I gritted my teeth. “I was running from Brody.”
I stomped into our kitchen and helped myself to some water.
The sound of people standing came from behind me.
“You don’t have to stop on my account.” I took a gulp, and the cold liquid eased the burn in my stomach. “I probably won’t understand what you’re doing anyway.”
Someone scoffed.
A knock sounded at my door. The bald man moved his hand to a massive, serrated knife at his belt, and Erick stepped forward, smoothly covering the motion.
“Get the door, Quinn,” Erick commanded evenly.
I gulped down my water, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in my own room.
“I’ll get the door.” I ducked my head and scampered down the stairs.
Rowan stood there in his full blacks. “Quinn, you’re white as a sheet. What happened?”
“Ah, your enforcer friend.” Erick’s voice drifted down the stairs before he joined us, holding the door so I couldn’t open it any further.
“Brody, unfortunately, gave her a scare,” Erick explained.
I drew in a breath, ready to tell him not to speak for me, but Erick gave me a light kick to the calf, a silent warning to stay out of it. Before I could react, Rowan’s expression hardened. His gaze burned hot enough to sear. He shoved the door open, forcing Erick to stumble back, then delivered a matching kick to my roommate’s shin.
The sound cracked through the air. Erick froze, more stunned than hurt, his mouth opening in disbelief.
Rowan didn’t wait for a response. He turned and strode up the stairs, taking them two at a time, his shoulders tight with quiet fury.
I blinked after him, caught between shock and an entirely inappropriate urge to smile. It was petty. Childish. And extremely satisfying.
“Why are all the men around you unstable, Quinn?” Erick snarled.
I huffed. “You’re my roommate, you sure you want to ask that?”
Erick let out a dramatic sigh and ran after Rowan, while I followed at a more reasonable pace.
“This is very uncalled for,” Erick said as he crested the top. “And an invasion of my domicile. An Adler Michelson residence. I will take this up with the Architect himself.”
Rowan ignored Erick. With his hand resting on his sword hilt, he addressed Erick’s friends. “How did you get through our walls?”
“I invited them.” Erick stepped forward with his hand up like a schoolboy. “Ashkar here is my cousin, just stopping through, and Emil is his power slave. You know how close those dynamics run.”
Emil bowed his head, further hiding his face in his hood.
Rowan held out his hand, and Erick placed a scrawl in it. After a glance through, Rowan handed the scrawl back. “Your documents are in order.”
“See,” Erick grinned before turning to his guests. “The Architect shut down The Rooster, in person, even. I’ve gotten a few messages saying I’m missing a show. Shall we move on for the time being?”
I looked at his friends again, only to see the power slave staring right at me. Both his forest-green eyes glimmered, and a slip of matching hair fell over his face. Erick and his cousin moved for the door, and Emil turned, just a little slower. Each step of his rubber-soled shoes squeaked on my floor. Those looked expensive for a slave, but only because I knew mine were expensive for me.
The three vanished from view before the door thudded shut. A little black bug zipped toward me. Instead of buzzing, a high-pitched flapping sounded loud in my suddenly too-quiet dorm.
I swatted at the bug before turning to Rowan. “What’s a power slave?”
My big, soon-to-be boyfriend, hopefully, released his sword hilt, and a tremor passed through his massive frame. His eyes brimmed with raw, vulnerable fear.
Rowan pulled me into his chest and squeezed me hard. “You’re not hurt?”
