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“You know that shit could kill you, Knight.”
“Not me,” I growl, keeping my eyes locked on the ceiling. Hooks bolted in, where rope connects and dangles down for the dancers.
The Mage must slide into my booth—the darkest fucking booth in the club—because her voice sounds closer. Blinking through the haze, it’s obvious how delayed my thought process is.
But I don’t care.
I need answers and I know I’m not going to get any tonight, so tonight, I’ll drink. For him.
For her.And because of how much Ihate her.
Jesus. I am fucked up.
“Now, now, my lord…” her voice dips low and I finally drag my attention off the ceiling and bring it directly to her. Zhara is the kind of Mage you find yourself wondering how good she’d feel around your cock. I didn’t have to wonder hard, since I laid her flat on her back more times than I could count.
Personally? Mid.
She flicks her long black hair over her shoulder, the glossy strands hitting the strobe light every time it flashes. “Do they know anything about the King’s death yet?” Her head tilts to the side, and I watch as her fingers start tapping against the table. She’s restless.
“Whatever you want to say, spit it out.”
Pause. Then she reaches over and takes the bottle of alcohol off me, bringing it to her burgundy-colored lips for a long swig. “I don’t have anything to say.” She swipes the bottom of her lip with her thumb. “For now.”
“But,” I snap, forcing my mouth open when she hands the bottle back to me to take another drink.
“But. I feel something.”
My eyes drift over her shoulder to the front door, where they open slightly and a small figure wearing a hood walks through, heading to the other end of the bar. The girl pulls out a stool and slides over top. I wonder if she’ll remove her hood.
“Knight?”
“What?” I come back to the Mage. “Spit it out. I’m not in the mood for riddles.”
She slides closer to me, and I lean back, needing distance.
“If you’re here for my dick,Zhara, then I suggest you go elsewhere because all I’ll give you tonight is a death wish.”
She chuckles, her head tipping back before settling back on me. I can’t be fucked with her trickery tonight, so I turn back to the young girl to see if she’s removed her hood yet, but the seat she was on is empty.
Swallowing the rest of my drink, I slide out of the booth, needing distance between me and this fucked up reality. First the King, then the fight with London. The stubborn fucking bitch. Any time she’s angry all I picture is my hand around her throat and my cock in her mouth. In that order.
“Wait!” The Mage’s hand stops me as she squeezes my arm. “Knight…”
I look down at her one last time, watching as the color in her eyes turns to an opaque white.
“There’s… fire. And snow. Cold… so cold… but… so hot?”
I force my arm out of her grip. “Once again you’ve proven neither of your lips are worth shit.”
Six
London??
The King is dead.The King is dead, and no one told me. I had to find out by listening to the guards and their boss as they shifted some of them around at the last minute. There must be hundreds of them marching up and down these halls, their steps silent, no proof of their presence outside of the sight of them.
I’m not sure why it stings to know the boys didn’t tell me but why would they? I’m not one of theirs … not that I want to be.
But Knight must be—
