“Isn’t the water getting cold?” the demon asks, and I blink up at him as he reaches for the knob to shut off the water. It feels like only seconds have passed since he left, but I’m slightly stiff, proving maybe I’ve been here longer than I expected.
Rising, I notice his clothes are dry and the bedroom is dark.
“Yeah, you’ve been in here for a while. I was busy… She’s fine, sleeping,” he finishes as if he knows what I’m thinking.
I take the towel he offers and dry off. My muscles are loose, but I’m still tired. Not bothering with clothing, I slip into bed next to Lore, and when I feel how warm she is, I realize I was cold. Her body shivers, but instead of pulling away, she turns over and cuddles her face into my chest, wrapping her arm over my back and urging me closer. I stop everything for a moment, even breathing, as she sleepily murmurs something while nuzzling even closer.
The bed shifts as the prince wraps his body around her back. A soft sigh leaves her lips, and then her breathing is so deep, I know she must be sleeping soundly again.
It takes me a long time to actually fall asleep because my mind refuses to let this moment pass without me committing every second to memory. This is the heaven I longed for.
CHAPTER17
Lore
The giant crab-likecreature scuttling along the side of the building alerts me that Brass is still here when I park my bike in front of the clubhouse. I’m getting used to the increased traffic near our square since Harlow’s disappearance, but I still don’t like it.
Music is playing quietly when I enter the club. Most of the club members’ heads turn in my direction, and many nod as I pass them to reach the back of the main room.
I don’t really care for the extra attention, but it’s easy to deal with. Salvador is sulking in his chair, watching the club with a scowl. It’s easy for me to forget he’s supposed to be intimidating and is to most of our members.
I take my place next to him, and Egan chooses to stand to my left. I squeeze my thighs together, remembering how he felt moving inside me last night, and the ache left behind is a sweet reminder.
Modeus moves through the bar, noticed by all he gets close to, but none approach him as he tucks himself into a corner table with a shifter whom I don’t know well enough to recall his name. Our eyes lock, and I’m unable to look away from him, knowing he’s thinking about me just as much as I am thinking about him.
“Anything of interest happen?” I ask Sal once I’m settled.
“A couple more nomads in the territory. It seems like all of them are following the rules and coming here to let us know they are passing through once they hear there will be no trials.” His bushy brows are high on his yellowish skin, and his lips are twisted in distaste, telling me he doesn’t think very highly of the new riders in our territory. He doesn’t look quite so sallow today, but he’s not the same creature I’ve known for years. I doubt any of us are. “We should post sentries at the borders. They are only coming for a fight.”
“Let them come, Reaper. I have nothing to fear.” While the statement is true, I’m hoping whoever played a hand in Harlow’s death will eventually show themselves. I’m not going to get to the bottom of this by hiding behind the walls of the Syndicate. I’m actually more worried about the threat that’s already at my door.
I cut my eyes to Modeus. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but I can see his lips moving as he has a conversation with the shifter at his table. He’s leaning back casually in his chair, his legs spread invitingly. His self-imposed mission is to find out what the members of the club are saying—if there are any whispers that don’t make it to the inner circle, who’s unhappy, who wants change. His plan already seems to be working, as another demon pulls up a chair and takes a seat at the table with him. He acknowledges the lower demon with a slight head bob, and I scan the rest of the room so I don’t get caught ogling my prince.
“Salvador.” I lean over a little and keep my voice low, though I know I’m in a room filled with beings who possess hearing much better than my own. “How has our new probie been? Any issues?”
“Quiet as a church mouse.” He scowls. “I thought she would have cleared out within a day, considering her accommodations, but she’s acting like she’s right at home.”
Everything points to Thana being involved in this, but it almost seems too easy. “And Sabastian?”
“Freshly mated. Can you believe that?” He looks at me sideways, as if finding your mate has suddenly become an epidemic and I’m somehow patient zero.
“How fresh?” I question. He seemed so down yesterday when I spoke to him. I can’t imagine him not saying anything.
“A couple weeks I guess.” Reaper shrugs.
Sab did mention visiting the club and not seeing Harlow. I can see why he was distracted now. “Damn, you know her?”
“Nah, he said she wasn’t a member. He hasn’t had a drink since you left the other day.” Sal peers at me sideways. “He’s out riding with a few enforcers, making sure the roads are clear.” I watch the demon’s small talons dig into the arm of his chair. I know I’m not the only one who was frustrated with the wolf’s behavior.
The next two hours pass with relative ease. Members come and go, and Modeus navigates the club, speaking to nearly everyone as if they are eager to have his attention. Having his attention is addicting.
I’m lulled into a false sense of normalcy, watching everything happen around me and wondering if this was what my father felt like for so many years—as if he was watching over a band of misfits, waiting for the next one to step out of line. He made it look effortless and still managed to seem interested, while I feel as if I should be doing something else instead of sitting here.
My unease grows to an anxious feeling. It must be strong enough to draw Modeus’ attention, because he snaps his head in my direction as if I called his name.
The clubhouse doors blow open in the next second, and then Egan is standing in front of me with his wings out, covered in beautiful ruby and black hellfire.
I hear a snort, then feel the ground shake with a heavy footstep. I pop out of my chair because I know that sound. “Harlow?” I question softly and step to the side so I can see around my fallen.
