“Just… strange things. Dreams that feel too real. My hands…” She looks down at her palms, and even in the dim bar lighting, I see the faint tremor. “Forget it. You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“I don’t think anyone’s crazy, especially not in a place like this.”
She glances around again, and this time, I see her really looking, seeing past the surface. Noticing Rogue’s eyes flash gold when someone bumps into him. Watching Scorch’s smoke curl impossibly upward. Observing the way Eden moves with too much grace to be fully human.
“Whatisthis place?” she whispers, and there’s wonder in her tone.
Not fear.
Wonder.
“It’s a sanctuary,” I tell her honestly. “For people who don’t quite fit anywhere else.”
“And you? Do you fit here?”
“I’m still figuring that out.”
Rogue appears at my shoulder, breaking the moment. “Sorry to interrupt, Prez, but we’ve got a situation. Ronan’s about to lose control.”
I curse under my breath and stand. “Fucking prospects. I have to go… club business.”
Sloane nods, understanding flickering in those hazel eyes. “Of course. Thanks for the drinks.”
“Come back,” I say, surprising myself with the intensity in my voice. “Tomorrow night. Next week. Whenever. Just… come back.”
She studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Maybe I will.”
As I walk away, heading toward whatever chaos Ronan has created, I feel her eyes on me. I still feel that hum beneath my skin, that recognition of something not quite human.
For the first time in centuries, something has my attention.
I don’t know who she is, orwhatshe is, but I’m damn well going to find out.
Chapter Five
SLOANE
Three Days Later
Every thought keeps circling back tohim.
For days, it becomes my mantra threaded through hospital shifts, while I pour coffee I don’t drink, while I stare at my ceiling at three in the morning, unable to sleep because every time I close my eyes, I seehim.
Crave.
Dark hair, silver eyes, and a voice steeped in smoke and whiskey that made every word sound like a secret.
The way his gaze stripped me bare down to my bones.
The way my handburnedwhen our fingers touched.
I tell myself it was nothing—static electricity. Exhaustion is playing tricks on my mind. The result of too many double shifts and not enough sleep.
But I know better.
Something happened when we touched. Something impossible. Something that made my blood sing in a way it never has before, and it terrifies me more than anything I’ve seen in the emergency room.
So, I stay away.
