14. Rowan
FOURTEEN
ROWAN
“I’m not in the mood,” Rowan told Onyx, sparing no energy on politeness. He didn’t want to sit around drinking while Emile was in such a vulnerable state, even if there was nothing more he could do.
Cecile caught his arm. “We might as well get settled somewhere while I fill you in. And honestly, I could use a shot of something strong.”
“Of course. Whatever you need,” Rowan said. “I meant…”
“I know what you meant.” Onyx managed not to sound annoyed, for once. “I can be my own company. Didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Wait.” Rowan should be more gracious after the good news he’d given them. “You’re not intruding. You might as well come with us.”
Onyx grinned as if Rowan had been sweet, not grudging. “Casino?”
Rowan led the way, Kai and Evangeline breaking off to return to their usual posts and update the rest of the coven.
Lane leaned close. “Who’s the mystery man?”
“Onyx.” Rowan made basic introductions, neither explaining who Lane was to Onyx nor the fact that Onyx was a demon to Lane. The imp could choose to give himself away or not. Rowan wasn’t sure if he was still bound to secrecy around Onyx’s identity, and found it hard to care at the moment.
The sight of Emile’s charred body was burned into his mind’s eye. Fire was a cruel way to go, and Rowan fought not to remember Cris meeting that end.
At least Emile would survive. His heart was safe, and the coven would protect his body while he was vulnerable.
The casino was busy. Rowan might have insisted they go to his office, but he wasn’t sure he could handle reminders of earlier, of Lane taking him apart so carefully.
Being what he needed. Changing Rowan’s life with alarming ease.
No. He needed to hold it together until Onyx left and, more importantly, be a leader Cecile could count on after the day she’d had.
Rowan brought everyone to a private poker room. One with a window looking onto the casino floor rather than a completely secluded one. He didn’t want to feel closed in.
Trapped in a room with no way out as fire spread…
He shook off the thought and gestured to a self-service bar in the corner. “Drinks are there. Help yourselves.”
Onyx plopped into one of the chairs around the card table. “The drinks are for you, not me.” He wrinkled his nose. Of course he didn’t even want one. Typical.
Cecile didn’t hesitate to pour herself a gin, and Rowan helped himself to the bourbon, inclining his head in Lane’s direction.
“Go on. I think I need more than a beer this time.”
Rowan passed him a bourbon, and they sat. “Cecile…”
She held up a hand. “There’s no need, Rowan. I said I had it handled, and I did. I just wish Emile had never gone out alone.”
“What happened?” Rowan asked.
Cecile’s gaze flicked to Onyx, looking as grudging about trusting the demon as Rowan. It was a small comfort, but really, there was no need to doubt Onyx after the way he’d fought for the good of humanity. Even if he was incredibly irritating.
“Have you filled Nico in on the ferals?” she asked Rowan. Anything said to Nico would get back to Onyx, and vice versa, since they were mates.
“Not yet.” Nico and Rowan worked together often. If Nico knew anything, he’d have passed it on, whether it was the first he’d heard of the problem or not, but Rowan should have given him a heads-up.
It was one more thing he’d let slip through the cracks.
Onyx raised a brow. “Ferals?”
Cecile gave a concise summary of the recent attacks. “A black van was caught on camera dumping Caden behind the café. It was our only lead.”
“Emile must have caught up with whoever turned the poor vampires,” Rowan said, and Cecile nodded.
“We found him in a burned-out shed on the other side of the river. The fire was being put out, and whoever set it was long gone. We should return and check if people in the area saw anything suspicious, but it wasn’t a populated street, and the property looked abandoned.”
“No one goes alone,” Rowan warned.
“Obviously.” Cecile stood, setting aside her empty glass. “Now that I’ve stopped moving, the day is catching up with me. I need a quiet moment.”
“Of course. And Cecile…thank you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I told you, no need.” She left before he could object.
Onyx scrutinized Rowan as the door closed. “You seem tired, too.”
Rowan stiffened. “I’m fine.”
Onyx held up his hands. “That wasn’t a jab. You’re clearly having a bad week.” At Rowan’s continued glare, he seemed to give up and turned to Lane. “So, what’s your deal? You and Rowan seem close, and Nico’s never mentioned you.”
“Nico doesn’t know me.”
Onyx’s gaze turned calculating, but not without a hint of amusement. “Interesting.”
“Not as interesting as you performing healing magic when I can’t detect your power.” Lane crossed his arms and waited for Onyx to explain.
His grin intensified. “Oh, you think I’m suspicious? How fun. I bet you’re curious why I’m prancing around without a shirt, too. It’s because I flew here. I’m a demon.”
Lane’s eyes widened, his attention darting to Rowan.
His shock was warranted. Until recently, Onyx was one of the only three demons on Earth.
They were more legend than real as far as the magic world was concerned.
Even after the rest of the demons had been freed, they’d kept to themselves, and news of the new shape of the realms wasn’t yet common knowledge.
Lane might not have heard about the exodus or what happened after, but Rowan would rather share his involvement when Onyx wasn’t around to butt in.
“It’s a long story,” he said to Lane. “Now’s not the time for it, but ask me later.”
Lane smiled. Pure joy, all because Rowan offered to share this with him.
His heart fluttered.
“Look at you two,” Onyx teased, his glee nearly blinding. “Hand holding and sweet little smiles. Are you in love, Rowan?”
Embarrassment swelled inside him. He felt stripped bare. “Like I’d share anything personal with you.”
The last thing he needed was Onyx knowing how desperate he was.
How needy and mushy inside. He didn’t know the man well enough to let his impeccable image shatter, and despite himself, he cared about Onyx’s opinion.
If Onyx sneered at this side of him, as he did with everything else, it would chip another piece of Rowan’s soul away, and he wasn’t having it.
Onyx smiled wider, as if Rowan’s bitchiness pleased him. “That wasn’t a denial. Sounds like you and Nico need to catch up. Sorry, I’ve been hogging all his attention.” He clearly wasn’t sorry, the smug little thing. You’d never guess he was ancient, or the most powerful being in the building.
Rowan wished he could say Nico and Onyx made no sense, that he had no idea what his friend saw in the demon, but he couldn’t. He was well aware Nico harbored a soft spot for brats—one of the reasons Nico’s and his friendship had never shifted to lovers.
It was no wonder Onyx and Nico had been destined by fate. A steady hand and a wild flame. Rowan was happy Nico had been granted an immortal mate. He didn’t dislike Onyx, but the demon didn’t hide his less-than-flattering opinion of Rowan, and fair was fair.
Petty, but fair.
As Onyx grinned manically at him, Rowan told himself to make more of an effort to get along.
Onyx had given Nico immortal life by binding them together with eternal magic.
They were fated mates, and Rowan was grateful he wouldn’t lose Nico to death.
He’d never wanted to become a vampire, even though Rowan had offered him a place in his coven.
“Nico and I should come to one of your bite nights. So we can all catch up. Have some fun.” Onyx smirked. “He’s been telling me about them.”
Damnation. Didn’t Onyx hate him? Why would he want to come to one of his parties?
“I bet he has,” Rowan mumbled. He wasn’t opposed to the idea of Onyx at Bite Night in theory, in the spirit of all getting along, and if Onyx could be respectful for once.
“Will you be there?” Onyx asked Lane with mock innocence, his eyes comically wide.
Lane focused on his bourbon. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
Onyx pouted.
Of course Lane wouldn’t commit, not having discussed it with Rowan, but after today, he knew Rowan wanted him there. Right?
Rowan longed for Lane to sit by his side in his most guarded space, finding pleasure together, relaxed and free. When the curse was broken, he’d ask Lane to come along to the next event.
Surely he’d be as interested as he was all those years ago.
Lane, it turned out, was a fairly open book.
Rowan was the one who had strict rules outlining his life.
Would he pull away and settle into a more familiar relationship with Lane once the curse was gone?
Something casual and solely revolving around Bite Night encounters?
He tried to picture it, and couldn’t pretend it was what he wanted. Not after what happened in his office and the way Lane had stood by him in the clinic. He couldn’t give this up.
Fantasies of Lane by his side in all things grew.
No one will want you forever, the Cris in his head sneered.
Rowan clenched his fist. He wouldn’t believe it. Cris could fuck off. Rowan wasn’t worthless, and Lane wouldn’t hurt him or treat him carelessly. Rowan didn’t have to carry around the unworthiness Cris had tried to bake into his very existence. It wasn’t real.
But even knowing all this—telling himself he could face his fears of rejection, not let old pain overshadow his growing trust in Lane—Cris’s presence seemed to lurk in Rowan’s blood as strong as it ever had.
Commotion out the window called Rowan’s attention. A man yelled at the employee overseeing the roulette wheel, gesturing aggressively. Security moved in as another customer came to the employee’s defense.
Lane followed Rowan’s gaze and sucked in a breath.
“What is it?” Rowan did a double-take, but didn’t recognize the man causing trouble, or anyone involved not employed by him.
Lane went pale. “He was with the man who cursed me. The Hillmans.”