A doorman waited at the entrance of the club. He was dressed like an extra from the set of The Matrix in a long black trench coat and black pants. A silver chain hung around his neck, and the amount of gel he’d used to slick his dark hair back had to have been stunning. A pair of silver aviator frames perched on the end of his sharp nose. He didn’t say a word, but nodded at us as he pulled open the red door.

Matthias, his hand still on my back, ushered me inside the hallway. The red walls were dotted with sconces that radiated pale purple light.

“Trying a little too hard, aren’t they?” I whispered, frowning at the pattern on the walls. “Is that velvet damask?”

The horror.

“I have no idea,” Matthias said, not pausing to offer his own assessment of the tacky wallpaper.

“I mean really, who are we meeting, Lady Marmalade?”

He ignored me and continued propelling me forward, deeper into the club. At the end of the hallway, we breezed past a thick curtain—more velvet—and stepped into a large room. The music that had only been a faint hum in the hall was louder, but not to a deafening degree. How refreshing. A club where ordering a drink didn’t require straining your vocal cords.

A square bar occupied the majority of the space, swarming with the happy hour crowd. Three bartenders, all wearing varying degrees of the same sci-fi ensemble as the doorman, worked together with fluid precision. I watched them serving up a group of college-aged girls with an almost artistic synchronization.

Tables and booths were arranged to the left of the central bar. To the right, a large dance floor and a DJ platform with go-go cages flanked either side. The DJ station was unoccupied, the pop beats coming through the speakers from some kind of playlist. It wasn’t my style of music, but it wasn’t intolerable.

“Come on,” Matthias said, giving me a gentle nudge. “Let’s get a table.”

We crossed the room and took a booth in the far corner. Along the way, Matthias flagged a passing server, who fell into step behind us. We took our seats and ordered a bottle of premium faux infused with some kind of liquor. I didn’t usually add anything to my synthetic, but I made an exception. A little buzz wouldn’t hurt me and I would have to drink a lot to manage anything more than a little warm and fuzzy.

As we waited for our drinks, I glanced around the club. “So, what is it that drives your mother away?” I pointed at the ceiling. “Is it the music? The atmosphere? The—” I paused, lifting an eyebrow as a scantily-clad woman walked by our table, “—dress code?”

Matthias, to his credit, didn’t linger on the woman. Instead, he shrugged. “A combo, I’d imagine. We own this club, actually. She just refuses to come here.”

“The Hartfords own this place?”

“Technically, we own a share. But it’s a large enough majority that it’s not much of a difference,” Matthias answered. “The building became vacant three years ago and I was supposed to sell it. As I’m sure you know, my family works in real estate. Commercial, primarily.”

I nodded.

“Anyway, I was having trouble selling the building, but I had a couple of friends who were looking to start a place like this. We made a deal. I brokered a lease and invested some of my own money to get it open. Originally, it was about half this size, but it took off like wildfire. Nine months after the doors opened, the place was bursting at the seams. I talked my mother into letting the family business invest in the expansion, and she agreed.”

I smiled at him. “That negotiating power you mentioned.”

“Yeah. Although, she regrets it now. Investing can be addicting. After this deal was so successful, I started branching out more and more on my own ventures. I started working as a venture capitalist, working on new business ideas. Turns out, I’m good at choosing winners. Eventually, the goal is to start my own investment firm.”

“And your mother doesn’t want you to leave the family business.”

Matthias’s lips formed a firm line. He shook his head. “She doesn’t appreciate that things are changing. Technology and magic are blending. More and more supernaturals are abandoning the havens. The legacy vampires think it’s a fad, not a trend. They don’t think it will last. That eventually the novelty of the human world will wear off and the havens will fill up again.”

“Sounds like my father,” I added.

Matthias nodded.

We paused the conversation when our server returned to our table. She poured each of us a glass and left the bottle, asking if we needed anything else before Matthias dismissed her. I caught her give him a longing look over her shoulder before stepping back behind the bar.

I smirked into my glass.

“Want to share with the class, Lady Vaughn?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t blame the girl. Matthias was a handsome man. There was no denying that. With his athletic build, strong shoulders and jawline, and the deep green eyes, he was a visual feast. None of the so-called suitors my father had presented were ugly. I knew it wasn’t some curtesy to me. He’d straight up hitch my wagon to Quasimodo himself if he had the chance, just to spite me. But, luckily for me, attractiveness was a prized trait. A handsome man would be more revered and admired by the Court.

Matthias though, was definitely the most attractive of the bunch.

Not that it mattered.

Right, Lacey?

Right.

“Should we have a toast?” I asked, holding up my glass.

“Sure,” Matthias agreed, lifting his own. “To …?”

“The future,” I declared.

He lifted a brow but met my glass in a soft clank. “To the future.”

* * *

“Time for the million-dollar question.”

We were on our third glass apiece and the liquor was more potent than I’d anticipated, leaving me feeling light and giggly.

Matthias laughed, the sound a little rummy. “You have it in cash? Cause I’m not sure how I feel about taking a personal check.”

“I’m good for it, all right?” I replied, grinning widely. “You claim that your mother is hounding you to get married and you’re a first bornling. How did you wind up in this ridiculous competition? Seems to me, you should have settled down a while ago!”

Something shifted in Matthias’s eyes. A sudden seriousness taking away the glittering light that had been there only a blink ago.

“I don’t mean to pry,” I hurried to add. “It just seems that you’re not super into this whole bashing-skulls thing, so why not settle down with someone? Make your mother happy and save your own skin.”

I hitched a thumb over my shoulder at the bar. “Heck, there are at least two bartenders over there who want to rip my face off for just sitting here with you.”

He didn’t follow my gesture and though his glass was still halfway filled, he pushed it aside. “For starters, all of those bartenders are turned vampires. My mother would never allow me to marry anyone less than a bornling, first born if possible.” He paused, the muscles at his temples flexing as though he were grinding his teeth. “I could recite you her whole speech, if you’d like to hear it? It’s practically branded into my skin at this point.”

The banter and play had vanished, lost behind the hooded look to his hard eyes.

Gently, I set my own glass down, keeping my fingers on the delicate stem. “It was just a question. Stars, Matthias. You don’t have to get so uptight about it.”

“It’s not a topic I want to get into,” he snapped.

“Fine. Keep your secrets.” I held up my free hand. “As for me, well, you’ve already seen all my dirty laundry. The entire Court got front row seats to that particular show and tell.”

He stared at me. “You mean the Lord Gowan thing?”

I laughed. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg. The only reason I even wound up engaged to that buffoon was because of Melanie’s scandal.”

Matthias’s shoulders rolled back as he leaned against the seat, his posture knocked down a peg from attack dog mode. “To be honest, I don’t know the whole story. I wasn’t active in the Court when it all happened and by the time I got dragged back in, I think everyone assumed I knew the gory details, so no one told me and, to be frank, I didn’t care enough to ask. All I needed to know was that Melanie Vaughn was gone, thrown out of the Court and that you were gone following a broken engagement.”

I narrowed my eyes. Was it really possible he didn’t know what happened to Melanie? How could he have insulated himself from the truth all these years? Wouldn’t his own mother have given him the rundown? How was it possible to be a member of the Court and be that detached?

He shrugged under my stare. “I told you, I’ve never been interested in politics or the Court gossip. I meant it.”

“So, what is it you think happened to my sister?”

“I was told she disgraced herself by getting involved with a human man. When the affair was discovered, she refused to give him up or turn him into one of us, and was kicked out of the Court. Does that about sum it up?”

“She wasn’t given the chance to turn him,” I replied quietly, my words getting lost in the music. “Besides, even if she had, it’s not like that would have made it acceptable for them to be together. What would have been the point?”

He didn’t answer.

“And, as for the part about being kicked out, that wasn’t quite the case either. She ran. Left in the middle of the night. Our father sent guards after her—almost all of them. But it was too late.”

He tilted his head and considered the remnants of his drink. Without looking up, he asked, “How do you think she managed that?”

Something sparked inside my chest. A familiar bubble of panic that arose whenever talking about the night Melanie left the mansion.

“Lacey?”

I met Matthias’s gaze. “I have no idea.”

His eyes flickered.

“Everyone says I helped her get out,” I said, studying him closely.

“Did you?”

“No.”

The lie was so familiar that it felt like the truth after all these years.

Matthias looked ready to ask another question, when across the room, past the bar, a shouting match rose above the music. The patrons on the dance floor stilled and watched the two vampires who were, quite literally, at each other’s throats.

Matthias swore and jumped up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

A couple of the bartenders started toward the clash, but Matthias waved them back and continued on alone. I couldn’t see his face, but from the set of his shoulders, I had a pretty good idea what it must have looked like. The two vampires were brawling on the floor. The stockier of the two had the upper hand and was raining punches down on the other. The crowd was cheering as if they’d paid admission to a prize fight.

Matthias reached them and things moved so quickly it was hard to keep my sight tracked on him. He jerked the stocky vampire up to his feet and when the vamp took a swing at Matthias, he dodged it at the last second. The vamp’s inertia carried him off kilter when his fist found air instead of a jaw or nose. He was off balance and Matthias didn’t waste time. He grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him down hard, sending the man to his knees.

Meanwhile, the second vampire pushed himself up from the floor and stood to the side, debating whether or not to reengage. His nose was bleeding, and from the look in his eyes, he was a little dazed from the beating. Matthias grabbed the stocky vampire by the back of the neck and dragged him back up by the scruff, like he weighed nothing. He said something that I couldn’t hear and the crowd burst into taunting cheers.

They wanted more.

My stomach rolled, thinking about the impending fight that would take place. Matthias clearly had a handle on how to fight, but I still didn’t want to see him go into a ring to fight for me.

There had to be a way out.

Matthias ignored the crowd and kept his grip on the man who appeared to have been the instigator. The taller vampire wasn’t rejoining the fight. He exchanged a few words with Matthias and the vampire in his grip, and then headed for the exit, wiping blood from his lips as he went.

With a snap of Matthias’s fingers, two large men approached and escorted the stocky vampire from the dance floor. The crowd booed but Matthias said something, then waved a bartender over and the protests died off. Apparently he’d bought them all a round of drinks.

He caught my eye across the floor and held up a finger. I nodded and he went to the bar to speak with the woman who’d shown us to our table.

I threw back the rest of my own drink and reached for the bottle, pouting when I found it empty.

Since leaving the mansion, my mind had ping-ponged between anxious thoughts about Jupiter to the tournament and back again so many times I was starting to get dizzy. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me. There was something creepy-crawly about Ivan Murrad being in my room—let alone ending up murdered there. I was missing something. The explosion of violence shook me more than it normally would have and even as I read the menu, I couldn’t help but wish to get back to the safety of Matthias’s home.

“Well, well, well. Imagine the pleasure of finding you here.”

My eyes snapped up, the menu slipped from my finger.

I whipped around toward the drawled voice and found Jerrod grinning at me in a way that could only be described as predatory. Like a jaguar dropping from some jungle tree to stalk a passing deer.

“Pleasure isn’t the word I would choose,” I said, curling my lip.

Laughing, he slid into the seat beside me, so close his leg pressed against the outside of my own. I tried to jerk away, but there was nowhere to go. “Now, now, Lacey, is that any way to speak to your future husband?”

Bile rose in my throat at the stench of alcohol and his overabundance of cologne. I concealed the nausea with a flash of a smile. “Is that who I’m speaking to? My mistake, I thought you were just another one of my father’s dogs.”

He bared his teeth.

“Yes, now I see where I got that impression.” I laughed. “Do you have a nice low growl to go along with those pretty teeth?”

“In a few nights, I’ll show you exactly what I can do with these teeth. Ask anyone, none of the other suitors want me as their opponent.”

A chill spread over my skin but I refused to drop my sarcastic smile. “You really think you can win? You think my father would allow me to marry some turn? Ha!” I shook my head. “You’re there as pure entertainment. Chum in the water.”

Jerrod growled.

“There it is! I knew you had it in you.” I flashed my own teeth, my fangs begging to descend. “If you don’t believe me, then take yourself to the library—you can read, can’t you?” I flapped a hand. “If not, someone else can do it for you. The point is, there are volumes and volumes of family trees. Look through them and see if there is even one turn in there. Whatever my father has promised you, it’s all a lie. You won’t make it past the final round. So, I suggest you find a way to shake off illusions about marrying me and lose in round one or two. Otherwise, you’ll be facing that guy in the final ring,” I said, nodding at Matthias, who was still deep in conversation with the bartender.

Jerrod leaned in, his breath hot on my cheek. “He’ll have to survive long enough to get the chance.”

Something about the way he said it made the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“Besides, your father has made a promise to the Court. The winner will be determined in the ring. When I’m the last one standing, there won’t be anything you or your father can do to stop me from claiming my prize.”

The cold shudder seeped deeper into my skin, down to the bones.

Matthias glanced up and immediately stiffened. His eyes narrowed into dark slits and he all but flew across the bar to return to the table. “Get away from her,” he seethed, glaring at Jerrod.

He didn’t reach for him, but I took note of his balled fists.

“Oh, good, I was just about to see if your bouncer friend was available for another pest removal job,” I said to Matthias, looking past Jerrod.

Jerrod glared up at Matthias. “The princess’s champion, huh?”

Matthias’s green eyes flicked to mine for half a heartbeat before boring back into Jerrod. “If that’s what it takes to keep her away from someone like you, then so be it.”

His dark eyes moved back to mine and a herd of steroid-enhanced butterflies rammed into the walls of my stomach.

Steady girl. He’s just flexing his muscles. No need to get worked up about it.

Jerrod snickered but slid out of the booth. He stood and brushed past Matthias, intentionally knocking into him with his shoulder on the way. “If you don’t think your father will let you marry a turn, then you should ask him how he’d feel about you marrying a blood traitor.”

“What?” I asked.

Matthias’s jaw clenched so tight I worried he was breaking his own molars. He reached out a hand. “Come on, Lacey. We don’t need to listen to this.”

Jerrod laughed, the sound like something out of a Bond villain. “This was fun, guys. We should do it again sometime.”

With that, he wove through the tables and headed for the dance floor, getting swallowed up by the crowd.

“What was that all about?” I asked Matthias, letting him pull me to my feet.

“Just the crazed mutterings of a desperate man. Ignore him.”

There wasn’t a question in my mind that Jerrod was a little … off. But using the term blood traitor seemed a little specific to brush off as a random insult.

Whatever it was, Matthias was clearly not willing to discuss it. His forehead might as well have a permanent sign attached saying: Don’t ask.

He shepherded me through the club and back to the same hallway we’d come in through. I absently noticed that his hand was still holding mine and almost pulled it away before realizing that I actually liked the way our fingers intertwined together. His hand was large and strong, an anchor in the chaos that had consumed my life. It didn’t have to mean anything more than that.

“Thank you,” I said, glancing up at him. His stony profile softened at my words.

He met my eyes. “For what?”

“For getting him away from me. I mean, I totally could have handled him, but still.”

He chuckled. “Happy to help.”

We paused at the door, staring at one another for a long, suspended moment.

After a thick moment, he moved his eyes to the left and frowned. “You really think the decor is tacky?”

I smiled. “Tragically so.”