Page 23 of Azrael

“So I’m just supposed to, what, sit here in your house while you go off and do God knows what, and never ask questions?”My voice rose slightly.

“I’m not asking you to be blind or stupid,” Azrael said, his tone still measured.“You’ll learn how things work.But there are boundaries.Church, for example -- that’s when we meet around the table to vote on club matters.No one is allowed in unless they’re patched in, or unless Charming specifically invites them.”

“And that would include me.”

He nodded.“Unless Charming asks for you, which he might if it concerns you directly.Otherwise, you keep out.”

I took a sip of coffee, using the moment to gather my thoughts.“So I’m essentially being kept in the dark about most of what you do.”

“About some of what I do,” he corrected.“Most of my life is right here, in the open.I’m not some mystery man with a secret identity, Zara.I’m just a man who’s part of a brotherhood that values privacy and loyalty above all else.”

I studied him, searching for a hint of deception.His dark gaze met mine steadily, giving away nothing but sincerity.

“What happens when the people who took my mother are… dealt with?”I asked carefully.

A shadow crossed his face.“If you’re hoping I’ll say you can return to your old life, that’s not going to happen.I gave you a choice.Now you get to live with the consequences of your decision.”

He stood abruptly, moving to refill his coffee.I watched the fluid movement of his body, the controlled power in his shoulders and back.There was nothing superfluous about Azrael -- no wasted motion, no unnecessary words.

“There are other old ladies in the club,” he continued, his back to me.“Women who belong to patched members.They’re good people, for the most part.Some of them are a little… extra.Clarity is married to Scratch.He was our VP for years.She’s solid.Then there’s Jordan, she’s with our Sergeant-at-Arms, Havoc.Quite a few others.They’ll help you get oriented.”

“Old ladies,” I repeated, tasting the unfamiliar term.“That’s what you call your… girlfriends?”

He turned back to me, leaning against the counter.“Wives, girlfriends, significant others.It’s just the term we use.Has been since before my time.”

“And is that what I am?Your ‘old lady’?”I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my tone neutral despite the flutter in my stomach.

Azrael’s gaze was steady.“You’re under my protection.You’ll wear my patch.So, yeah.”

I nodded slowly, filing that information away to examine later when I wasn’t sitting across from him.

“I’ll introduce you to a few of the ladies tonight or tomorrow,” he continued.“It might help to have women to talk to who understand this life.”

“I appreciate that.”And I did.The thought of navigating this strange new world alone was daunting.

Azrael hesitated, then added, “Most of the women you saw at the clubhouse this morning are club girls.Remember when I said the women here had one of two roles?They entertain the men in the club.They’re not forced to be there -- they choose it.Some are looking to become old ladies.Others just like the lifestyle.”

“Entertain,” I repeated, the euphemism not lost on me.“When you said it before, I assumed you meant they had sex with the club members.Is that right?”

He didn’t flinch.“Yes.”

“And that’s… normal?Expected?”

“It’s how it’s been for a long time,” he said simply.“Not every member participates.It’s a personal choice.”

I took a deep breath, wrestling with my reaction.On one hand, I wanted to be judgmental.On the other, I couldn’t ignore that these women had apparently made their own decisions.

“And you?”I asked, the question burning in my throat.“Do you… participate?”

His expression remained impassive.“I haven’t been with any of them in over a year.”

The relief that flooded me was as unwelcome as it was immediate.I had no claim on this man.No right to care who he slept with.Yet something possessive curled in my chest at the thought of him with one of those women.

“Why not?”I pressed, unable to stop myself.

A shadow crossed his face.“Doesn’t interest me anymore.”

There was more to it -- I could see it in the way his gaze shifted slightly, the minute tightening of his jaw.But I sensed it was one of those boundaries he’d just established.Club business, perhaps, or something personal he wasn’t ready to share.

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