15. Chapter Fifteen - Desiree
Cursing under my breath, I cut my twentieth lemon into wedges and toss them in the plastic garnish container behind the bar.
Being assigned menial tasks like this is exhausting.
If I want to uncover who summoned the Balam, I need to focus on productive activities—like revisiting the attack site for additional clues.
Spending my time on bar prep does nothing to help improve Queen Vyvyan’s situation or bring us closer to finding the person behind the summoning.
How does she not see that?
“I feel bad for Vane,” one of my colleagues whispers to another further down the bar.
“Me too,” another replies, a hint of malice in her tone.
“Why doesn’t she just leave? He doesn’t want her, and neither do we.”
“Yeah, not after what she did to Misty.”
“Misty’s so much sweeter, and he chose her?”
“Everyone is saying he regrets it . . .”
I lower my gaze, focusing on the cool water flowing between my sticky fingers.
If only I could scrub away my past as easily as this lemon juice.
I hate him.
If I had been honest with Misty, none of this would have happened.
But that’s Vane’s fault, too.
He made me lie.
The citrus scent washes over me as I scrub my hands.
Suddenly, I’m transported elsewhere—tangled in cotton sheets, safe in strong arms that hold me like I’m precious.
The memory is so vivid I can almost feel the warmth of his skin and hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear.
I blink, forcing myself back to reality, but the ghost of that embrace lingers.
“Hey, sunshine.”
I lift my gaze, my heart leaping.
Jaxson flashes a smile that could liven a morgue, and for a moment, I forget everything—until the weight of watchful eyes returns.
I shut off the water and grab a rag, hands trembling as I dry them.
Each step around the bar echoes with whispers from the vampires tracking my movement.
Their judgment crawls across my skin.
With forced casualness, feeling like there’s glass in my throat, I tug Jaxson out of earshot.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss.
If Vyvyan finds out he was here, there’ll be hell to pay.
Witches aren’t allowed inside the club during off hours.
If she found out he came to see me, she’d make an example of us both.
Jaxson simply laughs, warm and nostalgic, melting some of my anger.
But coming here is reckless.
“Good to see you, too, Desi,” he replies.
“Even if you aren’t answering my calls.”
My lips purse.
I don’t have time for Jaxson’s antics tonight.
I’ve been ignoring his calls since I got called into Vyvyan’s room about Mom’s cure—not out of disinterest, but to keep him safe and my place here secure.
He deserves an explanation, but not here.
“Do you have a death wish?” I ask, and Jax raises an inquiring brow.
My stomach does a low flip as I take him in.
By the stars, he’s so attractive.
Gone are his boyish good looks, and in their place are masculine features that seem chiseled from stone.
He’s a dangerous distraction from my promise to Vyvyan.
“You need to leave. I’ll call you?—”
“Desi, I’m not here to see you.”
I blink, finally noticing his uniform.
Jax smiles again, and my heart pounds—betraying me, considering how easily he cast me aside for Wilder last year.
The familiar ache of abandonment twists in my chest, as sharp as a scalpel, while heat floods my cheeks.
That smile used to make me do unlawful things to him back when I thought I meant more to him.
“Then why are you here?” I ask.
Jax peers over my shoulder into the empty club.
Soon, the dance floor will pulsate with energy, and the bar will bustle with patrons.
“Is Vane around?”
My body goes rigid, my teeth set on edge.
Jaxson knows Vane is my sire, but he doesn’t know what happened between us.
I never plan to tell him.
It’s none of his business.
“Vane isn’t here.”
“Then where is he?”
I scoff.
“Do I look like his keeper?”
“If you are, you are doing a terrible job,” a sultry voice says.
My blood runs cold.
Vane commands the room like a king holding court when he walks in.
His red eyes gleam as he adjusts the sleeve of his custom-tailored suit.
Tonight’s ensemble is a striking teal, accentuating his white-blond hair, which seems to glow under the club lights.
I want to squeeze lemon juice into my eyes.
“Jaxson.” Vane extends a firm handshake toward the Blade.
The air thickens as the two pivotal figures in my life, the only men I’ve ever loved, engage in a silent exchange that momentarily eclipses my presence.
An urge to retreat behind the bar tugs at me, but curiosity pins me in place.
“Are you here to take in the sights?” Vane’s gaze lands on me, and I roll my eyes.
Asswipe.
“I’m here on an errand for the queen,” Jaxson says.
I bite the inside of my cheek.
What’s so important Leigh sent Jaxson to ask in person?
“If Leigh has questions, then ask them,” Vane replies.
“Leigh wants to ensure you and Queen Vyvyan are safe after the blackout,” Jax asks.
I scoff.
Both men look at me.
Of course, they aren’t fucking okay.
Someone attacked Vyvyan and Vane, and that person wants her dead.
There could be wolves in Corona, and here we are chatting in this club as if there isn’t a killer on the loose.
Vane wears a mask of composure.
“I told her we were fine. Something had come up.”
I frown.
It’s so easy for him to lie.
“Perhaps I could see Vyvyan to confirm that’s true?” Jaxson asks, and I tense.
Ice floods my veins, memories of Vyvyan’s lifeless body flashing through my mind.
Jax frowns.
He reads me like a book, sensing something is wrong.
I’m losing control.
If the Blades steal my case, there goes my bargaining chip, and I’ll end up on the streets.
“Vyvyan’s not taking visitors,” I say.
Jaxson’s stare intensifies.
“Why?”
Vane scowls at me.
“Desiree, don’t you need to get back to work? We will open soon. Jaxson, we will need to reschedule this conversation. I’m busy.”
Jaxson straightens.
His posture brims with authority.
“There’s one more thing. Leigh requests permission to visit Little Death tonight with some of her people.”
“Who?” I ask before Vane can shoo me away.
“A few members of the Council as well as Alden Lupas,” Jaxson says in a low voice.
Confusion wrinkles my brow.
“Who is that?”
“The Wolf Prince of Lua?” Vane answers.
My skin crawls at the recollection of Balam’s signature.
Paw prints.
“He’s here?” Could the tracks at the attack site link to Alden?
If so, I might have found my first suspect.
Jaxson nods.
“It’s a long story, but essentially, Alden is here to negotiate peace with Leigh. He requested to visit Little Death.”
“Why does Alden want to come here?” I won’t deny his being here will make questioning him easier.
“Wolves hate vampires.”
“Alden insists that isn’t true,” Jax says.
Vane is rigid, and his calculating gaze seems far away.
“Tell Leigh she is always welcome,” I say.
Vane blinks back to the present.
“Excuse me?” he hisses.
I force a smile at Jax.
“Give us a minute.”
I pull Vane aside, leaving Jax with his arms crossed, staring at us like he has X-ray vision.
Turning my back to him, I address Vane.
“Let them come. They can use room two; it’s the largest. I’ll work the party to gather information. Those were wolf prints I found the other day, and I could use this opportunity to talk to Alden and see if he slips up.”
Vane chuckles, the sound devoid of humor.
“Oh, darling, I love watching you scheme. But Alden isn’t going to tell you shit.”
I bristle at the term of endearment.
“Is that a challenge?”
He shrugs.
“Why not? I always enjoy winning.” His familiar cocky smile spreads across his face, and something inside me snaps.
The casual confidence—the belief that everything is just a game he can master—is so perfectly infuriating I want to scream.
Vane leaves me frowning.
“If that’s all, officer, you may tell Leigh that Little Death will host her and her company tonight.” Jaxson, however, lingers, his reddish-brown eyes fixed on mine.
A muscle in Vane’s jaw feathers.
“Is there something else?”
Jax clears his throat.
“I wanted to ask if you’d have dinner with me. To apologize.”
My jaw drops.
Jax can’t be serious.
The audacity of asking me out with Vane right there makes my pulse race.
He’s either clueless about vampire politics or foolishly brave.
I glance at the century-old vampire, my stomach knotting as I gauge his reaction.
Vane’s face is an expressionless mask, cold and unyielding, reveling nothing about how he feels.
That’s what terrifies me most.
I’ve been around vampires long enough to know that their stillness is often deadliest right before they strike.
Jax has no idea he’s painting a target on his chest with every word.
“Vyvyan will never let me,” I say.
Challenge sparks in Jax’s eyes.
“Do you always do what Vyvyan tells you?”
I open my mouth to answer with a firm yes.
But Vane answers, “I’ll deal with Vyvyan.” I blink until he adds for my ears only, “I’ll tell her you’re going out with Jaxson to glean information on the Council.”
My jaw slackens.
For Vyvyan, he’d do anything.
“Fine,” I consent, and Jaxson sports a movie star smile.
“We can go out. As friends .”
Jaxson’s grin wavers.
But that’s how it has to be until I regain Vyvyan’s favor.
Until then, I’m on thin ice.
“Tomorrow, Blue Sparrow, nine o’clock?” Jaxson asks.
I nod, but my inner conflict grows at the thought of going out with Jaxson.
Given our shared history, I’m worried about what topics or unresolved issues might surface when we’re alone.
He said he wanted to apologize.
Confronting our past and navigating the complexities of our relationship face-to-face fills me with apprehension as if I were preparing for a complicated surgery.
“So, nine?” Jaxson prompts once more, his eyes searching mine.
Vane inserts himself.
“She’ll be there.”
I shoot Vane a glare.
“I can speak for myself.”
“Since you’re here, Officer Foster-Reid, I have a message to pass to Leigh.” Vane lowers his voice.
Jax steps closer.
“The night before the blackout, we had a visitor. Beatrix Marks.”
Jaxson’s takes an involuntary step back.
“The anti-monarchist? Doesn’t she live in Icarus? Why was she in town?”
Vane shrugs.
“Visiting old friends.”
“Interesting,” Jax muses pensively.
“I’ll see you both later.”
“Back to work, Desiree.” I flip Vane off as he turns away.
“I saw that.”
“Good!”