Page 31

When we leave the recesses of the club the air is pungent, but it tastes like freedom. Vivian and her friends may have left me in this guy’s hands, but I don’t mind. He’s charming in a dark way. For now, I’m a little drunk and I can forget about my problems. Tonight hasn’t sucked like I thought it would.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “It amazes me how it always manages to smell like piss and sweat in Asphodel.”

Aedon laughs unexpectedly. It’s deep and genuine accompanied by a mesmerizing boyish grin, even though he tries to hide it. Tall, dark, and handsome. The suit is clinging to his body, and his lean muscles move underneath the fabric. Usually, men who opt to go out sans shirt would make me roll my eyes into my brain, but the sight of him makes me beg the Universe to keep him shirtless forever.

Dark blue eyes, olive skin, and short, tousled dark brown hair draws me in. He has a defined jaw line with a perfect nose. His tattooed torso is covered with colorful intricate designs that I haven’t had time to examine. The man screams toxicity, and I love damage. My infatuation from the first night we met rushes through me like a hurling wind.

My lips are still tingling from the kiss we shared. He glances back at me with a mischievous glint in his eye, and electricity flows through where our hands touch. I’ve never felt anything close to this, not even with Killian. I’m recklessly excited and impossibly anxious.

By Stafford’s account, I’m the most wanted person in the Underworld. I should be more careful, but here I am without a care in the world. He was right about one thing; I needed a fucking vacation. A time where I’m not surrounded by death and blood. I’ve grown too comfortable in it. It’s exhilarating being in the presence of the stranger, Aedonaeus. The sexiest name ever. I forgot how devastatingly dangerous he seems. The way he watched me from the VIP area made me feel wanted just like the way he looked at me the first night we met. His presence is dominating. Even though I want to hate him, I don’t.

Vivian is going to have an aneurysm at brunch tomorrow. There is no doubt she will corner me to pepper me with questions about Aedon, whom I am now mindlessly following as he leads me through crowds of people. They squeal and shout, laughter ringing out above us all.

There is an intrigue deep in the abyss of who I am. Aedon is clearly demented since he watched me bash Ashtray’s face in. Still, there is a strange sense of determined curiosity when he looks at me. My body tingles, drawn to him while he leads me away from the club.

We round a corner into a dirtier part of town. There’s a dingy bar ahead that definitely participates in criminal activity. Right up my alley. The sign over the door is tilted, falling off of the building, and a few of the lights are out, but I can still read ‘The Alibi’. I’ve heard of this place, but I’ve never had business here.

He opens a dark cracked wooden door, and it squeaks, announcing us. The place only has a handful of people, and they hardly register our entrance. It’s a dimly lit hole in the wall. Aedon leads me to a booth in the back, gesturing for me to sit.

I slide across the worn burgundy leather and lean onto the dirty wall, spreading my feet across the booth and stretching my legs out. “Interesting place to bring me to. Are you planning to kill me?”

“Something tells me that you’re more likely to be the murderer out of the two of us.” He signals someone over. I flash him a sly smile in response which seems to spark that boyish grin again, melting my insides.

An elderly woman with gray hair knotted into a bun at the back of her head and thin lips set in a straight line, makes her way to us. She wears a red gingham apron stained with grease and tied in the back, covering a long flowing skirt with a white blouse. She looks at me with morbid interest. The woman clears her throat, and she whips her head toward him.

“What do you like to eat?” he asks me.

“You don’t seem like the type to ask.” He doesn’t open the menu and tells the woman ‘The usual’. She nods, chancing another look at me before disappearing through two swinging doors.

“So, you know David?” he asks nonchalantly.

“My sister knows David from work.” I look around the place trying to take it in. Unlike Stafford’s pub, there is nothing on the walls in an unnerving way. I never thought I could ever miss knick-knacks, but here I am wishing for them.

“Your sister’s fiancé is an interesting character.” His smirk makes me delirious. It’s sexy and my pulse quickens, but I keep my cool.

“Bella,” I remind him. This mental chess match is exhilarating and fucking refreshing.

“David says you're an escort.”

An escort to death. “Really? What an honor.”

“You’re not?”

“Depends on who you ask,” I answer ominously.

“So, you don’t go out much?” He tries again.

“Are you going to keep repeating things people have said to you, or ask me a direct question?”

“My apologies. I usually don’t have to carry the conversation.” He leans back in the booth, spreading his fingers out on the table.

“It’s hard to talk with your tongue in someone’s mouth,” I retort.

He leans forward on his elbows. “You didn’t complain.”

My cheeks flush. “That was charity.”

Instead of being discouraged, his eyes ignite like he just won an argument. They drop to my mouth, and a tingle erupts between my thighs. “Consider me poor then.”