Page 41 of Veil of Death and Shadow

His expression didn’t shift, and he didn’t pull away from me. With a shake of his head, he leaned a few inches closer. “Nah, you must have me confused with somebody else.”

There was a teasing quality to his tone that made whatever gymnastics my stomach had been doing before go full-on Olympics level now.

“And six years ago? You,” I licked my lips, my chest tightening as his eyes clocked the movement, “you saved me from being roadkill. The day of The Undoing. I remember you.”

“Now that,” he said, his gaze lingering on my mouth. “Definitely doesn’t sound like me. Not really a rescue the damsel sort.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m no damsel.”

There it was, that almost smirk again. Why the hell did I suddenly want to feel that smirk pressed against my skin? “No. I don’t suppose that you are. This isn’t really the place for damsels, is it?”

I held his stare as fire pooled low in my belly. I thought, briefly, of those bathroom stalls, of how I could maybe become a bathroom stall kind of girl, under the right conditions.

“Hey, Mareena,” a voice called from my left.

He stiffened.

I turned towards the voice, though I felt his gaze still drilling into me.

Ren walked closer, Lenora leaning against his side. Her perfectly crimson pout was now feathered and smudged around the edges, like it had been partially sucked off. I had no clue how she managed to pull it off, but somehow the dishevelled look only made her prettier.

Some things just weren’t fair.

“We uh . . .” Ren’s focus darted to the man, then back to me, his smile uncertain. “We were just coming to find you. You coming back to the floor?”

“Sorry.” When it became clear that my captor had no intention of moving, I ducked underneath his arm. “I got caught up on my way back.”

“Yeah.” Ren glanced behind me, where I felt the man’s presence like a blazing inferno at my back. “I see that.”

Lenora studied him with more interest than Ren did, her lips curving into a sultry smile. “Who’s your friend? He can come, too, if he wants.”

A stab of something unfamiliar, almost possessive, shot through me.

Not jealousy—but maybe jealousy’s second or third cousin.

I had no intention of dissecting why her obvious appreciation of him had my chest feeling uncomfortably tight—especially when I’d been all team more-the-merrier just a few minutes ago.

“Um this is . . .” I turned around, my breath catching when I realized that he was all but glued to my back. His face was unreadable, eyes latched on mine as if we hadn’t been interrupted. It became immediately clear in the echoing silence that he had no interest in helping me with a name. I narrowed my eyes and smirked. “Sir Broods-a-Lot.”

A deep, quiet sound, half growl, half chuckle reverberated in his chest, and I found myself desperate to hear it again, the urge to press my palm against his black shirt so I could feel the vibration of it so strong I had to use all of my will power to resist it.

“He’s not really one for words.” I took a step back, towards Ren and the girl, and it was like resisting the lure of a strong magnet—every inch away from him demanded effort on my part.

A muscle in his jaw tightened, and I had to forcibly turn away from him to keep from staring at it with a hunger I couldn’t explain.

“Well, good thing it’s not words that I want right now,” she said, her voice soaking in lust. She watched him ravenously, and I resisted the urge to step between them. “What do you say, Sir Broods-a-Lot? You want to join in on the fun? There are private rooms we can rent if that’s more to your taste—a private dance, maybe. Of course, Mareena has some restrictions,” her gaze dipped to the band at my wrist, “but that doesn’t mean she can’t participate or watch.”

“We enjoy sharing.” Ren trailed his fingers up the girl’s side, and she shivered, her eyelids heavy as she leaned into him and watched us.

My heart hammered in its cage at the offer. Any attraction I’d felt towards either of them before had withered up like a grapeleft out in the sun. Nothing sounded less appealing than the thought of Ren’s fingers on me, or Lenora’s on Mr. Mysterious.

“I don’t,” he said. “At least not with you.”

“Boo.” She pouted playfully. “No fun.”

“Suit yourself.” Ren shrugged, his focus returning to me. “Mareena, you coming?”

I shook my head. “I should check on my friend.”

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