Page 6 of Veil of Death and Shadow (Order of Reapers #1)

6

MAREENA

Present Day

“ H oly shit,” I whispered.

When I glanced at Sora, I knew my expression likely mirrored hers—wide-eyed and filled with awe.

The main room opened before us, the lighting and music moving together until the room seemed to almost pulse with the beat of it. A dark, oval-shaped bar was in the back half, manned by several bartenders as they mixed a range of drinks, working effortlessly together like a perfectly arranged assembly.

Most restaurants and bars I frequented since The Undoing ran like shadows of their former selves with electricity that didn’t always work, fewer customers than I’d been used to, pared down dining and drink options.

Not this one.

The place was packed, with people spread wall-to-wall across the dance floor. Many were dressed in almost nothing, their bodies languid and alive as they touched and moved together until it was just a blur of parts.

There were dancers, too—professional from the looks of them—in cages above us and on a platform that lined the entire left wall.

The rest of the dance floor was surrounded by small, intimate clusters of velvet chairs and tables—large enough for two to share. Couples sat twined together in the chairs, their bodies moving together, skin against skin, as they whispered into each other's ears, or kissed down each other’s necks.

Strangely, I wasn’t uncomfortable with the intimacy, even though a few of them looked like they were all but fucking. There was an odd peace to the sensual energy of the room, like it was here for all of us and therefore belonged to us all.

Heat enveloped the air, and I felt it tingle along my spine, lingering—a silent promise to sink into my skin if I only invited it in. The energy in the room was intoxicating, and I swayed with the music, my body loose, as if I’d already had a drink or two.

“It feels like a dream,” Sora said, her cheeks flushed with the same heat I felt climbing up my neck.

I nodded. Dream was a good word for it. This room was different than any I’d ever been inside before. The power of it seemed to soak into the walls, into the floors, until I felt it sink into my feet, vibrating throughout my body until I couldn’t tell where the room ended, and my body began.

If the building seemed strange when we’d walked into it, then this was ten shades past that.

It made sense to me now, for the first time—why Sora was so fixated on the supernatural, so drawn to this world. She didn’t see the undertones of death and loss that infiltrated everything the way that I did. She saw this place, these people—and others like them.

And it wasn’t just the sex, the intoxicating heat of Incendiary—it was the promise of a heightened everything, of something new. There was a pure, unbridled magnetism here—full-blown technicolor where the rest of our lives were cast in shadow.

The quiet fear that trailed the streets of our everyday, the desperate attempts to hold onto the world of before—was this what awaited a world brave enough to reach out and grab it?

“Should we get a drink?” I asked, my voice huskier than usual, like even it wanted to give in to the hedonism the room promised.

Sora nodded, then grabbed my hand and pulled me across the dance floor. She dragged me through a tangle of bodies, and I felt the joy of each of them cradled in the places where our skin briefly touched.

My eyes snagged on a man whose stare sparked fire—dark and shining with a silent invitation.

His hand grazed along my arm, and I shivered at the touch, my gaze caught on the fullness of his bottom lip. A sudden urge to suck it into my mouth surged through me.

As if he could read my thoughts, his mouth twisted into a smirk, a silent promise to transform that thought into reality if I only had the courage to ask.

And tonight, maybe I would let myself find it.

Sora tugged me, and my focus shot back to her. She glanced behind me and chuckled. “One drink first, then we can work on getting you laid.”

I opened my mouth as if to deny it but then closed my lips and nodded. She was right. It had been a while. And a little fun tonight was needed. Desperately. It would feel good to let loose for once.

The bar was busy, though most people seemed to only be drinking water, using the bartop as a space to cage themselves against another body, the air here slightly less heady than it had been on the floor.

We watched a man pay for two large glasses of wine and carry them back to his friend a few feet away.

The bartender turned to us and raised his brows in question.

Sora shot him a flirty grin. “We’ll take two of those as well.”

His eyes narrowed, then shot to our wrists. Chuckling, he shook his head. “No, I don’t think you will.”

Her brow furrowed, ready to argue the point, but I grabbed her hand and squeezed, clocking the bartender’s amused reaction.

He’d put the bottle of red back into a small fridge. The label was white, blank, except for a sharpie-scrawled AB+.

Blood.

“Oh,” she said, catching on just as I did. “What do you recommend then?”

He slid a menu across the bartop, pointing to a short list of cocktails for humans, most of which were non-alcoholic.

“We generally don’t recommend that you consume alcohol on the premises,” he tilted his head studying us, “especially if this is your first time here. It can take a bit to figure out just how the power of this place will affect you. And,” he winced apologetically, “no offense, but we’ve found that most humans are pretty lousy at handling their liquor in the best of circumstances.”

“Waters,” I said, then held up two fingers. He was probably right. I already felt buzzed, just from being in this room for a few minutes—but not like I usually would after a shot or two of tequila. This was slow and luxurious, a heady sort of buzz that usually came after a solid fuck or a deep-tissue massage.

Sora grabbed the waters, not putting up a fight, and handed me one.

I downed nearly half of it in one gulp, savoring the cool sensation as it swept down my throat.

“Damn.” Sora lifted the glass up, studying it. “This is the best glass of water I’ve ever had.”

I took another sip, nodding. If water tasted and felt this good, I’d have no problem hitting my daily ounce goal. But I knew it wasn’t just the water. It was this place. Everything felt heightened in here—every sip like the first gulp of cool water on the hottest day of summer, every graze against a stranger the promise of something more. The music was slow and sensual, and I felt it move through my body, as if it were emanating from me and not the stereo.

And, most importantly, since we’d walked in, my thoughts had been silent.

No spiraling.

No loops.

No intrusive thoughts.

Tension eased from my body, like a pool float being deflated, and I settled against the bartop, soaking in the sensation for a few moments.

Was this what it felt like—the absence of anxiety? Of fear?

The man from the dance floor made his way over to us, and a nervous, excited energy flooded my lower belly.

He was cute—a few inches taller than me, South Asian, with thick dark hair that lined his head and jaw.

Sora nudged her hip against mine, winking when I caught her eye.

“Talk about a tall glass of water,” she whispered into my ear, her voice light and airy with the lilt of barely contained laughter.

When I glanced down at her, I could tell she was just as infected with the headiness of this place as I was. She swayed gently to the music, her body loose, happier and more relaxed than I’d seen her in a while. Maybe months.

Seeing her like that eased whatever lingering tension I held onto, until it was gone altogether.

“Hi.” The man glanced between us, his gaze settling on me. “I’m Ren.”

His voice was smoky and smooth, like silk against skin.

I glanced down at his wrists, not seeing a band, and a spark of fear fluttered briefly in my chest. Not human.

Studying his face—sharp jaw line, flawless golden-brown skin—I tried to parse what kind of demon he might be. Unless a demon flashed fang or transformed into a werewolf, it was generally impossible to tell.

“I’m Sora, and this is my friend Mars.” She elbowed me in the hip.

“Mars?” He tilted his head slightly, his gaze dipping to my mouth briefly, before trailing back to my eyes.

Blinking, I cleared my throat, extending my hand. “Mareena.”

Mars was reserved only for my close circle, and hot as he may be, this man was definitely not in it.

When his hand closed over mine, I shivered, the feel of his skin against mine far more intimate than it would have been in any other setting. “Care to dance with me, Mareena?”

He said my name like a purr, and my stomach dipped at the sound.

It took a lot to tear my eyes from his, but I managed it as I turned my focus to Sora. “I’m here with my friend actually.”

“Go.” Sora shoved me forward, shaking her head. “Have fun. We’ll check in with each other in a bit, okay? Relax and try to have some fucking fun for once.” The last part was a quiet plea, to me only, her glare piercing as if to cement the demand into reality.

When I nodded, Ren settled his hand on my lower back, the weight of it doing nothing to calm the low arousal that had been coursing through me since the moment we walked in.

I let him lead me out to the floor, as the song transitioned into something slower.

“Your first time here, Mareena?” he whispered the question against the shell of my ear as our bodies moved—twining as they responded to the music and each other.

“Mhm,” I hummed, relaxing a little as the beat pulsed through me. I’d never been a particularly smooth dancer—at least not in public. But something about this place tore away those inhibitions, that fear of being perceived.

“And are you enjoying yourself?”

I nodded, shifting closer to him as a group of people slithered around us.

Ren smelled like power and promise—a spicy combination of cinnamon and clove.

Breathing it in, I let him pull me closer, until my body was firmly against his, his thigh sliding between mine as he effortlessly moved us to the music.

We were below one of the caged dancers and I watched them with rapt fascination, their limbs flexible and lithe as their body married the music, so smooth and filled with so much ease that it was almost impossible to figure out which was in control—the music or the dancer.

“They’re something aren’t they?” Ren’s breath grazed my neck, and my body erupted with chills. His fingers trailed along my arm, my back, featherlight—the barest suggestion of more.

I looked up, my focus latching on his mouth. Pressure sparked in my body, the slow building need, now almost impossible to ignore.

Ren’s lips parted and he inched his face toward mine, waiting for me to pull back.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I glanced up at his eyes, nodding at the question etched in them.

He closed the distance, the warmth of his mouth merging with mine as he sealed us together.

Heat flooded me as I sank into the kiss.

Fuck I hadn’t realized how right Sora was, how badly I needed a release—to just fucking let myself go.

To forget about The Undoing.

Frank.

The diner.

My past.

Him.

For one night.

I could survive one night of pure, unadulterated hedonism—couldn’t I?

More than that, I could let myself enjoy it.

I deepened the kiss, my chest tightening at his responding groan.

Ren’s fingers dug into my back, holding me against his thigh as heat pooled low in my belly.

With a teasing grin, I pulled back, turned around, pressed my ass against his obviously erect dick, and danced, letting the music move my body wherever it wanted to go. I felt strangely powerful, knowing that this stranger—a demon, no less—was as affected by my touch as I was his.

A woman around my age, tall and curvy, with red hair, green eyes, and a fuck-me shade of crimson lipstick on her mouth swayed towards us, until she caged me from the other side.

A dark chuckle spilled from Ren’s lips, against my ear, as his fingers dug against my hips—not letting me stray too far from him as she sandwiched me between them. “This is Lenora—a good friend of mine.”

For the rest of the song, the three of us danced together, our bodies hot and twined as they both ran their hands along my sides, my arms.

I glanced down at Lenora’s wrist, noting the absence of a band again. How many humans were here tonight? And how many of the people here were something . . . more?

When she pressed her mouth against my neck, I froze, half expecting her to bite me. Instead, she sucked and licked, and I eased against her, swallowing a soft moan.

Ren’s hand swept up my right thigh, curling towards where it met my left.

Screw it—maybe I’d fuck them both tonight.

My vision blurred, until I saw both the club surrounding us and the faint etchings of more—the trees I’d seen in the hallway, dark and gray.

I blinked again, and they vanished, the chaotic hunger of the dance floor blurring it out.

But my focus caught on a man leaning against the bar, his eyes latched on mine, burning me. Silvery-white hair, a dark shirt that made his pale skin stand out in contrast.

It was him; I was sure of it.

His expression was unreadable, but I froze under his stare, my connection to the dancers and music snapping like a severed cord

It had been six years since I’d seen him, but now twice in one day? That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“You okay?” Lenora whispered, her voice dripping with the same heat I’d been swimming in just two seconds ago.

I turned back to her nodding.

“Yeah—” I said. I cleared my throat, straightening. “Yes. I just need to use the restroom. You guys go on without me.”

She furrowed her brows, her hand still against my hip. “You sure? Want me to go with you?” She glanced up at Ren, her expression teasing. “Or maybe both of us?”

I shook my head, unfolding myself from them both. “I’m good, promise.”

Ren laughed, the sound dark and deep. “I think she’s wondering if you wanted more than just an escort, Mareena.”

Oh.

I glanced back at the bar, but the man was gone.

Dammit. What was with his constant disappearing act?

I scanned the floor, but I couldn’t spot him in the sea of bodies. I did, however, spot Sora. She was seated at one of the tables, her arm around a girl, both laughing as they whispered to each other. Even from here, I could see her eyes sparkling, her entire face lit up with excitement. She was having fun. I didn’t want to interrupt that. Sora needed to let loose as badly as I did.

But I also needed to find this guy.

I shot Ren and Lenora a quick smile. “No, I’m good. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I left them to each other, then made my way to the edges of the crowd. When I glanced back, they were both entwined together, dancing as if I was never there between them, their lips fused together.

Fuck, they were hot.

I momentarily resented myself for getting distracted by the stranger.

The bar had a line now, so I let myself watch them until they were swallowed up by the crowd.

When I got to the front, the bartender handed me another glass of water before I even had a chance to ask him for it. A god amongst mortals.

“Bathrooms?” I asked, guzzling it until all that was left was ice.

He nodded behind the bar.

I pressed the cool glass against my neck, savoring the sensation. The chill of it was like a balm, settling me back into myself. After the initial shock of the place, it was easier to focus—where the room had felt like being hit with a harsh wave of power at first, now it was more like a still swimming pool, one I could wade through easily.

There were two separate halls back here, but I took the first.

It was quiet and dim, lit only by the back glow of some red sconces, their flare flickering along the black walls like fire.

A familiar song started, but it was softer here, muted. No louder than I’d typically play music in my room.

Humming along to the slow, sultry lyrics, I trailed my fingers over the wall, the glass still pressed against my neck with my other hand. Though I was more used to it now, I could still feel the buzzing power ebb and flow through the building, its lure gentle but unmistakable.

The bathroom was giant. The sort that had individual floor-to-ceiling stall doors and, judging by the moans coming from a few of them, I was pretty sure they were currently occupied for more than peeing.

I splashed some water on my face, taking care not to ruin my makeup any more than my sweat already had.

With a deep breath, I leaned against the sink, steadying myself. Thank god I stuck with water tonight. This place was getting under my skin, burrowing deep.

When I caught my reflection in the mirror, I jumped.

It was my face, of course, though I looked a bit more disheveled than I had when we got here. My pupils were blown wide, the eyeliner I’d been so careful to apply now slightly smudged.

The problem though, was with the scene reflected behind me. It wasn’t the ornate, gothy vibes of the luxurious bathroom. Instead, the color was flattened, like the saturation had been sucked out of the room. Dark, dead-looking trees surrounded my reflection—trees that were absolutely not in the room with the me standing in front of the mirror.

I blinked, focusing on the familiar gold ring of my septum piercing, using it as an anchor.

“It’s not real. It’s not real,” I muttered to myself. Even after six years, I still hadn’t grown accustomed to these occasional visions—their distortions bled with reality until it became nearly impossible to identify the real from the not.

It was truly such a useless side effect of The Undoing.

I would’ve much preferred teleportation or the ability to fly.

Instead, I got two-toned hair and double vision.

When I had the courage to look up again, the strange forest was replaced by an elaborate painting. The same painting that was attached to the wall behind me.

My shoulders sank with relief.

Get it the fuck together, Mars .

I made a goofy face at the me in the mirror, relaxing when she made the same face back. The world had righted itself in my brain again.

My focus latched briefly on the column of my neck. There was a crimson smudge where Lenora’s lips had been.

My body heated when I thought about where else her lips could be right now, if she’d come with me. Where maybe two sets of lips could be—all I had to do was ask.

With a heated smirk at myself, I tossed one of the small ice cubes from the glass into my mouth, then set it down on a tray near the door.

I needed to cool down. To chill the fuck out and go have fun.

A moan echoed from the stall at the far end of the room.

“Fuck, yes, just like that.” The voice cracked into another, louder groan of pleasure.

Heat shot through me. Bathroom stalls weren’t really my style, but fuck I needed a release. Less than half an hour in this place, and my body had done nothing but make me excessively aware that I needed to give it some proper attention. Or, rather, have someone else give it some proper attention.

It was officially time to forget the mysterious disappearing dude and get back to Ren and Lenora.

My vibrator was great, but tonight I wanted . . . more.

“Right,” I muttered to myself. “Fun. I can do this.”

I left the bathroom, but instead of turning back to the dance floor, I stopped at a large door, the word ‘basement’ emblazoned on it in an elaborate gold font. A woman—bald, white, and wearing a body-con dress that highlighted her every enviable curve—walked over. Her hand was clasped around a tie, and the tie was attached to a man who had what looked like a trail of blood dribbling down his chin.

Another glance at her, and I noticed she had blood along her neck, seeping from a very obvious, very recent bite.

I pressed my hand against the lipstick kiss on my neck, reassuring myself that it wasn’t also weeping blood.

The woman gave the man a sultry tug, before shooting me a wink and slipping behind the door.

A brief flare of different music and voices filtered into the hall, silencing when the door closed behind them.

Another club?

Curiosity had me reaching for the golden handle, but when I opened it, the door snapped closed again.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to go down there, actually.” The voice was deep, crackling with an Irish lilt. The owner’s breath brushed against the shell of my ear, sending a wave of shivers down my spine.

“Says who?” When I spun around, I found myself caged against the door, a familiar pair of hazel eyes holding mine in their stare. Those eyes were somehow even more mesmerizing than I remembered them being, like my brain couldn’t quite concoct their exact shade. It didn’t have the artistry, the shades necessary to get them just right.

“You,” I said, though the word was more a soundless breath than anything with shape.

I’d thought of this man more times than I could count, wondering what had become of him that day. The Undoing and his rescue were tied irrevocably in my brain, and he showed up in my dreams often because of it.

Still, those dreams hadn’t done him justice.

He had more tattoos now than he had a few years ago—or maybe my memory could only hold so much of him. Intricate patterns of ink snaked up his neck, along the arm pressed above my head, where it held the door closed behind me.

His ears were pierced, his pale hair mussed on top but still somehow perfect in the chaos of it.

“Me.” He arched one of his dark brows, the corner of his mouth twitching briefly as he studied me.

“I um—” I swallowed, trying to find strength under the weight of his gaze, remembering earlier—Mrs. Pederson. “Were you at the medical center earlier—in Wallingford?”

His expression didn’t shift, and he didn’t pull away from me. With a shake of his head, he leaned a few inches closer. “Nah, you must have me confused with somebody else.”

There was a teasing quality to his tone that made whatever gymnastics my stomach had been doing before go full-on Olympics level now.

“And six years ago? You,” I licked my lips, my chest tightening as his eyes clocked the movement, “you saved me from being roadkill. The day of The Undoing. I remember you.”

“Now that,” he said, his gaze lingering on my mouth. “Definitely doesn’t sound like me. Not really a rescue the damsel sort.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m no damsel.”

There it was, that almost smirk again. Why the hell did I suddenly want to feel that smirk pressed against my skin? “No. I don’t suppose that you are. This isn’t really the place for damsels, is it?”

I held his stare as fire pooled low in my belly. I thought, briefly, of those bathroom stalls, of how I could maybe become a bathroom stall kind of girl, under the right conditions.

“Hey, Mareena,” a voice called from my left.

He stiffened.

I turned towards the voice, though I felt his gaze still drilling into me.

Ren walked closer, Lenora leaning against his side. Her perfectly crimson pout was now feathered and smudged around the edges, like it had been partially sucked off. I had no clue how she managed to pull it off, but somehow the dishevelled look only made her prettier.

Some things just weren’t fair.

“We uh . . .” Ren’s focus darted to the man, then back to me, his smile uncertain. “We were just coming to find you. You coming back to the floor?”

“Sorry.” When it became clear that my captor had no intention of moving, I ducked underneath his arm. “I got caught up on my way back.”

“Yeah.” Ren glanced behind me, where I felt the man’s presence like a blazing inferno at my back. “I see that.”

Lenora studied him with more interest than Ren did, her lips curving into a sultry smile. “Who’s your friend? He can come, too, if he wants.”

A stab of something unfamiliar, almost possessive, shot through me.

Not jealousy—but maybe jealousy’s second or third cousin.

I had no intention of dissecting why her obvious appreciation of him had my chest feeling uncomfortably tight—especially when I’d been all team more-the-merrier just a few minutes ago.

“Um this is . . .” I turned around, my breath catching when I realized that he was all but glued to my back. His face was unreadable, eyes latched on mine as if we hadn’t been interrupted. It became immediately clear in the echoing silence that he had no interest in helping me with a name. I narrowed my eyes and smirked. “Sir Broods-a-Lot.”

A deep, quiet sound, half growl, half chuckle reverberated in his chest, and I found myself desperate to hear it again, the urge to press my palm against his black shirt so I could feel the vibration of it so strong I had to use all of my will power to resist it.

“He’s not really one for words.” I took a step back, towards Ren and the girl, and it was like resisting the lure of a strong magnet—every inch away from him demanded effort on my part.

A muscle in his jaw tightened, and I had to forcibly turn away from him to keep from staring at it with a hunger I couldn’t explain.

“Well, good thing it’s not words that I want right now,” she said, her voice soaking in lust. She watched him ravenously, and I resisted the urge to step between them. “What do you say, Sir Broods-a-Lot? You want to join in on the fun? There are private rooms we can rent if that’s more to your taste—a private dance, maybe. Of course, Mareena has some restrictions,” her gaze dipped to the band at my wrist, “but that doesn’t mean she can’t participate or watch.”

“We enjoy sharing.” Ren trailed his fingers up the girl’s side, and she shivered, her eyelids heavy as she leaned into him and watched us.

My heart hammered in its cage at the offer. Any attraction I’d felt towards either of them before had withered up like a grape left out in the sun. Nothing sounded less appealing than the thought of Ren’s fingers on me, or Lenora’s on Mr. Mysterious.

“I don’t,” he said. “At least not with you.”

“Boo.” She pouted playfully. “No fun.”

“Suit yourself.” Ren shrugged, his focus returning to me. “Mareena, you coming?”

I shook my head. “I should check on my friend.”

I could see Sora from here, and she seemed just as cozy as she had when I’d left for the restrooms, but now a night with Ren and the girl was the farthest thing from my mind.

An annoying mystery enshrouded the man standing at my side—one I’d been oddly fixated on solving for years. I didn’t fully understand what it was about him, but now that he was in front of me, I knew my curiosity wouldn’t relent tonight until I saw it quenched.

“Fair enough, another time then.” Ren pressed a kiss to my cheek as he squeezed my shoulder, and I flinched at his touch. It had been one thing while dancing, but it was another now.

His grip was ripped away almost instantly though, as the man shoved him back and stepped between us. “She doesn’t like being touched.”

The memory of that day came flooding back more vividly than it had in years. His hand on me, pulling me back from the bus. My adrenaline-flooded attempt at gratitude coming out instead like a chastisement of his grip.

“My bad, man.” Ren raised his hands up in surrender. “She didn’t seem to mind earlier.”

“Well, she minds now,” he ground out.

““You’re right.” Ren studied me, his brows furrowed in concern as he nodded. “Sorry Mareena, I didn’t mean any offense.”

“It’s fine.” I winced. The group closest to us on the dance floor had stopped moving to the music. Instead, they were watching us. We were drawing attention. I caught the bartender’s eye and gave him a nod, a silent promise that I’d deescalate the situation. “I’m not offended.”

It was the truth—and Ren was right. I had more than welcomed his touch earlier.

My dislike of being touched had little to do with my own comfort and everything to do with my fear that I might somehow contaminate those closest to me.

It had taken years of work, but I’d gotten a little better at identifying where my anxieties and fears diverged from the curse. I was still absolutely convinced that death was haunting me—or those closest to me—but it hardly seemed transferable through touch, like a particularly gnarly infectious disease.

And if it was, something told me that demons could withstand the curse in a way the humans in my life might not be able to.

“We’ll catch you later, Mareena.” Lenora glanced between us, then twined her fingers through Ren’s. “Enjoy your night.”

With a wink, she turned and led him down to the basement.

When they were gone, I turned back to the man, every molecule in my body aware of his presence. I wasn’t sure if it was the power of this place or just him. Maybe a mix of both.

“So, you do remember,” I said. “That day.”

He ran a hand through his hair, not meeting my stare. For the first time, he looked uncomfortable, not entirely in control.

Maybe I wasn’t the only one feeling the intoxicating effects of this place.

“You should be careful, Mareena.”

I shivered at the sound and shape of my name on his lips. He pronounced it slowly and softly, almost to himself, like he was tasting it.

I forced my focus up to his eyes, though they were just as disorienting. “Of what?”

“If you don’t keep your wits about you,” his eyes burrowed into mine, a silent plea, “this place can cast a charm that’s not exactly easy to break.”

I felt the timbre of his voice reverberate in my chest, its own kind of mesmerizing music.

He stood close to me, but I wanted him closer. My interest in Ren and Lenora had dissolved entirely, but he’d somehow managed to magnify the need coursing through my body like a livewire set aflame.

“Who said I wanted to break it?” I heard the desire in my voice, didn’t even bother disguising it. There was no sense trying. “Maybe that’s why I’m here.”

He let out a low laugh, though there was no humor to the sound—just the edge of resignation. “Is it now?”

“Is that so wrong? To want a night of fun?”

“No.” He shook his head, something passing in his expression. “That’s not wrong.”

“And you?” I asked, my voice a husky whisper as I leaned closer to him.

He swallowed, and I couldn’t tear my eyes from the movement. “Me?”

“Are you here to have—fun?” I wasn’t usually shy about wanting sex—it was often just an exchange for me, a release. I had rules, kept emotion out of it. But I felt bolder than usual tonight, and right now, I wanted nothing more than for him to say yes. “Or just to brood on the sidelines?”

“Oh, I like fun.” He took another step closer and then another, until my back was against the wall. His arms pressed to either set of my head, caging me there, but it wasn’t lost on me that he made sure, even now, not to touch me. “If it’s fun that you want.”

This close, his body consumed my senses. He smelled like mint and morning dew mixed with something entirely mouth-watering that I couldn’t find a name for in my lust-addled brain.

Heat pooled low in my belly, and I felt my nipples stiffen where his chest just barely brushed up against them—a whisper, the smallest breath of a touch.

He leaned down until his lips were at the shell of my ear. His breath against my neck tore a whimper from my lips. Whatever arousal I’d felt while dancing with Ren and Lenora was nothing more than a shadow compared to what his mere presence was doing to me right now.

What the fuck was it with this guy? And why, when he was around, did everything else just fade into the background?

“It’s Kieran.”

I blinked, fighting to focus. “What’s Kieran?”

“My name.”

“And do you like to dance, Kieran?” Because if we were going to stand here like this for much longer, I was liable to do something ridiculous, like try to climb him like a tree.

“Not really.” He shifted closer, until his mouth was just barely a breath from mine, the ghost of a smile sparking in his eyes. “But I’d like to dance with you.”

I grabbed his hand, my skin humming where it met his, and then led him the few remaining feet to the dance floor.

He pulled me closer, now that I’d initiated contact, his eyes on mine the whole time, like he was waiting for the slightest signal to carve distance between us again.

Distance was the last thing I wanted right now.

There were a million questions I wanted to ask him.

Why did he disappear that day?

Where did he go?

What had the rest of that day been like for him, The Undoing?

How did he know Mrs. Pederson?

Did he live near here?

But the desire to berate him with even one of those questions quickly shaped itself into a very different, very demanding desire.

We moved together, the slow, sultry beat of the song pulsing between us.

His hand was featherlight on my waist as he pulled me in, his leg sliding between mine, like he needed as much of us twined together as I did.

Heat clung to my skin as we danced, slow and steady, until it felt like we were the only two people in Incendiary. The only two people in the world.

His right hand grazed my cheek as he threaded his fingers through my hair.

I shivered as tingles exploded down my body, then I leaned into his touch, craving so much more.

He swept his thumb across my bottom lip, tracing it with a quiet reverence that squeezed at my chest.

I gasped at the sensation, the feel of his skin against mine.

He froze; his gaze locked on my mouth.

Not breaking eye contact, I slid my tongue forward until I tasted him. His skin was cool and salty, tinged with the lightest layer of smoke.

His lips parted as he watched me, clearly just as affected as I was by the spell weaving between us.

Emboldened by his evident desire, I pulled his thumb into my mouth, swirling my tongue over it as I sucked.

He hissed. “Bloody fecking hell.”

Heat blazed in his eyes, and I gasped when he pressed me closer to him. He was hard against my pelvis. Very hard.

For a moment, we stood still, both holding our breath and waiting, until I couldn’t wait a second longer.

Leaning up, I pressed my lips to his.

He didn’t move at first, didn’t react.

I pulled back, embarrassed. “Sorry, I?—”

And then, like a rubber band that had been pulled too tight, he snapped.

His lips crashed against mine as he dug his fingers into my back, my hair—like he couldn’t get close enough.

When his tongue parted my mouth and found mine, I groaned at the warmth and taste of him.

Fucking hell, I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever felt desire this strong—this demanding.

One hand gripping my waist, he slid me up his thigh and I nearly came from that small pressure against my clit.

A low, needy moan pulled from my throat as his lips sucked their way over my jaw, down my neck. I didn’t even care who might see or hear us.

“Tell me what you want?” He whispered against my skin and the ache between my thighs deepened at the clear heat in his tone.

“Touch me.”

He froze for a moment, his lips at the hollow of my neck, his hand tangled in my hair.

The hand gripping my waist pulled back and I instantly felt the loss of his touch. Until I felt his fingers trail down the outside of my left thigh, my entire body erupting in tingles wherever his skin met mine.

He slid his hand beneath my dress, tracing up my inner thigh until his fingers met the lace of my underwear.

I gasped as he pressed down on me, my desire liquid hot and obvious as hell.

He groaned against my neck as he slipped a finger beneath the lace, stroking me.

“You’re fecking soaked.” His voice was strangled as he slid his finger inside of me.

I whimpered when he pulled it out, then stepped back, putting a few inches between us.

His breathing was heavy, his eyes a violent storm.

My protest must have been clearly etched across my face.

“I can’t fuck you,” he said, his eyes wide and wild with need as he glanced around.

I followed his gaze, and noticed the bartender watching us, body stiff, head tilted as if in warning.

“But—”

“Not in here.” Kieran shook his head, his eyes darting down to the band on my wrist.

Right. Villette’s rules about humans. No sex.

“Where?” Because right now, I would follow him into the depths of hell if it meant he would ease the impossibly tight pressure building in my body right now.

His mouth curved into a soft smirk as he slid his finger into his mouth and sucked, considering.

“Fuck, you taste good.” He shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle. “Literally anywhere else.”

“Then take me.” My legs turned to Jello at the liquid heat in his eyes.

“I really shouldn’t—it,” his eyes darted down, his face unreadable when they locked on mine again. “It can only be once. Only tonight. That’s all I can give you, do you understand?”

“Okay.” I nodded, ignoring the sudden pressure tightening my chest. That was my rule, too, there was no reason tonight should be any different. “I get it, just once. Fine by me.”

His jaw muscles flexed.

“No strings, just sex,” I whispered, suddenly terrified he was going to change his mind, and leave me here in a puddle without him. I sounded desperate, but I didn’t care—right now, I was desperate. “Kieran, please.”

He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, then grabbed my hand, pulling me through the crowd.

I bit back my victorious grin, hardly even paying attention to where he was leading me, every ounce of my focus locked on where he touched me—on how fucking good it would feel when he was touching me where I needed him to be.

Cool air licked at the sweat on my neck.

We were outside, in an alley between Incendiary and whatever building was next to it. It was dark, I couldn’t see any signs.

He ran a hand roughly through his hair as he looked around, searching—probably for somewhere more private. Inside.

“Here,” I said, tugging on his hand.

“People might see.”

“Let them watch.”

He swore, then pressed me up against the wall, his hand loose against my throat as he searched my face. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

His mouth twisted into a small, sad smirk, a joke that my lust-addled brain was too preoccupied to follow.

Whatever it was he was looking for—desire, consent, demand—he found, because with a single nod, he dropped to his knees in front of me, his hands disappearing beneath my dress as his gaze held mine.

My breath stuttered in my chest at the arrogant teasing in his eyes.

With agonizing slowness, he slid my underwear down my legs.

I stepped out of it, my hands clasped on his shoulders for balance since I’d clearly lost all control over my body the moment he touched me.

He slid the black lace into his pocket, a cocky smirk carving across his face. “I’ll be taking these.”

Before I said anything, his head disappeared underneath the tulle, and I gasped when the heat of his lips found my clit.

“Fucking kill me now,” I hissed, my body sliding against the wall.

With his forearm pressed across my hips, he held me there.

And then he sucked me into his mouth, my entire body throbbing at the sensation.

We weren’t even in Incendiary anymore—the power of the place no longer in play—and I’d still never been so turned on in my life.

I clung to his hair, my body lost to the oncoming orgasm.

People were laughing and walking nearby, but I didn’t care.

If anything, the thought that they just had to look down the alley to see us just made the whole thing hotter.

My bodyweight fell against him as I came, the orgasm rolling through me with an intensity that had my vision blurring.

He licked up every last drop of my arousal, like a man dying of thirst.

He pressed a kiss to my thigh, then my leg and stomach as he crawled back up, my body tingling under every press of his lips and tongue.

“You are magnificent,” he whispered against my neck, then pulled back to look at me, his eyes drunk on desire.

“Fuck me,” I begged. I pressed my hand against the thick bulge of his pants, then met his eyes. “Please.”

A deep groan resounded in his chest. He pressed a kiss to my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh as I unbuckled his pants and slid my fingers over him.

He was smooth and hard, his dick pulsing in my hand when I rubbed his pre-cum over the tip.

“I’m on birth control,” I whispered against his mouth, my teeth tugging lightly on his bottom lip.

He nodded; his eyes locked on mine. He slid his dick against my clit, through my heat, coating himself in my desire. With a shiver, he sank into me.

I swallowed the groan on his lips, my body molding against his as he fucked me with a punishing pace that already had me on the edge of another earth-shattering orgasm.

Voices grew louder and closer, but we were both too lost to care.

Kieran picked me up as I wrapped my legs around him.

There was a flash of movement from the corner of my eyes, and I saw the outline of a couple of figures.

My peripheral focus locked on—holding there. Something about the profile of one of them was familiar, but the shadows were too thick, and I couldn’t make out their face.

The orgasm tore through me just as they inched forward—familiar grey eyes that I hadn’t seen in nearly seven years met mine briefly as I buried my face into Kieran’s shoulder, riding the intense waves that rippled through me.

Kieran bit down on my shoulder, muffling his moan as he followed me over.

He pulsed inside of me, and I found myself desperately thankful he was holding me up.

I’d have been a puddle at his feet if he hadn’t been, my body nothing but sated putty.

As the magnitude of pleasure coursing through me faded, my brain caught up with me.

Slowly, I unwound my legs from Kieran’s waist and leaned back against the wall, searching desperately through the alley as I recalibrated my balance.

Whoever had been here before, whoever I thought I’d seen, was gone.

The alley was as empty as it had been when we got here, no one else in sight.

I clutched the wall, still panting.

It couldn’t have been him. I had to have been seeing things—a lingering effect from Incendiary’s power.

Kieran took a few steps back and winced, his eyes narrowed as if in pain.

“Fuck.” He stumbled slightly, grabbing his arm.

I took a step towards him, but he stepped back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Sorry—” His eyes met mine as he straightened up—there was regret, maybe anger etched across his face. “I have to go. You should—” he took a breath, steadying himself, the maelstrom of emotions draining into a strange, distant apathy, “you should forget about me, that you saw me here. This was a fun night—you should go home and get some rest.”

My head swam as I fought to find words, to understand what the hell he was talking about.

By the time I opened my mouth to say something, I was alone in the dark alley.

He was gone.