Page 6 of Magic Unrestrained

“Can I help you?” His voice was deep, smooth, with an edge of something darker, almost predatory. He leaned against the bar, his arms crossed, watching her with those unnerving eyes.

Savannah lifted her chin, ignoring how her pulse quickened under his gaze. “I’m here about the job. I heard you were hiring.”

The man raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a slow, dangerous smile. “You’re looking for a server position?”

“Yeah. I need work.” She kept her voice steady, though the energy between them buzzed with an intensity that left her off balance. She was used to facing demons and supernatural creatures, but whatever this man was, he set her on edge in a way she didn’t quite understand. It was dark, dangerous, and seductive as hell.

He studied her for a long moment, his gaze lingering a bit too long on her face as if he were searching for something. “You don’t look like you’re from around here,” he said, his tone both curious and cautious.

“Not at all. I was born here, up in the Garden District,” Savannah replied, forcing herself to meet his gaze head-on. She wasn’t about to let him intimidate her. “I put myself through college waitressing and working in bars. The pay wasn’t great, but the tips more than made up for it.”

He held her gaze, and for a moment, the tension between them thickened, crackling like a live wire. Then he nodded slowly, seemingly satisfied with her answer.

“Fine,” he said, straightening up. “You can start now.”

Savannah blinked in surprise. “Now?”

The bartender shrugged. “We open tomorrow night. We’ve got a lot to do. If you’re serious, you can help me get ready today and work the floor tomorrow. We’ll see how you handle the crowd.” He gave her another assessing look. “I’ll keep an eye on you.”

Savannah bit back the retort on her lips. This wasn’t the time to push buttons—she had her own agenda to focus on. “Deal,” she said, her voice steady. “I’ll get started.”

As she moved behind the bar to grab an apron, she felt the weight of his gaze follow her, and something told her this was going to be more complicated than she had anticipated.

As the afternoon wore on, Savannah quickly fell into the rhythm of working alongside Gage. He moved with an effortless grace, his hands deftly unpacking booze and setting up the back bar area, all the while directing her to get things polished or to play fetch for him. He kept his eye on her, his sharp eyes missing nothing. The more she watched him, the more she could feel the supernatural energy that clung to him, dark and wild, barely contained beneath the surface. She couldn’t place exactly what he was, but there was no denying the danger that radiated from him. He wasn’t fully human. Not by a long shot.

And yet…she was drawn to him. More than that, she was intrigued by him, even though every logical part of her brain screamed at her to stay far, far away.

Their interactions throughout the afternoon were brief, filled with quick exchanges and passing glances that sent sparks of tension between them. Savannah could sense that Gage was just as wary of her as she was of him. They were both holding something back, each trying to figure out what the other was without revealing too much.

At one point, as they double checked the inventory of the bar together, Gage broke the silence. “You’re not like any of the others they hired before I got here.”

Savannah smirked, glancing up at him. “Neither are you.”

He chuckled softly, though the sound didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re right. I’m not sure either of us really belongs.”

For a moment, the guardedness between them eased, replaced by a sense of shared understanding. As they continued talking, they touched on fragments of their pasts, though bothremained vague, careful not to reveal too much. They discovered they had more in common than either of them had expected.

“Our mothers,” Savannah said quietly, as she wiped down the counter, “they both had to leave their homes—although mine was because of choices she made.”

Gage’s expression darkened, and she could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. “My mother,” he said after a pause, “was forced out, too. Different reasons, but...the result was the same.”

Savannah studied him for a moment, sensing the weight of his words. He wasn’t telling her the full story, but then again, neither was she. Still, the connection between them deepened, their shared understanding of exile and loss hanging in the air between them.

They were both hiding something. But they were both trying to find out more about the other without tipping their hands too soon.

Before she could respond, a familiar voice interrupted them, coming from the entrance to the bar.

“Savannah Duvall. What are you doing here?”

Savannah spun around, her eyes narrowing as Detective Griff Broussard approached, his sharp gaze locking onto her. Griff was her sister Phoenix’s mate, and while she liked him well enough, his overprotective nature was starting to get on her nerves.

“I just wanted to say hello and let you know we’ll have an increased police presence on opening night—just in case things get out of hand.” He glanced at Savannah. “I didn’t know you were working here now,” Griff said, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at her apron.

Savannah rolled her eyes. “It’s temporary. And I don’t need you checking in on me, Griff. I’m not your little sister.”

Griff gave her a pointed look. “Maybe not, but you’re Phoenix’s. Same difference.”

“Excuse me?” Savannah shot back, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’m not a child.”

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