Chapter 10 Eris
Roo wants glitter, loud music, and trouble.
I want tequila and to stop checking my phone every five seconds like it’s oxygen and I’m suffocating.
We compromise.
Sort of.
The bar is louder this time, bass pounding through cracked walls. Bodies press together until the air is too humid to be comfortable. We’ve been here for like ten minutes, and Roo has already made three new friends and is halfway through a cocktail that is literally on fire.
I stick to something simpler.
Vodka soda. No lime. And no tequila to facilitate bad decisions.
It’s just enough kick to blur the edges of a week I don’t want to keep.
My phone buzzes in my bag. I ignore it for a full five seconds. Maybe six…. Then I peek. Because I’m weak.
Locke:
You look distracted tonight.
I bite the inside of my cheek, shaking my head. It can’t see me… I would know if the app had access to my camera, and I certainly hadn’t given it. Had I?
Eris:
Are you stalking me now?
Locke:
Only when you want me to.
Eris:
You’re getting bolder.
Locke:
You like it.
I do.
That was the fucking problem.
Eris:
Don’t flatter yourself.
My reply is quick and sarcastic, leading me to close the app and shove my phone deep into my purse before I can fall any further.
Fall any further into the conversation…
It doesn’t help.
I’m on the verge of… a problem. Another one.
Either that, or there is a seriously powerful witch fucking with my fate. Maybe I pissed off the universe…
My internal ramblings stop abruptly, the air charging with static electricity as I feel movement on my right. A guy slides up beside me at the bar, and I glance at him, intending to keep it quick, but no.
Eris, meet problem number three of the night.
He’s tall, light blond hair, grinning like he’s never had to earn a number in his life. Clearly, he’s the kind of trouble you can see coming, know you should run from, and still walk toward.
“You look like you hate it here,” he muses, lifting his glass of whiskey to take a sip.
“Is that your line?” I don’t mean for it to sound as deadpan as it does, but… Yes, I do.
He shrugs, appearing amused by my attitude. “Just an observation.”
“Sure,” I drawl, waving the bartender down to let her know I want to order another drink.
The blond god beside me leans in a little, not close enough to be a threat, but close enough to see what I’ll do about it. I should turn away, tell him to back up.
I mean, I should be doing a lot of shit, but naturally… I don’t.
Tonight is the night for release. Freedom. And if orgasms are on the table, I’ll take a few of those too.
His eyes flick to my mouth when I give him a devious smile. It isn’t sleazy; it’s curious. And for the first time in a while, I feel noticed, not just looked at.
I don’t normally like this kind of attention… But I don’t hate the way he returns my gaze.
“I’m Jace,” he says.
“Eris.”
“Beautiful name.” He glances down for a moment and shakes his head. “At the risk of sounding cliché, you’re not here alone, are you?”
“With my best friend.” I nod toward the dance floor, where Roo is mid-spin, her wild auburn hair chaos incarnate.
He grins. “Then she won’t miss you for a minute.”
“She’s got about eight more songs in her,” I inform him. “If she can’t find me after that… I hope you have good insurance, because she’ll burn this place to the ground.”
The grin adorning Jace’s lips morphs into a stunning smile, like he wants to laugh, but he isn’t sure if I’m joking. He stops the bartender and orders us both another round of drinks without asking what I want.
Bold move, but not annoying.
Jace gently pulls me to a table on the far side of the bar, away from the speakers.
It’s not necessarily quiet, but we don’t have to shout either…
One song rolls into two into ten… And we just talk.
About everything and nothing. Old music and movies that didn’t deserve sequels.
How he can’t finish a book, and I can’t change a tire.
“So what do you do when you’re not being mysterious in dive bars?” he asks.
“Work.”
“That’s vague.”
“Intentionally,” I pop back, raising a snarky brow.
He chuckles. “So, assassin or accountant?”
“Somewhere in between.”
“Hot either way.”
I roll my eyes. “You flirt like it’s a compulsion.”
“It is,” he says, leaning in. “I’ve learned to live with it. My friends usually call it charm, though.”
Jace makes me laugh… Real, unguarded laughter that startles me.
He smiles. “There it is.”
“There what is?” I inquire, glancing over my shoulder.
“The moment where you stopped pretending you’re not having fun with me.”
I open my mouth to argue, but he’s right. And I sort of hate that he can see it so plainly.
“Want another drink?”
I nod, and he pulls me from my seat, his large hands firm on my elbows until he turns me toward the bar. He walks behind me, his chest brushing my back as he matches my steps through the crowd.
The music shifts, slowing just slightly when we reach the bar. I feel Jace watching me, his gaze searing a line of heat across my shoulder and up my neck. He shakes his head, as if he’s clearing his thoughts, and waves the bartender down.
She stops in front of us, the corner of her mouth curling as she flirts. I tune her out while he orders… Because my phone buzzes in my purse.
I hesitate for a split second, but curiosity has its nasty hooks in me.
The notification is from HimLock, of course. I’m starting to wonder if I have a real stalker and a virtual one… Not that I mind the virtual one.
Yet.
Locke:
Do you want me to interrupt? Or are you having fun without me?
My breath catches, and then I huff in irritation. Silly of me to make a stalker joke and not expect at least one of them to show up.
It’s not just the words, though. It’s the timing, as if someone is watching me right now.
I don’t answer. Refuse to let it ruin my night. I’ll get this sorted… some other time. Not right now.
Because Jace leans in, the light citrus notes of his cologne playing with my senses. His mouth is warm against the edge of my jaw, trailing up just slow enough to give me the illusion that I can pull away.
I could. I just don’t want to.
“Come home with me,” he suggests, voice a low hum as his lips brush against the shell of my ear.
And I almost say yes immediately.
Except I don’t make it a habit to go into strangers’ homes unless I have a weapon or eight and am prepared to kill them. So, no, I’m not going to his house.
But… I can’t take him back to my place, either. That’s not even an option. I mean, I kill people there. Sometimes.
Not in the last month… But like, prior to my fake relationship and somewhat real breakup, I was killing people there pretty fucking often.
What if there’s still blood on the walls or some shit?
I text Roo before I answer.
Me:
Borrowing your bed. Promise to wash the sheets.
She sends back a single heart emoji and nothing else.
I smile, taking his hand as I reply, “I’m almost positive my place is closer.”
Jace watches me like he’s trying to memorize my behavior. His eyes are steady, tracking every move I make as I push the townhouse door shut behind us and drop my jacket onto the nearest chair.
When I turn, he’s right behind me, close enough for the air between us to thicken. My fingers twitch, caught between wanting to touch him or… Run.
He’s staring at me like I’m his prey, like he’s trying to read my mind so he knows which direction I’ll dart. His hands remain in his pockets, his restraint almost as loud as my pounding heart.
I’m not nervous about a one-night stand… But the way he observes me. It’s the way I study my marks before going in for the kill.
“Do you always bring strangers home?” he inquires.
“This isn’t my home,” I quietly point out.
“My question still stands.”
I shrug, testing his reactions as I take a step backward, further into Roo’s townhome. “Only when they follow the rules.”
“What are the rules?” he asks, intrigued as he continues after me.
“I could tell you, but if I do—”
“You’ll have to kill me?” Jace guesses, a bright smile lighting his features. “Not a chance.”
“Well, you are in an unknown house with a stranger,” I trail off, holding out my arms to showcase the space around us.
His expression morphs into a smirk, dangerous and gorgeous, and wholly unfair. “Is that supposed to be a warning?”
“You can take it however you want… But, no.” I shake my head as I kick out of my shoes. “It’s supposed to be an invitation.”
Jace breaks the distance, three steps forward, and he’s close enough for my pulse to trip over the next beat. His palms slide up my bare arms, one hand gripping my elbow all too gently while his other hand continues up, up, up… Until his fingers stop just beneath my chin, tilting me toward him.
“Tell me where the bedroom is.” His voice is a rumbling purr, the kind that lures you into a false sense of safety.
“Upstairs.” I point over my shoulder. “First door on the left.”
Jace grins like he’s just heard my darkest secret. “Good. I was beginning to worry you’d make me guess.”
“I could have…” I reach for the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head and dropping it to the floor. “But you don’t strike me as the guessing type.”
“Not when there’s a sturdy table.” His shirt hits the floor beside mine. “Or a couch. Or a kitchen counter.”
I step into him again, my hand going to his neck as I pull him down to my level, down to meet my lips. He matches my energy, scooping me up, so he doesn’t have to lean.
This is the kind of kiss that unravels every plan you had before it started. Now, nothing really matters outside of this moment.
I grin against his mouth when he pins me to the wall, his silky hair catching in my grasp. His fingertips dig into my skin, leaving the promise of bruises for me to find in the morning. The targeted pain is a jolt of electricity to my system, anticipation curling through my core.
I break the kiss, my voice catching as I try to breathe deeply and speak at the same time. It takes three attempts to get the word out.