“Sloane,” she replied, finally accepting my hand. She wasn't as fragile as she appeared. Her handshake was strong and almost professional. She didn’t add a last name, and I wouldn’t push her for one either. Not yet.
“Right this way then, Sweetheart,” I announced as I turned and made my way to the door. I didn’t feel threatened with her at my back. She wouldn’t hurt me. I couldn’t say that about the rest of the guys in the camp though.
She hopped off the table and strolled leisurely behind me, like she was being escorted to a hotel room rather than a cell. She didn’t say a word as I opened the door and closed it after she walked through. I led the way down the hall to the cells, and I opened the metal door for her, closing it softly when she spun around to face me. She nodded her head reassuringly at me but didn’t utter another sound.
“The Fae King is on his deathbed. You may want to plan your escape sooner than two days. The full moon will happen then and they’ll want to drain you both,” I whispered the warning to her. My words were so quiet I wasn’t sure she heard me until she bobbed her head the slightest bit. She was composed and eerily confident. I found it to be a little worrisome. If I was being honest. Why wasn’t she scared?
That’s my mate. I thought about Sloane one last time and shut down the raging river of questions I had about her. I built my mental shield tighter and went searching for Kelvin. I’d let him know she was in the cell but still unconscious. It should buy her a couple of hours before he came down to assess the king and interrogate her.
I wanted to keep her safe and I only knew one way to do that.
As I walked across the hall to the Fae King’s cell I knew it was time to strike a deal. I couldn’t save his life, but I could give him something that would ensure he erased the last couple hours of her memory. And that he kept it wiped clean until he died. I'd let him call his son one last time before they came to drain what was left of his power. It was all I could do for him in this situation. Even if it was risky, the benefits were worth it. Kelvin would try to invade her mind. He’d know that she knew I was her mate and he would use it against her. I couldn’t be her weakness, but I could give her this to strengthen her while she was captive.
I would find her again. I wouldn’t lose her. It felt like there was a thread in my chest that would lead me straight to her now that I’d found her. I planned to follow it, wherever it led. I’d follow her to the depths of hell. It seemed like an irrational thought, but I knew it to be true.
I must keep her safe.
Sloane
Thursday Night
“Cheers, bitch!” The handsome male to my right slammed his beer bottle against the top of mine, making it foam and spill from the top. I watched as the cold liquid ran over my left hand. I wasn’t really in a celebratory mood, but Jack dragged me out of my house tonight to be his wing woman.
I would usually call Jack my best friend. Tonight, I hated him. He pulled me from my cluttered study to bring me to a grimy bar so he could hit on some straight guys while his boyfriend was working. They had a thing. An agreement of sorts. It was what he did on his nights off. I didn’t have time for nights off. I had shit to do, an inch thick contract to read through and about a dozen new reports of missing supes.
The hole-in-the-wall bar wasn’t really my style either. The sticky floor made me want to toss my boots in the trash before I put my feet back in my car. The music was terrible. The bartender couldn't make a drink with more than two ingredients. The patrons were loud, angry, and obnoxious.
I sighed audibly as I thought about how badly I loathed this place. Jack directed his glare at me with so much ire I honestly thought he might tell me to go home. I had my fingers crossed. Literally.
“Lo,” he groaned. “If you didn’t want to come, then you should’ve said no.”
“I did. You told me no wasn’t an option. Then, you slung me over your shoulder and tossed me in my own car.” I cut my eyes at him in a hard stare. He huffed before he snatched my hand, dragging me to the bathroom.
Oh gods. The bathroom. The place was a breeding ground for infections. Again, the sticky floor followed me all the way through the bar into the stall Jack had us crammed in. I was pretty sure the toilets didn’t work. It didn’t matter. We weren’t in here to use them. We were here so Jack could chew me out over my bad attitude.
Attitude adjustment in 3... 2....
“Sloane,” he snapped at me, gaining my attention as I tried real fucking hard not to touch a single thing in this 3 foot wide space. Gross. “Just one night. One fucking night. Stop thinking about work. Any of it! Drink a fucking beer with me and then go hustle some assholes over poker in the back room or something. Why don’t you flirt a little? Find a one-night stand? Your dry spell is killing us both. You need to get laid, bitch. That’s why you’re so stressed all the time.”
I gawked at him for a solid minute. It hasn’t been that long since I’ve had sex. He was being ridiculous. I’d let him throw his little tantrum. Then I was going home in exactly one hour. For real, I was going to time this shit.
“It has been that long,” he called me out incredulously. “You’ve had a few flings and one short relationship, if you can even call it that, since that asshole druid left you. That was two fucking years ago!” His voice rose a little at the end. I knew he hated throwing that in my face, but it was his last resort. And... Well, it was true. Godsdammit.
“Fine. I’ll stay for an hour. Then I’m going home to finish my work, Jack. I have a meeting in the morning and I need to be prepared.” I rolled my eyes at myself. I’d become really lame, I know.
“Okay,” Jack conceded. “One hour then you can go home and be boring all by yourself. But drink with me while you’re here, at least,” he whined and tugged on my hand.
“Fine,” I conceded as he led me back out of the bathroom. Thank the Devil. That stall was making me itch. He was right, though. He happened to always be right when it came to me. I did need to loosen up a little and have some fun.
I walked up to the bar and ordered four shots of chilled, top-shelf tequila with salt and limes. Dressed, I wanted dressed shots. Surely the bartender could handle that. Everything else I’d ordered since we’d been here had been way too sweet. Basically pure sugar poured over liquor, and it was fucking disgusting.
As I waited for my shots, I gave the filthy bar a good look. There were a few pool tables spaced sporadically around the open area. The thought of hustling some alphas out of their money made me happy. Maybe the night wouldn’t be a total waste.
When I looked back to the bartop, there were four shots of cool, yes cool, tequila sitting in front of me. Not chilled. He didn’t shake them. He’d just pulled the bottle from the cooler and poured them straight into the filmy shot glasses. I supposed a clean glass would be too much to ask for in this shit hole. Whatever.
I tossed them all back. Back to back. The bartender raised a bushy eyebrow at me and I smiled innocently as I ordered four more. I’ll share these with Jack.
When I got to our table and hoisted myself up on the high stool Jack looked at me with a mischievous grin on his face. Drunk Jack was fun, but also the worst.