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Chapter 1 Yue

Music pumps through the speakers, blasting in my ears. I shut the first door, sealing the sound from the strip club away. Though the music is loud enough to shake the damn building, on the outside it's quiet as a tomb. The power of magic is incredible. I crack my neck, roll my shoulders, and meander to my perch near the building's main door. It’s the entryway all humans take every night. A bit of music hits my eardrums, alerting me that someone's left the building. Since only the guys and the owners are here, there's no need to worry. A heavy hand slaps my back, and I grin, spinning around to find Adwin Boye. His sienna locs fall a little against his shoulders, thick and magnificent as the rest of him. Adwin is around six-three, but everything about him to me screams adorable.

A boyish smile takes over his face. "Yue," he says in a sing-song voice. "What are the numbers looking like for the week?"

I glide off my bar stool by the front door, and I pinch his cheeks. Fire courses through his veins, fluttering under his cool copper skin. On his naked chest, veins glow for a beat, creating a magnificent painting. Whirlwinds of purple, red, and orange flash in his eyes. Unlike most phoenix shifters, Adwin is hella shy when it comes to touch. He lets me get away with it, though.

"You're going to win," I say with a wink.

Dipping sideways, I reach for a small notebook sitting on the table. The forcefield around it glows, shining brightly for a moment as I ease my hand through it. Most places wouldn't require a forcefield to guard a dumbass notebook chronicling how many women come each night for each stripper, but most places aren't like Midnight Embers.

A few weeks ago, Adwin, Ashari Black, Desmond Godfrey, and the bane of my existence, Ekon Lunet, bet on which one of them was the most sought-after stripper. The four of them aren't the only strippers working at Midnight, but they are definitely the most popular. I flip open my notebook, scanning the numbers.

"You guys are neck and neck," I explain, holding the small pad close so he can't see the numbers. "However, I know your new set will put you over the edge. Playing the sax? That’s genius."

Adwin grins. "Thanks for all that you do, Yue."

"What's going on over here?" ponders a low voice.

Ashari appears, skin deep chocolate with warm undertones. He throws an arm over Adwin's shoulder. Together, the two of them look like twins, but Ashari is slightly taller, around six-five. They both have locs, a staple for men in New Orleans, though one has brown hair and the other has jet-black hair. Ashari's locs are damn near to the bottom of his pecs. Like Adwin, Ashari surfaces shirtless, but nothing happens to me. Women would write music about how toned and good their bodies look, but I got nothing happening. I wish, wish my pussy would just fucking listen... but no. This bitch does what it wants.

I blow out a huff, eyes rolling. Where there is Ashari... there is the jackass. As if I called him, he emerges, jeans hanging low on his waist. That treacherous bitch, my pussy, pulses right away. I scan the jackass's body, throat tightening and mouth drying like I eat sandpaper for fun. Warm brown skin glistens on his chiseled chest, sending my heart into a frenzy. Layers of muscle cover his naked arms. Brown locs hang a little beyond his shoulder blades, framing a strong jaw. At six-four, Ekon is every woman's dream... including my own.

Wicked brown eyes gleam at me, and a vicious smile accompanies them. He scans my body, lingering over the cutouts on my dress that reveal my toned belly. My ass cheeks hang out, and he tilts his head sideways, assessing them.

"Damn, Yue," Ekon whispers, his deep voice a rasp against my ears as he moves closer. "Who are you dressed to impress tonight?"

"None of your damn business," I reply. "Besides, this is how I always dress." It's not, and I hate that he's right.

"Not exactly," he states, waving his hand from the top of my head to my midsection. "You have more ass showing tonight than usual. Trust me, I'd know." He snickers before grabbing a loose white coil on my head. He tugs it, and the simple pull vibrates my entire body.

"Eat a dick."

"You're so damn cute."

"Shut up."

His full lips only pull tighter into a massive grin. "How's the competition going?"

"You're dead fucking last," I reply with a shrug.

The cocky jackass snorts. "I fucking doubt that," he states, lifting his muscular biceps to his lips. He kisses each one and winks at me, like I'm a woman buying his attention for the night. "I'm probably first, like always."

"Fuck off," I hiss, flicking my hand.

He doesn't move, but Ashari belts out a burst of laughter.

Adwin shakes his head, glancing between the two of us. "I wish you two would fix your work relationship."

I turn to Adwin, popping my hip and placing my hand on it. "And I wish this jackass wouldn't treat every woman here like free pussy, but here we are," I explain, hiking my thumb toward Ekon.

Those wicked eyes flash, twisting between human dark brown and the gargoyle gray. "Yue, you know you love me."

"Go away," I breathe. "Don't you guys need to get ready?" I check my watch, noting the time.

Midnight Embers opens every night at dusk in New Orleans, rain or fucking shine. It's fifteen minutes until dusk. While the main guys don't go on stage right away, set to dance every hour starting at eleven for our peak night hours, they are responsible for helping the newbies get their shit together. Our latest newbie starts thirty minutes after we open, which means these guys, or at least one of them, should be back there helping him prepare.

I narrow my eyes. "Where is Desmond?"