Chapter Five
Aaliyah
T he next day, I decide it’s time for some retail therapy after the night I had.
A few hours spent inside the high-end clothing stories in the city, and I find myself ravenous. Glancing at my watch, I see that it’s after five. Most of the restaurants I prefer to dine at will have a waitlist already. There’s no way I’m adding my name to a waitlist.
Pulling out my phone, I dial one of my old lovers, Henri. We met in Paris in the 20s—the 1920s, not the 2020s, just to clarify. He’s a gargoyle and one of the best lovers I’ve ever had. Minus Archer, but we’re not talking about him—ever.
Henri moved to America shortly after the Vietnam War, needing a change. He opened a restaurant here in Rock Hill about five years ago, and it’s been on everyone’s lips since then. It’s one of the hardest restaurants to get a table at.
Well, for most people. Just not for me.
“ Mon c?ur, what did I do to deserve a call from my favorite lover?“ Even after nearly seventy years in this country, his French accent is still thick.
I snort out a laugh. “Don’t let Fabien hear you say that. He’ll tear into both of us.”
Henri chuckles at the mention of his bear-shifter husband. “You know Fabien and I would both love to have you in our bed again.”
“That was two decades ago, before the two of you married. I’m not so sure he’d want to invite me into his bed any longer.” Shaking my head, I can’t help laughing again. Henri has always been and will always be a flirt. But the night I’d spent with him and Fabien is one I’ve replayed over and over again while I have my hand between my legs. Their cocks were massive, both with fun surprises that came out to play. It’s not something a girl can forget.
“I think, in this case, you’re most mistaken. If only my mon amour was here so he could tell you himself.“ Henri sighs. “Well, if you did not call me for another night in our bed, then what can I do for you?”
“I hoped that my dear friend might have a table for me at Lumières Vives de la Ville.”
There’s a pause before he laughs. “For you, mon c?ur ? Always. When shall I let them know you’ll be here?”
“Even with traffic, I should be able to be there in twenty minutes,” I say, typing in the address to the restaurant, finding that I’m right.
“Excellent. I’ll come out to see you and we can catch up. Maybe I can convince you to come home with me. We’ll call Fabien so you can hear from him directly that he’s one hundred percent happy for you to join us again.”
I laugh as I pull out into traffic. “Okay, Henri. We’ll do that. I’ll see you soon.”
Traffic isn’t too bad considering the part of town I’m in, but I also don’t get to go above thirty miles an hour. I pull up to the valet exactly twenty minutes later, handing off my keys with a smile and a thank you.
Walking up to the ma?tre d’, I smile while the man scowls at me.
“We do not accept walk-ins. Reservations only,” he tells me, looking down his nose at me the whole time.
My smile stays locked in place. There’s no reason to let this pissant know that he’s bothering me with his words. I’ll just let Henri know he needs a new ma?tre d’ whenever he shows his face. “I have a reservation. Aaliyah Nasiri.”
“I’m the one in charge of the reservations, and I know for a fact that you’re not listed for today. Good try, but you should leave now.”
I bite back my laughter. He’s going to be eating his words in a moment. “Why don’t you just double check?”
“I don’t need to,” he starts, cutting off when he glances down at the tablet in his hand. He blanches, eyes going wide as they shoot back up to me. “I’m so sorry, Miss Nasiri. You must have been added while I was on break. Please, let me show you to your seat.”
Now he wants to kiss my ass. Henri keeps a table for himself and uses it when friends want to eat here. The ma?tre d’ has obviously realized which table I’m being seated at and knows the shit he’s in. It’s too little, too late for this man. He might as well kiss his job goodbye.
“My name is Michael, Miss Nasiri,” he says as I slide into the private booth. “If you need anything, please let me know.”
I wave him off because there’s no way in hell I’ll be asking him for a damn thing. There’s no menu on the table, but I wasn’t expecting one. If I’m eating here, then Henri is going to feed me whatever he wants. Not that I’m complaining. The man is an amazing chef, and I’ve never tasted anything made by him that wasn’t exquisite—even as far back as a hundred years ago.
I reach for my phone, pausing when a black card appears on the table. It’s no bigger than a business card, but this has red writing on it like the invitation from the guild. This must be my first target.
Harrison Griffin $1,000,000 A drop of blood to accept. Rip card in half to decline.
Eyebrows lifted, I’m surprised by the payment amount listed. I figured with the guild taking their cut, I’d be paid about what I was charging per hit—usually around 500k, depending on the target. But a million dollars? That’s some big money right there. It makes me wonder about the target.
Not that it really matters. I’m not going to be turning down this job.
Instead of grabbing my phone, I grab my favorite butterfly knife and flick it open. Before I can prick my finger, a harried Michael appears at my table.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Miss Nasiri,” he says quickly as I flick the blade closed and tuck it back into my purse. Snatching the card off the table with one of my hidden hands, I shove it in beside my knife. “The reservation said it was for one, but these two assured me you were expecting them. They were very insistent.”
Glancing over his shoulder, I sigh. “It’s fine, Michael. They won’t be staying for long.”
Michael looks relieved as he hurries away. As soon as he’s gone, I pin my gaze on Archer and his lover, whose name I never did learn.
“Number one, why the hell are you here? Number two, how the hell did you find me?”
Archer smirks as he sinks into the booth opposite me, his lover following him.
“I didn’t say you could sit.” Turning to his lover, I shake my head. “And what the hell is your name? I didn’t catch it last night.”
“Oh, dear. I can’t believe I was remiss in providing that,” she says with a wink. “I want all the beautiful women to know my name. I’m Naomi, and yes, I’m a demon like Archer. Well, not exactly like him. I’m a nightmare.”
I frown, rummaging around in my memories to see if I know anything about nightmares. Something tells me she’s not a horse seeing as she’s in a human form right now. Oh! Right! Nightmares prey on sleeping humans. They steal their dreams, eating them as they replace them with nightmares. Not terrible on the demon scale.
Archer’s demon class isn’t all that bad either, as he’s a shadow demon. But it’s not his demon class that makes me not want to be near him. It’s the hundreds of years he kept me captive by tricking me.
Shaking my head, I give Naomi a smile. She hasn’t done anything to me. It’s not her fault her lover fucked me over.
It quickly falls into a glare as I focus on Archer. “So?”
“So what?” he asks, blinking at me.
Not bothering to hide my eye roll, I sink further into the booth. Glancing toward the kitchen, I wonder how long it’ll be before Henri comes out. He’ll be the one to deliver my food, not trusting anyone else to do so. Though, I would’ve expected a server to stop by to get my drink order by now.
“I asked you why you were here and how you found me?”
Instead of Archer answering, it’s Naomi who answers. “He stalked you through the shadows to your home.”
A growl spills from my throat. “Of course he did. Did you follow me all day today as well?”
Archer shrugs, not quite meeting my eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You won’t talk to me. What other choice do I have?”
“To leave me the hell alone like I told you to?!” Not wanting to cause a scene in Henri’s restaurant, my words are little more than a loud whisper as I lean across the table. “Why can’t you understand? I don’t want anything to do with you! You held me captive and not for a short period of time. You kept me confined to your home for hundreds of years, Archer! I loved you, and you betrayed me. So you can go fuck right off.”
Someone clears their throat, and I turn my head to find Henri standing there. He has a plate in one hand and a glass in the other. “I wasn’t aware you had guests joining you, mon c?ur. I only made enough for you.”
“They’re not staying,” I tell him with a smile before turning back to my two unwanted guests. Okay, at least one of them is unwanted. The other, I’m just not sure what the hell to think of. “In fact, they were just leaving.”
Henri slides the glass and plate in front of me. “That’s good. Because they’re in my seat, and I intend to watch you enjoy the masterpiece that is my cooking while we catch up.”
Archer glares at Henri but gestures for Naomi to exit the booth. Henri takes their seat as soon as they’re both standing, grinning at me.
Before they leave, Archer leans over, his lips just inches from my ear as he whispers, “This isn’t over, love. You may act like you don’t want anything to do with me, but your body says otherwise.”
It’s only then I realize that I’m leaning toward him. I jerk away, fighting a shiver from the way his hot breath hits my skin. Steeling myself, I turn to him with ice in my eyes.
“You’re quite mistaken, Archer. You’re only seeing what you want to see. Leave.”
I face Henri once more, feeling Archer’s presence at my side until he finally walks away. Henri smirks as he reaches over to take my hand in his.
“ Mon c?ur, you are in so much trouble.”
As much as I’d love to deny his words, I know he’s right. No matter how much I deny it, I still feel something for Archer.
Fuck my life.
As always, Henri has provided me with an abundance of great food and amazing company. After a full seven courses, he ducks away to return to the kitchen while I sit back and relax, needing to let my food settle.
Reaching into my purse, I pull out the card with my first target and grin. Grabbing my knife, I prick my finger and watch as a drop of blood splashes across the words, blurring them. Within seconds, the card disappears.
As soon as it does, information about Harrison Griffin appears in my head, surprising me. That isn’t what I was expecting, but damn if it isn’t convenient. With this information, I can begin planning and move forward with a plan.
Still grinning, I push to my feet and head for the door. Maybe my night can still be salvaged.