And thereheis, on the sofa beside her. Dagon is a man who’s handsome in a strange way—thin lips, brown eyes, features that are just a littletoosharp to be classically attractive. His skin is fair to the point of beingtoofair, and there’s an energy swirling around him that advertises sheer menace.
I expect for shit to go nuclear immediately. Ember will recognize me, and if she’s loyal to Dagon, she’ll tell him exactly who I am. I can’t imagine what that piece of shit might’ve done to earn her loyalty, but she’s here withhim. I assume she has her reasons.
But when Ember’s eyes meet mine, there’s nothing in them. No flash of recognition or confusion. No hope, no fear, no emotions whatsoever. She runs her gaze up and down my body, and it takes me a few heartbeats to realize she’scasingme. Searching for weapons or anything that would make me seem like a threat.
I want to part my lips and yell at her. I want to ask what the hell is going on, or whether she’s a doppelganger of some sort who looksexactly likemyEmber but lacks the emotions of the vivacious girl I spent the best years of my life around.
I almost lose it when she looks away from me, dismissing me as a threat. I’m missing a huge chunk of information on her—at least half a decade worth of it, and something in the last five years has turned this girl from my future into Dagon’s…something. It better not begirlfriend, or I’ll punish her so fucking hard she won’t sit forweeks.
“Thomas, was it?” Dagon’s voice, quiet and hiss-like, slithers through the air and curls around my neck like a noose. Something about him is so profoundlywrong.I peel my eyes away from Ember, shelving my questions and confusion so I can focus in on Dagon.
My plan is simple. First, kill the fucker that I’m certain has something to do withmyEmber falling off the face of the earth. Second, get Ember away from here. She doesn’t look like she’s expecting a rescue or evenneedsa rescue, which once again makes me wonder what the fuck is going on here, but now isn’t the time for wondering. It’s the time for action.
“Yeah,” I lie, offering Dagon a sloppy smile. “Uh… why did you call me here?”
“You’ve cost my operation the better part of half a million dollars in the last hour alone.” Dagon smiles a soul-chilling smile. “I thought you were at the very least worth meeting.”
“Sorry ‘bout that, man,” I say with a hapless shrug, as if to saywhat can you do. “Just wanted to—”
“Don’t care.” Dagon cuts me off with a yawn. “Have a seat. Drink?”
“Uh, yeah. Whiskey, please. Neat.”
Dagon snaps his fingers at Ember.
The fuck?
She stands from her seat robotically and walks over to the liquor cabinet against the back wall, selecting a crystal tumbler. My gaze alternates between her full, round, extremely fuckable ass and her profile as I watch her pour me a drink.
Dagon catches me staring. Rather than getting upset, a serpentine smile curls his lips. “Pretty, isn’t she?” he asks casually. “Unfortunately for you, my soon to be fiancée is also off-limits.”
Ember’s movements falter for a fraction of a heartbeat. Her posture tenses. I can’t see her face, and I’d give an arm to watch her expression at Dagon’s words. The effect they have on me is immediate and debilitating; tension threatens to tighten my muscle, and an animalistic roar is trapped in my throat. This piece of shit is planning to get engaged tomyEmber?
No.
Over my dead fucking body.
She disappeared out from under me five years ago; now, she’s in my sights again. I plan to find out exactly why she doesn’t seem to know who the hell I am. In any case, it doesn’t matter; not now. I need to act first and ask questions later.
“Sure, man,” I say, holding up my hands in a placating gesture. Ember turns around, holding the crystal tumbler with a few fingers of liquor, and closes the distance between us. My gut, balls, and spine all tighten at once. The dress swishes with each of her movements, showing off more hints of creamy skin that’d lookdamngood with my cum slathered over it.
She stops in front of me and extends the glass. I take it, and my fingers brush over hers. I catch her gaze, looking for hints of recognition, ofsomething. Electricity shoots up my arm from our contact, and Ember seems to feel it too, because she jerks her hands away andmeets my gaze. Her own eyes are filled with confusion and something that might be…contempt?But no recognition.
For the millionth time tonight, I have to ask myself what the fuck is going on here.
“You ever play professionally?” Dagon asks me, apparently not catching my moment with his ‘soon to be fiancée’. Probably for the best, but still infuriating. If he wanted to keep my Ember, he’d put her on amuchtighter leash.
Why doesn’t she remember me?Or is she just putting on a front?
“I haven’t,” I respond, casting a brief, analytical gaze around the room. The manager has flitted off somewhere, and there are only three soldiers here with Dagon. I retrieved the gun I hid in the men’s bathroom about an hour ago, so taking them out shouldn’t be an issue.
It will, however, be messy as fuck.
I mentally start a countdown. Dagon’s relaxed; he doesn’t recognize me or see me as a threat. Now’s the time to take him off guard.
Two minutes to go before I unleash hell and try to get out of here unscathed.
“You’re very good.” Dagon says it with a hint of derision, sipping his drink. His eyes move to Ember as she retakes her seat on the armchair, silent as a grave. No sooner does her ass hit the cushion than does he snap at heragain, like she’s adog, and hold up his drink. “One for me as well.”
