“Erh… come again?” His handsome grin should have unnerved me this time.
“Trust me, I have known Walder a long time, he may act as though he isn’t interested in what brought you here, but curiosity will win out eventually…” he paused to lean in close before finishing,
“…And why not look hot as holy fuckery whilst indulging him in story time.” My eyes widened at that, and all I got as a way of goodbye was a wink and an ominous…
“Save me a dance, Miss Eliza Shadowmere.” Which was when I realized,
I had never told him my name.
21
WHEN LOVE IS TAKEN
OBLIVION
“What do you mean she’s gone missing?”
The words left me sharper than intended. My gaze already fixed on Torin as he stood opposite me from where I was leaning back against my desk. But I didn’t wait for him to elaborate, already reaching for my phone as a cold, familiar irritation settled beneath my skin. One that had nothing to do with panic and everything to do with the fact that this should not have been possible.
Iridessa never went missing.
I tapped her contact, lifting the phone to my ear as the line rang once, twice and then cut off. My jaw tightened as I lowered the device, my expression remaining otherwise unchanged. Although the silence that followed stretched just long enough to carry weight.
“When did she lose contact?”
“Last night, she was due to check in. She didn’t,” Torin replied without delay. A beat passed, my gaze dropping briefly to the screen in my hand, frowning like it was the enemy.
“Then I agree, something is wrong,” I said, my jaw tight, as I gritted my teeth. Because Iridessa always maintained contact, like everyone else on my council, when on a mission. I was already turning that thought over in my mind when the sharp rise of voices from below cut cleanly through the moment.
It wasn’t the usual hum of the club, nor the controlled chaos I allowed within my walls. But something rougher was escalating in a way that felt wrong. My focus shifted instantly toward the door. My body already reacting before the thought had fully formed, when a hurried knock followed almost immediately after.
The door opened before I could respond, a waitress named Monique slipping inside with a breathless urgency that didn’t belong in my domain. Her composure fractured in a way that told me everything I needed to know before she even spoke.
“My lord,” she said quickly, her voice tight with panic as she struggled to steady it,
“A fight broke out, and it’s not stopping. Their demons are out of control.” The words landed wrong. Not because fights were uncommon, but because nothing within my club ever reached that point without reason. But more than anything, something about it felt wrong. Perhaps it was the timing, and because my thoughts were centered around my second in command. Or maybe I was more on edge because my demon was restless and desperate to get back to my Siren.
Torin and I shared a look before leaving the office after I gave my waitress the nod to leave. Then the moment we stepped back into the club, I could hear the furious sounds of the fight below. We then wasted no time vaulting over the balcony, getting us both down there with greater speed. My wings erupted in a heartbeat, slowing my descent before evaporating as soon as my feet landed.
Two demons were already locked together near the center of the room, one slamming the other back into a table hard enough to splinter wood. While others circled too close and too eager, as though the aggression was spreading rather than contained.
There was something wrong.
I didn’t break my stride as I moved through them, the space parting instinctively at my approach despite the chaos. Though my attention had already shifted past the fight itself, because something else had caught my focus first.
A scent.
Faint, almost lost beneath the usual blend of smoke, liquor, and heat, but sharp enough that once noticed, it cut cleanly through everything else.
Something floral and bitter.
I slowed just enough to reach for the nearest glass, abandoned on a table, lifting it without hesitation, taking in the scent myself before passing it to Torin.
“What do you smell?”
He didn’t question it, bringing it closer, his brow tightening almost immediately as recognition set in.
“…Belladonna.”
