15. Artemis
15 ARTEMIS
I slide into the dark booth, eyeing the man who definitely shouldn’t be anywhere near Bow & Arrow.
“Pretty sure my brother warned you away.”
Kade smirks.
“He tell you about our little conversation?”
“He mentioned having a chat with you.”
Tonight, he’s dressed in all black.
Silky black dress shirt—buttoned a respectable way up his chest—and black slacks.
Black shoes and socks.
Well, okay, I’m assuming.
His legs are under the table, but I would assume it’s all matching.
Imagine if he was wearing neon-yellow socks?
I tilt to the side and glance under the table.
Nope, black.
Whew.
“What are you doing?”
Something else catches my eye, but I sit up straighter and shake my head.
“Just making sure things are in top order for our VIP guests. How did you get into this lounge anyway?”
“I paid.” He flashes the sleek black bracelet that denotes our very important patrons .
I suppress my irritation that he waltzed in.
Somehow.
“You’re blacklisted,” I inform him.
He braces his forearms on the table and leans in.
“I have a fake ID.” His voice is low, conveying the secrecy, but the words somehow coasts across the distance to me.
My lips part, and then I’m scowling and holding out my hand.
To his credit, he retrieves his wallet from his pocket and places it in my palm.
I flip it open and tug out the ID on top.
Thomas Atwater.
Great.
I examine it closer, trying to spot something that will give it away—but there’s nothing.
Either I suck at this or it’s a really stellar fake.
Which I hope is the latter because otherwise I’ll be firing my bouncer.
There’s no sign of his real ID in the wallet.
He has a credit card in the name Atwater, too.
“Are you sure your real name is Kade?”
He smiles.
“Fine,” I relent, handing it back.
“Are you here to try and cajole me into finding Reese?” Again .
“Nah.” He catches the attention of a waitress.
When she arrives at the table, she casts a confused glance in my direction.
Probably doesn’t help that I’ve been playing hooky from working for the past twenty-four hours.
I followed up with Antonio, and he gave me slack.
Said he had it covered, that it would be understandable for me to take some time off.
Most of my life is spent in this place…
and here I am, supposedly taking personal days, right back here again.
“Artemis,” she says.
“Do you want your usual?”
I smile and nod.
It’s not her I’m annoyed with anyway.
It’s the guy sitting across from me, who seems to enjoy getting around my security measures.
Reese does, too.
I should find him .
Not for Kade, but because he very well might’ve had something to do with that bomb.
The bomb he disarmed.
He was gone before the sheriff found the amphitheater, which leads me to question why .
Why is he in Sterling Falls?
Why did he seek out that place ?
What good is any of this doing?
“Put it on my tab,” Kade says, sliding a black credit card across the table to the waitress.
“And I’ll have another.”
Her eyes round.
“Artemis drinks for free?—”
“So charge him double,” I order, leaning back and crossing my arms. To him, I say, “This isn’t impressing me.”
“What do you drink?”
Answering him, giving him any information at all, seems dangerous.
My gaze drops to the highball glass in front of him.
It’s got a sip left in it, the liquid looking slightly tinted.
Maybe whiskey, diluted with ice…
“It’s a Manhattan.”
“I didn’t ask,” I reply.
He lifts a shoulder.
“So if you’re not here to get me to find Reese, then why?”
His gaze roves from my face down…
down . I swallow. My assets , for lack of a better term, are more of a hinderance than anything.
Or an insecurity, I guess.
I wear clothing that shows off my breasts and hips, I don’t make an attempt to hide it, and yet I hate when it gains me unwanted attention.
“Can’t I just want to talk to a pretty girl?”
“No,” I blurt out.
“Not when you’re here under suspicious circumstances.”
He snorts.
“Okay, Tem.”
“You can’t call me that.”
“You’re right. We’re going to be more than friends.”
I shake my head.
Of all the things I should be doing, sitting here entertaining this is low on my list of priorities.
And yet, I find that I don’t want to leave.
I’m curious about him, and he’s being forthcoming for once.
Of all the mysteries right now, this one seems the easiest to pick apart.
“You find that funny?”
“I find it funny that you’re trying to hit on me.”
And yet…
My face slowly heats the longer he stares at me.
Because it isn’t probing or inquisitive, it’s hot.
A smolder like none other I’ve encountered, and irrational fucking butterflies flutter in my chest.
He’s handsome.
I noted as much before, his roguish charm helping him out in that regard.
It’s the confidence, too.
He doesn’t give a shit if I reject him—it just makes him try harder.
It’s not fair.
“Where’s your guard dog today?” His voice is pitched low.
Saint.
I wince, all the heat falling away from me, the walls around me stacking back up again.
He almost had me for a minute there.
“My brother was a Hell Hound.” I keep my tone mild.
“And?”
“The new recruits were all so curious about him and his friends. Guess who they came to for information?” I meet his dark gaze.
“They’d flirt. They’d make me think the conversation was about me. And then they’d reveal their intentions.”
His lips flatten.
Just for a second. Then, “Let’s dance.”
I don’t want to dance with him.
I don’t want to dance with anyone.
He stands and holds out his hand.
Waits. Wiggles his fingers, and there it is again.
A silent dare. Standing at the edge of a dock.
Standing at the edge of a cliff.
Standing at the edge of a dance floor.
I take it.
He keeps my hand trapped in his, his long fingers threading through mine.
He leads us out of the VIP lounge and into the madness below.
The main DJ has taken the stage against the far wall, and the dance floor is packed.
It throbs with the beat of the music.
My body throbs, too.
Just in a different way.
Don’t be attracted to him .
His wide shoulders help carve a path through the dancers.
Where I can slip between, he’s got the energy—and the audacity—that tells people to get the fuck out of his way.
It’s kind of funny—he and Reese both have similar statures, but they feel different.
Reese is more careful.
He seems well versed in being invisible.
He’d slip through the crowd without an incident, without touching anyone else.
Kade hasn’t been invisible a day in his life.
We find a spot, whatever spot seems satisfying to him, and he faces me.
I tip my head back to look up at him.
He takes our joined hands and drags me a step closer.
One palm touches my hip, the heat seeping through my gold shirt.
Something flutters again.
I shouldn’t like it.
But it’s been a while since someone touched me like this.
Not the bruising grip of Saint, disdain coating his expression.
It’s more gentle than that.
Softer. My body reacts with a pulse.
An embarrassing pulse that travels right between my legs…
I touch Kade’s chest, sliding my hand up his silky shirt.
To his shoulder, then the back of his neck.
He is quite a bit taller than me, but he’s graceful.
Like a fighter, sure, but also like something wild.
“Why Atlas?” I blurt out.
I don’t know if he can hear me over the music.
I can barely hear myself.
The beat thunders and begs me to move.
My fingers drift through the short hairs at his nape, and he cocks his head.
He doesn’t answer except to guide my other hand to his shoulder, then cup my waist.
Around us, people dance with abandon.
But Kade pulls me close, and I close my eyes.
“Dance, Artemis,” he says right in my ear.
I wish I had stuck around for the drink, but it’s too late now.
Like fighting, my body picks up his cues.
Where he wants me to go by the gentle pressure, the way his arms are relaxed and loose on my hips.
He follows when I sway them, slowly at first and then picking up speed.
I find the rhythm of the music, and he follows me.
His knee nudges between my legs.
My nails dig into the back of his neck.
This is more sensual than any dance…
He leans down, and I cock my head to the side.
Giving him access to my ear, because he seems like he wants to say something.
His lips land on my throat.
A quiet annihilation of my coyness.
I gasp. My hips roll, both to the music and to the way his lips drift toward the corner of my jaw.
His teeth scrape my skin, and my knees go weak.
Not that it matters, because he holds me up just fine.
This is really wrong .
And yet?—
Stop it .
One of his hands slides from my hip to the small of my back.
Then higher. His fingers tangle with my hair, and he tugs .
Jesus.
New kink unlocked.
He tilts my head farther and bites my neck, and a moan slips out of me.
He shouldn’t be able to hear it, but his ear is practically even with my mouth.
So when he draws back and smirks at me, I just stare at him.
He still has my hair in his fist, his leg wedged between mine.
We’re still dancing, somehow, so slow while the rest of the room seems to be double time.
Even the music isn’t loud anymore.
And I’m fucking sober.
Any minute now, Kade will ruin it.
He’ll ask about Reese, he’ll bring up my brother.
He’ll talk about Olympus, or fighting again.
And when he doesn’t, when he just smirks and continues to dance against me like he’s got all the time in the world, dread edges closer.
The longer this game goes, the worse it’ll be.
“Kade—”
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve had the pleasure of dancing with,” he says in my ear.
No, rumbles it.
I never understood that.
Or growling men. But I have a feeling Kade could do both and win awards while doing it.
My expression closes off in preparation for the but .
It doesn’t come, and that’s worse.
“I’ve got to go,” I say, using my palm on his chest to put some distance between us.
Any sort of distance, so I can breathe and not think about what my brain and heart are arguing over.
“Artemis—”
“Stop,” I interrupt.
He releases my hair.
My hip.
And that abrupt loss is all I need to break the last hold he had on me.
I spin around, find a slim opening in the crowd, and use the dancing bodies to disappear.