Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
acelynn
The streets around the Queen’s Table were too quiet.
Normally, even before I stepped out of my car, the bar pulsed with sound, bass rattling the windows, laughter spilling into the night, the kind of energy that made the air feel alive.
But tonight, when I killed the engine and climbed out, there was only the static ring of police radios and the scattered sweep of red and blue lights bouncing off the brick facade.
My stomach dropped. Something was very wrong.
I slammed the car door and moved fast, my boots crunching over gravel as I came around the corner.
That was when I saw them—the wall of uniforms, bodies in dark Kevlar and navy, blocking the entrance like a barricade.
Each of their faces was set in the same hard lines.
The glint of badges hit my eyes like polished steel.
The knot in my chest twisted until it hurt. No. Not tonight. Not after everything I’d risked to prove myself to him. I shoved past the first two officers who reached for me, ignoring the bark of “Ma’am, stop!” and shouldered into the bar with a force that was fueled by panic.
What I saw froze me cold. The Queen’s Table was chaos.
Tables overturned. Bottles shattered. The scent of spilled vodka mixed with sweat and fear.
The usual haze of neon had been cut through with harsh flashlight beams, every corner probed and exposed.
And pressed against the far wall, hands raised, were the Knights.
Nolan was already cuffed, a red welt rising along his cheekbone where someone had slammed him into the ground.
He was seething, straining against the officer gripping his arms like he’d bite his way free if he could.
Josie’s jaw was clenched, her posture rigid with humiliation, while Astoria’s lips twisted in a snarl every time Parsons brushed too close.
Vince…Vince was stone. He leaned against the wall, motionless, but his eyes were sharp enough to cut glass, following every twitch of movement in the room.
And Kaius…
He wasn’t against the wall. He stood at the center of it, not restrained, not cowering, though three officers circled him warily, hands hovering over their holsters.
His presence filled the bar like gravity.
His face was carved from shadow, unreadable but dangerous, a man holding back a storm with nothing but his will.
At the eye of all of it was Detective Parsons.
His grin was smug, self-satisfied, the kind of smile that thrived on power.
He looked like he’d already won, like tearing this place apart was just child’s play before the final strike.
Detective Watson stood just behind him, silent, steady, and watching everything.
Unlike Parsons, there was no glee on his face.
Just calculation. I knew this was his doing because I had asked for a distraction, and he delivered.
My voice cracked through the air, louder than I intended. “What the hell is going on?”
Every head turned. Parsons’s grin stretched wider when his eyes landed on me.
“Well, look who wandered in,” he drawled, striding forward. “The prodigal girl herself. Couldn’t resist a party, huh, Acelynn?”
My skin crawled hearing my name in his mouth in this capacity.
We were both playing our roles, and I knew he was going to take immense pleasure in drawing it out in the most painful way possible.
I forced myself to plant my feet, even though my pulse was slamming in my throat.
“You have no right to be here. This is harassment.”
“Harassment?” Parsons cocked his head, eyes dragging over me in a way that made me want to scrub my skin raw.
He gestured broadly at the mess of his officers’ flipping stools and rifling drawers.
“No, sweetheart. This is called police work and is what happens when rats run wild in my city and think they can hide in shadows forever.”
Behind him, an officer slammed open the back door and disappeared through. I knew where they were going, and I just prayed that what they found in the basement wasn’t going to send every one of us to jail. I mean, herbs and files weren’t illegal…
Another officer ripped through crates behind the bar, tossing glass aside like none of it mattered.
The sound grated like nails on my nerves.
I took another step closer until I was breathing in the sour stench of his cologne.
“Police work usually requires evidence. A warrant. Actual probable cause. Do you have any of that, Detective? Or are you just here to play thug in uniform?”
The smile twitched. Just a flicker, but I saw it. A crack in the smug mask.
He bent down until his mouth hovered by my ear, low enough that only I could hear.
“Careful, sweetheart. We both know how to play this game. That smart mouth might earn you a set of cuffs again. Maybe even your own cell this time. I’d love to see how well you hold up under questioning with all your new knowledge. ”
The words were slick with threat, coiled with promise. My chest burned, but I refused to let him see the fear. I raised my chin, spitting fire back at him instead. “You don’t scare me.”
And that was when Kaius moved. The shift was subtle—just a step—but it carried the weight of an earthquake. The officers around him stiffened, hands hovering closer to their guns. But he didn’t look at them. His eyes were fixed on Parsons.
“That’s enough,” he said, and the words rumbled low, lethal, like a warning before the kill.
Even from across the room, the warmth of it washed over me.
It made my heart thump against my chest. I turned my gaze on him, heat pooling in my core at his intense stare.
God, even when I was furious at him for what he made me do tonight, I still wanted him to show me just how unhinged he could be with me.
The thought had my cheeks flushing slightly.
“You don’t threaten what’s mine,” Kaius continued, voice still low, but sharper now, honed with years of practice. “You don’t touch her. You don’t even breathe her name unless I say so. Do you understand me, Parsons?”
The air in the room constricted. For the first time, Parsons’s grin faltered. He straightened slowly, eyes flicking between me and Kaius, measuring, calculating. “We’ll see how clear things are once we finish the search.”
Just as I thought the entire room was going to combust into flames, officers stormed in from the back door, and the chaos truly began. Their boots pounded against the hardwood floor as they tore through the hall.
“There is nothing there,” Watson’s voice called out over the grumbles of the other officers.
Parsons’s eyes flashed with anger before he tore off in the direction of the basement.
I followed after him, not caring that I was being screamed at to stop.
When my feet finally landed on the final step, I came upon an entirely different space than what I had seen just a day earlier.
The basement was empty, scrubbed to sterility, just rows of liquor bottles, bags of ice, and cleaning solution.
The table was bare, no trace of anything illegal left behind.
No Muze. No vials. Nothing but a stage that smelled of alcohol and smoke.
Even the filing cabinet, which had sat in the corner, was now gone.
I watched Parsons’s face as the reports trickled back—empty, negative, cleared.
His jaw tightened, his smirk stretched thinner, like a mask starting to crack under the weight of its own lie.
Watson took the papers from one officer who was reporting the scene around us, scanning them quietly.
His expression barely shifted, but when his eyes lifted to meet mine across the room, something flickered.
Relief. Regret. A warning. I couldn’t tell.
Watson handed the report to his partner. The silence dragged as Parsons processed defeat, eyes scanning over each and every word on the white sheet of paper. Finally, with a sound like a growl, he shoved the report back into Watson’s chest and turned on me.
“This isn’t over,” he snarled, jabbing a finger into my chest. His eyes found mine last, sharp and venomous. “One of these times, they are going to slip. And when they do, I’ll be there to watch them burn.”
The venom in his voice should’ve rattled me. Instead, something wild rose up in me, sharp and reckless. I smiled, slow and sweet. “Looks like tonight isn’t that night.”
The words hit him like a slap. His eyes narrowed to slits, but before he could strike back, Kaius strode down the stairs and stepped in front of me, a wall of steel and shadow.
His voice was quiet, absolute. “Get out of my bar.”
And for once, Parsons obeyed.
The officers filed out, leaving wreckage in their wake—shattered glass, overturned tables, and the stench of smoke and tension still clinging to the air.
Only when the last badge had disappeared through the door did I let my shoulders sag, breath trembling out of me.
Kaius turned slowly, his eyes landing on me, and for a moment, the room felt too small to contain him.
But I knew I wasn’t free to go, not when I still had to prove that the Muze was securely obtained.
Proved that I was on the right side of the Knights.