Page 5 of Magic Unrestrained

As he wiped down the bar and rearranged the bottles for what felt like the hundredth time, his ears caught the low murmur of voices from the back office. Gage wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but something about the hushed tones set his instincts on high alert.

Edward Falwell, the club owner, was talking to someone—a woman, her voice smooth and low, laced with authority. Gage moved closer to the door, careful to stay out of sight.

“…the project is nearly ready,” Edward was saying, his tone tinged with nervousness. “Madame Vesper, I assure you, everything will be in place by the time the lounge opens.”

Gage’s pulse quickened.Madame Vesper?The name wasn’t one you could easily forget. Madame Vesper Nightshade was a centuries-old vampire notorious for running an exclusive supernatural brothel catering to the darkest desires of the city’s elite—human and supernatural alike.

“And you’re sure no one suspects anything?” Vesper’s voice was cool, calculated.

“Not a soul,” Edward replied, though there was a tremor in his voice that suggested otherwise.

Gage’s gut twisted. He didn’t know what this "project" was, but whatever it entailed, it couldn’t be good. Not if it involved Madame Vesper. He forced himself to step away from the door before he overheard more than he should.

Just then, the front door of the lounge creaked open, and Gage’s attention snapped to the entrance. A young woman with spiked blue hair and curves to die for strolled in. Dressed intorn jeans and a black bralette top, her eyes scanned the room with curiosity. She looked out of place, her leather jacket and combat boots more suited to the gritty streets than the polished interior of the lounge. But there was something else about her—an energy, faint but unmistakable.

Supernatural.

Gage swallowed hard, an inexplicable pull forming in his chest as he watched her. She was different. Not quite human, though he couldn’t place what she was. The raw power that radiated off her was familiar in a way that unnerved him. And worse, he was drawn to it.

Shaking off the strange sensation, Gage stepped forward, clearing his throat. “Can I help you?”

The woman turned her gaze to him, her sharp eyes locking onto his. “I’m here about the job,” she said, her voice low but confident. “I heard you’re hiring.”

Gage blinked, trying to ignore the thrum of energy that coursed through him at the sound of her voice. “You’re looking for a waitressing position?” He forced his tone to remain steady, though inside, the demon in him stirred, restless.

She nodded. “Yeah. I need work.”

He took a deep breath, his senses on high alert as he motioned for her to follow him to the bar. “I’m Gage. Let’s talk,” he said, keeping his voice neutral. But inside, a storm raged.

As he asked her the usual questions, Gage struggled to keep his focus. The pull he felt toward her was undeniable, a magnetism that set his every nerve on edge. Was it her supernatural nature? Or something more? He couldn’t say. All he knew was that the fine line he walked between wolf, demon, and human felt thinner than ever in her presence.

And it was only a matter of time before he crossed it.

Chapter

Three

SAVANNAH

The Obsidian Lounge pulsed with energy, a living, breathing entity that matched the beat of Savannah’s racing heart as she stepped across the threshold. The deep, seductive bass of the music thrummed through the speakers—loud enough to be heard from outside the door but not nearly as loud as it would be on opening night. She suspected then that the walls and floors would actually vibrate. The low lighting cast the entire room in a haze of shadows and filtered sunlight, flickering against the polished surfaces of the bar, the high-gloss tables, and the sultry red velvet booths. The place was designed to impress, and it did.

Yet, Savannah felt more than just the ambiance of the room. Beneath the glamour, the Obsidian Lounge thrummed with an undercurrent of supernatural energy—dark, primal, and electric. It called to her senses, prickling along her skin in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature.

She paused at the entrance, eyes adjusting to the dim light, her hand instinctively flexing at her side. And then she saw him.

The bartender.

Her breath caught in her throat as recognition hit her with the force of a freight train. His dark hair was tousled in thatcareless way, falling just into his intense, piercing eyes. Eyes she had only ever seen in her dreams.

Him.

The man from her sketches. The one who haunted her every thought, his face creeping into every drawing, every restless night. Savannah’s heart skipped a beat as their gazes locked, a jolt of shock and something darker, more dangerous, rushing through her. She wasn’t sure what unnerved her more—the fact that he was real or the way her body reacted to the sight of him.

Leave. Get out while you can.Her instincts screamed at her, but she didn’t move. Despite the warning bells blaring in her head, the pull to stay was stronger. Something about this place, abouthim, was too compelling. She couldn’t turn her back on either.

No. Going undercover here was too good of an opportunity. She needed to figure out what was happening at The Obsidian Lounge, and this was her chance to do it, even if it meant dealing with the strange, intoxicating allure of the man behind the bar. Besides, her sisters and Aunt Maeve would definitely have told her not to get involved, which was all the more reason to stay.

Steeling herself, Savannah forced her legs to move, making her way across the room. The bartender’s eyes stayed on her, following her every move with the same intensity she had seen in her dreams. By the time she reached the bar, the air between them practically hummed with tension.

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