CHAPTER THREE
A biting wind had recently arrived, chilling the nights of New City. The glitter of the well-developed and stunning metropolis couldn’t halt the creep of cold. It was Mother Nature rearing her head to all mortals. Soon the days would start to chill too, my favorite time of year.
I’ve come, Mother Nature says. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.
Bring it, Bitch. Bring it hard.
My thoughts wandered to a man with golden eyes who knew how to bring it hard. If the sweet ache between my thighs was any indication, I would remember that stiff ride into tomorrow. I pulled my black sweater tighter around me as I walked another block closer to my apartment. The train I’d taken from work only took me so far—only so much cash to use. The dark night didn’t bother me, though. I was used to the shadows, having lived in them the majority of my twenty-one years of existence.
I brought two fingers to my lips, realizing I was smiling. I touched the soft flesh, pleasantly surprised, giddiness adding an extra bounce to my step. It had been a long while since I’d been happy. Who knew all it would take was an excellent fuck and some flirting for a half hour afterward—before he and his friends had left.
We hadn’t made plans to see one another again. Not right then. He was intelligent enough to know that was too fast for me.
The man-god had been very careful during our entire encounter. I never once panicked. He didn’t scare me or make me want to run away or push him to the curb. I don’t know why, but he was cautious. He didn’t do relationships, and neither did I. We all have our reasons, and I didn’t need to know his. But, damn, our time together had been enjoyable. Electricity had flown like a live wire between us, even after we’d had sex. I wouldn’t mind seeing him again—just not too soon.
We simply…got along. Our dirty humor was the same, as was our bluntness.
I didn’t know much about the man besides that, and that was all right. I didn’t need to know more. And I certainly didn’t care about his business dealings. He was one of the most powerful men on this planet, and what happened behind closed doors could stay that way. As long as he treated me well when we were together.
A not-so-simple girl with simple expectations in men.
And, yet, no men had truly impressed me. Except for him.
My brows puckered as I glanced behind me. Under the iron streetlights, the path was clear. No one was there, but a sudden chill had tiptoed up my spine, an instinctive feeling of being watched. My eyes narrowed on the shadows of an alleyway, my fingers dropping from my lips to finger one of the knives I had hidden in my pants. But I still saw no one.
The sick life I’d lived made me paranoid half the time. I knew it.
This was one of those times.
Thank you, Father. For you have sinned and made my life hell.
I sighed and cracked my neck before turning back around. Almost to my apartment. To a place I could actually call my own—for the first time in my life. It wasn’t the backseat of a rusted car. It wasn’t a hard floor and a dirty pillow at a friend’s place. It wasn’t a hard squeeze behind a dumpster for safety throughout the night. It wasn’t a penthouse either, not by a long stretch of the imagination.
But it was mine.
I couldn’t help but glance back once more into the night before I stepped into the simple atrium of my apartment building, my eyes scanning the streets lit by a white glow. Trains passed by in the air, their clean blue energy cascading down on the road. A few wayward and chatty groups walked between the trains, crossing the lane to their destinations. The metal of swords gleamed on their backs while their colorful outfits swooshed around their bodies with each step. Nothing was amiss to the trained eye—and I had two good ones.
I shook my head and shut the glass door behind me. I yawned and stretched as I strolled to the elevator that would take me to the eighth floor—to my apartment.
That would never get old.
My.
Mine.
I loved just thinking it. I didn’t even need to say it aloud.
Work tomorrow would be hell, but all was well. For once. I was working a double, and it would pay well. Tomorrow was Friday. The busiest day of the week to drink.
I grinned, showing my teeth in the mirrored reflection of the elevator doors.
The tips would be plentiful. Mama just might get a new pair of knives.
* * *
My spine stiffened as I rubbed spots off a clean glass the next evening, the white rag in my hand brushing even harder. I watched the tall, muscular man who entered the bar with a narrowed gaze. It was already dark outside, so the brightness of the streetlights was a bizarre spotlight as the glass door shut behind him. I wasn’t the only one to notice him, either.
At a bare minimum, half of the male occupants turned in his direction. Eyes widened. Brief flickers of fear passed over their expressions. Then it was as if the sea parted, most scattering aside as he walked forward.
The man barely glanced back and forth, in a cold once-over of the room, before he headed to his destination. The bar. Or, more aptly, the bar stool directly in front of where I stood. He sat with a small flourish of whipping his silver fur coat out behind him, so he didn’t sit on it, and pushed the hood of his cloak back, revealing his chaotic hairstyle of silver hair. The hilts of two impressive swords crossed over his back could be seen on either side of his head. His light blue t-shirt underneath stretched across his toned chest as he ran his fingers through his hair, his gunmetal silver eyes lifting to stare directly into mine.
I cleared my throat and peered back down to the glass I was fervently cleaning. “You need shoes on to be served in here, Cassander.” I managed to keep my voice from shaking—this man was intimidating on a whole different level.
And what was it with this group? I’d been working here almost a month. I hadn’t seen any of them once, and yet, here they were popping up like nightmares left and right. I sincerely hoped they weren’t planning on making this their new drinking establishment.
Cassander pushed on the bar, and the barstool twirled in a circle, taking him on a merry little spin, his coat flying out behind him. When it stopped, righted back in my direction, he asked with clear amusement, “Are you going to kick me out?”
I snorted and placed the glass down below the bar. I wouldn’t try fighting this man if my life depended on it. I’d run as fast as I could in the opposite direction and pray he wasn’t playing cat and mouse with me. I hooked a thumb over my shoulder at the shelves behind me, asking, “What’ll it be?”
“Hmm.” His quicksilver eyes studied the selection. “Two shots of bourbon and a draft beer. I don’t care what kind.”
I ground my teeth together as I got to work. His order meant he’d be staying a while to drink into the night. Those were beginner drinks intended to keep the body warm, not giving an instant buzz. With extreme care, I set his drinks in front of him, asking, “Are you starting a tab?”
He nodded. Downed one shot.
I grabbed the translucent mini-pad and handed it over to him, waiting patiently as he pressed it to his silver bracelet and confirmed an open tab with the bar. My ears perked when he stated a fifty percent tip to be added at the end of the night.
Well, all right. I guess he could stay and party the night away.
He handed the mini-pad back over to me, watching as I placed it back in its charging holster under the shelves. “So it looks like you got a job like I told you to.”
I rolled my eyes and leaned back against the shelves, and draped the white rag over my shoulder. “Yes, it was good advice. Do you want a thank you for it?”
“No. That’s not needed.” He smiled…but it didn’t reach his eyes. He downed the other shot and pointed at the two empty glasses, indicating he wanted more. “Meet anyone interesting yet?”
My brows puckered as I truly evaluated his appearance, running my gaze over his features.
Cassander looked…tired. Like, bone weary tired.
As if he had looked death in the eye and didn’t like what he saw. There was no sign of the lively and spirited man I had met once before. In his place was a cold individual who was merely living.
I licked my lips and grabbed the bottle of bourbon. I prided myself on the fact my hand didn’t shake as I refilled his shot glasses. As I marked his new drink on the mini-pad, I answered his question, “Actually, friends of yours came in yesterday. Mr. Baker, Mr. Cooper, and Mr. Mason. They stayed a little while and chatted.”
He hummed. “Finn, Wolfe, and Rune can be a handful.”
I nodded in agreement and decided to touch a subject that could get dicey. “So, your brother. Is he really on vacation?” I had learned Cassander and Godric King were brothers during my escape from the kidnapper.
I knew I hit the nail on the head when his nostrils flared. His mouth tightened as he lifted a shot glass. My eyes skipped over the individuals inside the bar who happened to glance in our direction. It was a weird crowd tonight. Cassander tipped his head back and swallowed, then lifted the other shot glass, and downed it.
He pointed at the empties again. Not one word exited his mouth.
I swallowed on a dry throat. A killer was staring out at me through those silver eyes. It was time to retreat from that line of questioning, his brother so obviously not on vacation. I grabbed the bourbon again, and asked in a chipper voice, hoping to dissuade him from flying over the bar to strangle me, “What brings you here tonight, anyway?”
Cassander stretched his shoulders and grumbled, “My job.”
I blinked as I poured his drinks. “You’re working around here?”
And drinking at the same time?
He shrugged, the silver fur on his coat swaying. “I had a feeling I needed to be here tonight.” He lifted the beer he hadn’t touched yet and waved it at me—as if that explained everything. “So I’m here. Working.”
I picked up the mini-pad again, marking down his two new shots. “Cassander, can I be frank with you?”
“Always.” He sipped at his beer, eyeing me over the edge of the glass.
“I don’t get you. At all.” I set the mini-pad down. “You rescue damsels in distress, wear hostility like a second skin, and speak in riddles.” Not to mention, you can do what no human being can. Oh, like jump a story high.
His lips twitched, and yet, there was still no humor in his gaze. “You’ll figure me out soon enough. You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about me. No matter what, I’m—tragically—one of the good guys.”
“Tragically?”
“Most definitely.”
I leaned forward on a whim and whispered with extreme caution, “Then why do all those men behind you stare at you in fear?”
He blinked. “Because I’ll be the one to kill them.”
My jaw went slack. I couldn’t stop blinking, my face only inches away from his.
This peculiar man was dead serious.
I blinked again, and hissed, “You’re not doing it tonight, are you?” The thought of a bomb going off inside the bar—for his “work”—didn’t sound like a good guy to me.
He waved a bored hand in the air. “Fuck no. Only when they wish for it, and I deem it the correct course of action.”
My blue eyes flicked to the men staring behind him.
As one, they all heaved a reassured sigh, chests lowering in relief. Then they went back to talking as if they had been able to hear our hushed conversation with perfect ease. Some were even laughing and punching each other in the shoulders in some type of celebration.
But Cassander suddenly stiffened, his head tipping up as he sniffed the air.
His silver eyes narrowed into dangerous slits…and I quickly jerked back, straightening and backing away from him. His teeth showed briefly in a silent snarl, still staring at me, and then he growled in quiet fury. “What the fuck is she doing here?”
My head snapped around the bar. “Huh?”
No one seemed out of place.
Then the door to the bar opened. In strolled Poppy Carvene. And she was wearing a pair of black pajamas, her gorgeous red hair tousled like she hadn’t run a brush through it in a couple of days and dark circles were under her eyes making her appear ghostly with her pale skin.
She stopped dead in her tracks halfway to the bar, everyone giving her a wide berth, too, when she noticed who was sitting across from me, his rigid back to her. Her Cupid’s bow mouth parted, and she muttered under her breath, “Goddammit.”