He lifts me to my feet and backs up a few paces before nodding at Zeke to continue. Quinn comes up and helps Zeke lower her body gingerly into her grave, both boys filling the hole with dirt.
“Come on, Angel. I’ll take you back.” Sterling guides me back to where his bike is parked, pausing momentarily as we pass Aamon. Through hazy vision and tear filled eyes, I swear I see a challenge in the look they give each other. But Aamon doesn’t intervene. And after a painfully awkward moment, Sterling leads me to his bike and secures me behind him before disappearing into the night.
Icling to Sterling the whole ride through the ungoverned district. I don’t look up, I don’t even think. I just press myself against his back and bury my face in the leather of his cut, the grip on my chest fading with every mile we put between us and all those bodies. The tears have stopped, but their absence has left behind a hollow feeling that I can’t seem to shake.
I should have known, should have been able to piece together that something like this was happening. My father’s disdain for anything touched by the Arcane runs deep. I’m a perfect example of that. But it never occurred to me that he could bethiscruel. It goes against everything I’ve been raised to believe. To be pure, to actright.To not be like those touched by the Arcane. All of thoseWatcher values and mindsets. The very thing they ingrained in us to believe sets us apart from the Arcane.
But the truth is right in front of me. I was a fool to miss it then, and I’d be a fool to deny it now. Those citizens deserved an opportunity for a better life.Dinadeserved better. And I don’t know how, I don’t know when. But I vow to get retribution for the callousness of my father’s wrath.
When Sterling slows to a stop and cuts the motor, I finally let go of him. To my surprise, we aren’t in the parking lot of the clubhouse, but what appears to be a back alley. Judging by the steady yet distant thumping of a bass, I’m assuming we are just outside the Market Ebon.
“What are we doing here?” I ask. I wrap my arms around myself, Aamon's leather jacket crinkling at the movement.
“Club business,” is all he offers. “Besides,” he looks over his shoulder to meet my gaze. “You seem like you could use a drink.”
That, I can’t argue with. So I dismount the bike alongside him and let him lead me through the back entrance. The inside hallway is dark. The further we venture down the space, the louder the steady beat grows. The walls and concrete floor are painted red from the overhead bulbs, casting an eerie glow to everything the light touches.
My hand is in Sterling’s as he leads me through the dimly lit space. At first it’s just back of house storage. Boxes of alcohol and cleaning supplies—mundane items required forstocking and running a business such as this. But then we turn a corner and he lifts a black velvet curtain for me to pass through. On the other side is a wider passageway, sprinkled with bodies bent towards one another in an intimate dance, pressing each other up against walls, limbs tangling and fingers diving under clothes. Tongues pass over exposed, redwashed skin—sharp, pointed teeth glint in the dark. The cacophony of moans and ragged breaths rises over the thumping rhythm of the music.
I avert my gaze instinctively, turning back towards Sterling.
“It’s okay," he purrs into my ear when I run straight into his chest. He doesn’t back up, nor does he let me through the curtain he's dropped back into place. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my neck, and it feels dangerous—being in such close proximity to him in a place like this.
“Sterling, they’re . . .” But I don’t have the nerve to finish my statement. As if he’s unaware of the activities taking place behind me. As if he wouldn’t suggest we do the same in a heartbeat. Suddenly, I’m incapable of breathing. Is that why he’s brought me here? Heat floods my cheeks, embarrassment swallowing me whole.
“I know.” There’s a soft, breathy laugh on the words. “They don’t mind if you see.”
“Maybe I do,” I say through gritted teeth, because I’m irritated he assumed I’d be okay with this—and I’m equally as irritated that I’m not. I've never considered myself aprude. I’ve taken every opportunity life’s presented me with in the past month to become well acquainted with the desires of the flesh. But this . . . this is a world I’ve never once experienced. Never even knew existed.
“We can go through the front entrance,” he offers, tilting his head back towards the direction we just came. “But I figured you would prefer to avoid the sea of people currently swarming the Market Ebon. The crowds are heavy this time of night and things can get . . . intense. This felt more private.”
And damn him, because he’s right. My hackles lower, sensing the sincerity in his voice. “Fine,” I breathe out. Sterling grabs me gently by the shoulders and turns me back around. “Just keep your head down, Angel.”
I moan in disapproval, letting him know how little I like this idea.
“Or don’t,” he chuckles. “I’m not one to kink shame.”
That earns him an elbow to the stomach as he nudges me forward.
“Fuck,” he grunts, the word melting into a laugh. “Okay, point taken. Just follow my lead.”
He slips around me, taking my hand once more and leading me through the hallway effortlessly. He’s not even the least bit put off by the open displays of intimacy we snake our way through, and I’m struck with the realization that this likely isn’t the first time he’s done this. I do keep my head down, because the deep shade of crimson I’msure is growing in my cheeks is a dead giveaway for how inexperienced this place makes me feel. But I do peek up to watch his movement. To see if he’s watching the others around us.
The small glimpse shows that every few paces are solid, hand carved black wooden doors. The bodies mingling in the hallway slip in and out of the rooms, in groups of two. Three. Four.
I drop my gaze back to the stained concrete floor when a female in an intoxicating red dress catches me watching her. She offers back a hint of a smile, revealing the point of a pearly white fang, before disappearing behind the last door in the hall with two males.
“What are these rooms?” I ask Sterling as we reach the end of the hallway. He pushes open a door to reveal a busy bar on the other side. The space behind us must have been somewhat soundproof, because a wall of music smacks me in the face as I cross the threshold. The incessant bass is now so loud it rattles my eardrums. A thick haze of cigarette smoke twines around the bodies filling the dance floor.
Sterling ducks down close so I can hear his response over the noise. “Red rooms.”
“Red rooms?” I repeat, turning back to look at him as we wade into the dancing bodies.
He nods, his eyes trained carefully on me. His stare is intense, the silver in his eyes nearly sparking with intent. “This is Bloodlust, a vampire bar. All kinds are welcome,of course. But our kind have an affinity for certain . . . extracurricular activities. The red rooms provide us the opportunity to blow off some steam. To be discreet.” He leans in, his hands finding my hips as he moves me softly to the beat of the music pumping through the crowd. “To feast upon whatever fantasies spark our interest.”
Goosebumps prick my skin and I look over his shoulder back at the door we just came through. I remember it now, from this perspective. I’d noticed it the last night I’d ventured into the Market Ebon. The couple at the bar beside me had excused themselves to whatever secrets lie beyond it. Now that I know, I can’t help but imagine what things they partook in beyond that door. What things Sterling would do if I granted him the opportunity to take me.
“Let’s get you that drink,” he whispers in my ear, but his grip on my hips tightens as he says it. I inhale sharply, but then he’s gone and I’m spinning quickly to keep him in my field of vision so I don’t lose him entirely in the crowd.
