarter. It was owned by Ajax, the club’s Secretary. The place was more than a bar, it was a place for patched members to drink, talk business, and breathe without eyes on their backs. And it had become a favorite for many in the Quarter.
I had to admit that having Ajax throw a Halloween party was a little off kilter for him since the asshole was so damn anti anytype of festivity, but I had a feeling a skirt had something to do with all this. If it wasn’t an Old Lady asking for a favor, then it was a woman who had gotten under his skin. Now that was going to be a sight to see.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered, rubbing a hand over my face. My throat protested the contact. “I completely forgot.”
“If you can’t make it, I’ll let Jameson know,” Bullet offered. “You been off-grid for days anyway. I’m sure he’ll get it.”
“Nah,” I said, staring toward the open bathroom door, the curl of steam starting to slip out. “I think it’ll do Grace some good to get out. I think she’s been cooped up too long. I’ll tell her.”
“All right then,” Bullet said, relief in his tone. “I’ll meet you in the Quarter. In front of the Mydnight Witch. We can walk over to the Lucky Dragon together.”
“Sounds good, brother.”
We exchanged the usual words, then I hung up. The phone felt heavier in my hand than it should.
The water kept running.
That gut feeling in my stomach twisted again, low and insistent. The same feeling I got before a bad job, before a possession went sideways, before someone bled out on a church floor.
I stood.
Every step toward the bathroom felt deliberate. The floor was cool under my feet. The steam thickened the air, coating my tongue with the taste of soap and hot water. The humming reached me before I got to the door.
Grace was humming.
A tune with a strange pattern, notes that did not settle into anything familiar. There was no comfort in it. The pitches were high where there should have been falls, pauses that felt too long, shifts that scraped against my nerves. The sound warpedin the steam, stretched and sharpened until it became something else.
Then it broke.
Her hum turned into a laugh. Short, distorted bursts. Not human. Not fully. It bounced off tile and shower curtain, twisting as it traveled.
My hand shot out before I could talk myself down. I grabbed the shower curtain and yanked it open.
Grace stood under the spray, water running over her hair, down her face, over her shoulders, along the curves of her body. Soap clung to her skin in thin white trails, sliding down to drip off her breasts, off the tips of her nipples, down her stomach. Her eyes cut to me, sharp and bright.
