There were no bouncers or velvet ropes, no demands for the secret password. Just the ancient gargoyle and the doors and a small plaque reminding me this was hallowed ground, so could I please check my weapons at the armory inside the narthex?
I practically snorted.
Fat fucking chance.
This was no Temple of the Dark Moon. Just because Elian’s den of supernatural sin was housed in an old church, that didn’t make it hallowed ground any more than it made him a priest.
No one showed up in a place like this looking for redemption, anyway.
They showed up looking for an escape.
Or in my case—to beg.
Damn it.The thought of evenfacingthat prick again—let alone asking him for help—tied me up in knots. But what choice did I have? My sisters’ lives depended on me seeing this all the way through, and Elian truly was my best shot at surviving the horrors of Midnight.
Probably myonlyshot.
So, decked out in a new lace dress the color of the stars and thigh-high leather boots I’d picked out just to make him suffer, strapped from hip to ankle with weapons that would finish the job if the outfit failed, I pushed open the doors and stepped inside.
And immediately fell under its spell.
Everything about the place was designed to hypnotize, from the rich, blood-red walls to the restored stained-glass windows that pulsed with magick. Suspended in gilded cages from the ceiling, painted fae couples performed dances so erotic, I was already wishing for a cold shower. Semi-private candlelit alcoves lined both sides of the former cathedral, and the pews had been removed from the nave, the flooring replaced with black marble that glittered with tiny silver points.
It looked as if the club’s many revelers were dancing across the night sky.
I was relieved not to spot Elian among them. Despite the fever-inducing performances of the fae dancers, five years’ worth of resentment and abandonment issues still simmered inside, and one look into his entrancing silver eyes would set it all ablaze.
Not a fire I wanted to face while sober.
Chin raised, shoulders squared, I beelined for the bar and slid into an empty barstool at the end, trying to spot any potential threats. Hunters were always my first concern, but we’d taken a pretty big bite out of their organization during the Battle at Blackmoon Bay. Those who remained loyal to their fucked-up cause would likely be licking their wounds for a good long while.
Here at Saints and Sinners, vampires and fae made up the majority of the clientele, all of them rich, well-dressed, and predatory. The fae were even more refined than the bloodsuckers, their otherworldly beauty as mesmerizing as it was dangerous.
The bartender, though… He didn’t fit the profile. Demon. Rough around the edges. A head of messy, jet-black hair and a mouth so sultry it was almost a crime to look at. He wore a white dress shirt and dark slacks but no tie, his sleeves rolled up to reveal muscular forearms mapped with scars.
My own scars practically tingled in response.
As he finished up with one of his vampire customers, I studied him. Another sexy scar ran the full length of his face, slicing through his eyebrow and ending in the dark stubble along his jaw. A black patch covered the injured eye.
When he finally made his way over to me, he nodded and set a coaster on the bar, but didn’t smile or say hello. Just waited, arms crossed over his broad chest, one blue eye glowering at me like he was daring me to ask about the missing one.
What Ireallywanted to ask was what time he got off work and how soon he’d like to get started on becoming my next ex-boyfriend, but…
“Drinking or leaving, new girl?” he asked, smooth and cold as ice. “You’re holding up the line.”
I took a deep breath, trying to re-focus on the mission.
Midnight.
Begging.
Elian.
“Drinking. Definitely drinking. I’ll have… I don’t know.” I offered a flirty smile. “Whatever you think I’ll like.”
He leaned in close, his demonic scent enveloping me. It reminded me of the smoke that lingered in your hair when you spent too much time by the fire, a hint of lemon simmering beneath it, and holyhelldid I want to jump across the bar and—
“I need a bit more to go on,” he said, then shot me an icy grin to match his voice. “If it’s not too much trouble for you.”
