And in your eyes, I saw life staring back at me after a thousand years.
“Because…” I say instead, “… you walked into a biker bar alone at midnight wearing scrubs, looking as if you’re ready to either collapse or set something on fire. That takes guts. Or desperation. Either way, I’m intrigued.”
Another long look. Then, finally, she nods. “One drink. But I’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving.”
“I never said you were.”
I signal Eden, who appears with her usual grace, power radiating from her warm and undeniable.
“Another round,” I tell her. “On me.”
Eden’s eyes flick between us, and I see that knowing smile curve her lips. Banshees see too much. Know too much. Shepours the drinks without comment and slides them across the bar.
“What’s your name?” I ask, turning back to the woman beside me.
“Sloane.”
“Crave.”
“Crave?” She almost laughs. “That’sreallyyour name?”
“Road name. Club president.” I gesture to the patch on my leather cut. “Eternal Sins MC.”
“So, what’s yourrealname?”
“Draven. But no one calls me that anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because names have power. The fewer people who know your real name, the safer you are.”
It’s more truth than I usually share with strangers, but something about Sloane makes me want to be honest. Or at least, as honest as I can be without revealing the monster lurking under my skin.
She picks up her fresh drink, considering my words. “That’s either really paranoid or really smart.”
“Can’t it be both?”
This time, she does smile. Just a faint hint, but it transforms her face. Makes her look younger, less exhausted, and more alive.
“So, Crave, President of the Eternal Sins MC, what brings you over here? Don’t you have biker business to attend to?”
“My business can wait. Right now, I want to know what brought you through my door.”
“Yourdoor?”
“I own this place… Sins & Spirits. My club runs it.”
She glances around, taking in the leather-clad bikers, the rough edges, the air of barely controlled violence that permeates every motorcycle club. “Seems like your kind of scene.”
“What makes you think you knowmykind of scene?”
“Just a feeling.” She sips her drink. “You look like a man who’s seen some things. Done some things. Carries weight.”
You have no damn idea.
“Takes one to know one,” I say quietly.
Something flickers in her eyes again. That flash of crimson-gold that makes my Bloodfire surge. She blinks, and it’s gone, but I saw it. Idefinitelysaw it.
