Page 5 of Hunger & Harmony

Niklaus imposes on the doorway, taller and broader than I expected. I can’t stop my eyes from wandering enough to appreciate how his waist tapers. It’s not my fault the dip of his neckline is unfairly enticing. What’s not hidden behind black linen and leather is like marble, pale and flawless.

His cheekbones are sharp, but his eyes are sharper. Not only that, but his lips are formed into a perfect frown. Is he scowling at me?

“Juice box?” I echo.

Ezren snickers into his blood pouch. Selene and Lorelai look between him and me. Ryel remains occupied with his guitar strings, and Cass doesn’t even look up from his laptop.

Sure, I know nothing about him. It’s still obvious that the leader of Arteria, the actual king of vampires, just insulted me.

“Excuse you?”

I don’t care about any of his titles. He has zero right to be rude.

“Better a juice box than a jerk.”

Tension dampens the air. His jaw tightens. Cass raises his head.

To think I appreciated the sight. All the better, I guess. This is why I stick to pop princes.

When he scoffs and rips his gaze from mine, oxygen returns to my lungs. I steady my heartbeat, figuring every immortal here is aware of the rapid thumping.

“Anyway,” Lorelai says with a nervous chuckle. “C’mon, Cadence, let’s get you familiar with everything.”

The moment I stand, Niklaus tenses. I try to ignore him as I cross the room, but the closer I get, the more his features contort in horror. What is his problem? He’s practically lunging in the opposite direction.

Funny. An over six-foot vampire king being cautious about a five-foot-three human nobody who can’t even manage one push-up.

I don’t need a messy attraction to my boss. I really don’t need a tense relationship with him, either. All I want is freedom. To tour with Arteria and experience everything I never have. I just want to bend the rules.

Though I’m pretty sure I just snapped them in half.

2

JUICE BOX

“And one final thing.”

There seems to be a lot of “final things” at this company—one last comment here, a final rundown of yet another routine there. Lorelai doesn’t seem to run out of energy, either.

Given it’s nearly one in the morning, I’m running off iced coffee flavored fumes. Still, it’s easier to keep my drooping eyes open when I remember I’m working at West Court Records. That’s hard to forget with the logo glowing neon red on the wall of this meeting room. We’ve been here for hours; the dim, warm lighting is awfully cozy for tedious work.

When my attention drifts from my work phone, the full-length windows grab it. Below, the city of Sunveil is alive. It teems with lights, cars, and activity, even on a Monday night.

Beyond the city, the ocean lies in the far distance. A waxing crescent moon gleams above, tucked between stars and wisps of clouds. I’ll be seeing more of the moon than ever before. She’ll be my beacon of promise and hope.

“Out of all the routines and rules, the number one thing to remember is compliance.”

Lorelai points her pink bunny pen at me, the little ears at the top wiggling.

“You’re the assistant. Your number one job is keeping the band happy. Doing what they need and, more importantly, what they want at any given time.” Her voice lowers. “Which means not being combative with His Majesty, okay?”

“Combative? I was just defending myself,” I say, but she shakes her head.

“Girl, do you not get it? Compliance. Com-pli-ance. It doesn’t matter who’s right or wrong.”

“What? I have to let him walk all over me?”

“All the members, yes, but especially him.” She glances me over before she says, “Are you not even scared?”