Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Orpheus
The sound the vampire makes when he hits the wall is deeply satisfying.
Not loud. Not dramatic. Just solid.
Bone against stone.
The vampire groans, pushing himself upright, and then he looks at me.
Really looks.
The color drains from his face.
“Shit,” he breathes.
I straighten my jacket, slow and deliberate. “That’s usually the moment when people start apologizing and pleading for their lives.”
He drops his gaze instantly, shoulders curling in on themselves. “My King, I didn’t realize she was under your protection.”
“She isn’t,” I say calmly.
His head snaps up, confusion flickering across his features. “Then why—”
“Because you were touching her.”
The words settle into the hall like a weight.
“I was intrigued,” he rushes, hands lifting in a placating gesture. “That’s all. She was alone. New. I’d never cross a line.”
I glance back over my shoulder.
The girl stands frozen a few feet away, her back pressed to the wall, eyes wide but sharp. She’s holding onto the wall like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. Her breathing’s shallow. Controlled. Brave in a way that irritates me.
I look back at him.
“You crossed it,” I say. “Several times. You enter this club. You know the rules. You want to drink from someone, it’s with consent. She didn’t seem to give it.”
He swallows hard. “I didn’t intend to hurt her.”
“That’s usually the excuse right before someone does.”
Silence stretches.
He shifts his weight, clearly trying to calculate his odds. I let him. Let the fear settle in. Let him remember exactly whose house he’s standing in.
“I swear to you,” he says quickly. “I was only curious. Nothing more.”
A lie.
An obvious one.
I step closer. Close enough that he flinches.
“Curiosity,” I tell him, “is how most of you end up dead. Just as the saying goes, ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’ Don’t take me for a fool.”
His throat bobs. “Please. I meant no disrespect.”
“Then leave,” I say. “Now. I suggest you don’t come here again.”
Relief floods his face so fast it almost makes me reconsider.
He bows, clumsy and frantic. “Thank you, my King. I won’t return.”
“You won’t,” I agree. If he does, I’ll rip his head off.
He doesn’t waste another second. He disappears down the hall, his retreat nearly a run.
Good.
I turn back to the girl.
She’s watching me carefully now, like she’s trying to decide if I’m another problem or the end of one.
“You’re safe,” I say.
She nods once and utters a phrase I’ve heard before, but for some reason, the fact that it’s coming from her makes it so much more important, “Thank you.”
Then she straightens, takes a deep breath, and does something unexpected.
“I should get back to work.”
“Work?” Now, I’m curious.
“Yes, work. I just started working here. I’m the new bartender slash server.”
“No.”
The word comes out flat. After what’s just happened, there’s no way I’m letting her go back out there.
What really bothers me is I’m not sure why I’m so invested in the first place.
This isn’t the first time that one of my customers has stepped over the line with someone who works here.
Usually, I let my security detail handle it.
Dyrk has rules in place to keep the customers and my staff safe.
I don’t allow for vampires to drink from other customers, let alone my staff, without their consent.
This place is supposed to be a neutral, safe environment for those around.
During the day, I handle other business in this place.
Meeting with Corbin and others to manage the other side of my business.
Nowadays, I find myself going to his clubhouse to handle business when needed because of his mate and woman.
She herself is an intriguing woman. Powerful.
She’d easily drawn me to her with the power she carries inside her.
More than that, how she carries herself and doesn’t allow it to darken her soul.
She’s a light soul.
Just as this woman in front of me. I don’t know her, but I can see it all around her. The light shines about her brightly.
What the hell was Sibley thinking hiring her here of all places?
Her cheeks brighten, and she frowns. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”
I glance down the hallway where the vampire fled. “That ship’s sailed.”
She hesitates, clearly torn between instinct and obligation. “I really need to be on the floor.”
“You really don’t,” I reply, a little sharper than I need to be.
It’s not like she did anything to provoke that bastard to attack her.
I shouldn’t be taking this out on her, but I can’t help it.
She’s disrupted my peace. A peace that I’ve been dying to disrupt for a long while, but that’s not the point.
I wanted to do it on my own terms, not like this. “You’re coming with me.”
Her lips press together. Not defiant. Just irritated.
“Is that a request,” she asks, “or an order?”
Interesting. Is she really sassing me right now? I don’t remember the last time someone did that to me. Not even Sibley or Aziz will speak to me with such disregard to my status. Why is it so thrilling?
“It’s me preventing this from happening again,” I say. “Take it however you want.”
She exhales, then nods. “Okay.”
I don’t bother to turn around to make sure she’s following me.
I can feel her presence behind me as I make my way back out to the main area of the club.
From every corner, I see people staring in our direction.
Not only is it out of the ordinary for me to be down off my gilded throne, but they all see that I’ve taken a special interest in the new girl. They want to know who she is.
I understand the curiosity. I want to know who she is too. I want to know why I’m so drawn to her.
I look over to the bar and lock eyes with Meg. She’s lead tonight. I don’t have to ask her permission to take one of the workers off the floor, but I’m considerate enough to know that she’s going to need to be aware that she’s about to lose one of her servers.
I nod once in her direction and dart my eyes in the new girl’s direction. That’s all it takes for her to understand what I’m doing. Meg is a good worker, even if she’s sour most of the time.
I lead the way up the private staircase without checking to see if the woman is still behind me.
She is.
The door seals behind us, and I can’t hear anything from the floor below, but I can still see through the darkened glass.
Instead of staying by the door and waiting for my next instruction, the woman takes a few steps farther into my space. The guards and attendants that I have working in here with me all stare at her with wide eyes, but the strange woman doesn’t pay them any mind.
“Clear the room,” I order, and within a second, everyone is filing out, leaving me and her alone.
“Wow, that was spooky . . . they all move so fast,” she whispers, but doesn’t turn to look at me.
I’m stuck staring at her profile. That deep pulling sensation I felt earlier intensifies in my gut.
I keep my eyes on her. I want to see everything that she’s going to do.
I’m completely enthralled by her every movement.
It’s concerning.
She looks around my space with open curiosity. No fear. No reverence. Just interest.
That alone is unusual. Typically, when someone is in my presence, either they are on their knees asking for a favor or forgiveness.
Thinking about forgiveness, my mind flashes back to the bastard who had her cornered in the hall downstairs and the fact that I let him go too easily.
I shouldn’t have. I should’ve made sure he got the message, rather than letting fear seep into him. He needed to learn more of a lesson.
“You shouldn’t have been alone,” I say, sharper than intended, breaking the heavy silence in the air.
She turns to me, confusion clear on her face, until her expression drops and she figures out what I’m talking about. “I wasn’t. It was crowded.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
She studies me for a moment. “I didn’t think I needed protection.”
“You do,” I reply.
“Why?”
I don’t answer that. I don’t really have an answer. Why should she be more protected than my other workers or customers? What’s so special about her?
Instead, I watch her eyes drift to the wall behind my desk. The framed images. The history. The pieces of my life I stopped seeing centuries ago.
She steps closer.
“These are incredible,” she murmurs.
I follow her gaze, seeing them through her reaction rather than my memory. The detail. The craftsmanship. The brutality softened into something almost beautiful.
“I see them every day,” I say, moving closer to her. “You forget they’re there.”
She glances back at me. “I don’t think I could.”
Something tightens in my chest.
I clear my throat. I need to get to the bottom of this, quickly. “You know where you are?”
“Yes.”
“And who I am?”
She nods. “The King.”
I wait for the rest.
It never comes.
No bow. No awe. No nervous apology.
Just acceptance.
“I’m Orpheus,” I say. “This is my club.”
She meets my gaze evenly. “Okay.”
That single word lands harder than it should.
“You’re not impressed.” I chuckle softly. Everything she’s done so far is bewildering to me.
She shrugs. “You saved me. That matters more.”
Silence stretches between us.
I don’t ask her name.
Not yet.
For the first time in a very long while, something’s shifted in my world.
She has no idea she’s the reason.