Page 194 of Craving Venom

“Yeah.” Though my eyes are fixed on the deep thorns lining the stems.

I reach out without thinking.

A sharp sting shoots through my fingertip.

“Shit.”

I pull back as a thin drop of blood wells up.

“Careful,” Tria cautions. “Come on, butterfingers. Let’s check out the music room. Xaden is in there.”

I nod, sucking the blood from my fingertip as we follow the path leading back inside.

The music hits before we even reach the door.

We step inside, and the sight that greets me is… unexpected.

Xaden’s at the drum kit, flying the sticks over the snares and cymbals with a focus that feels out of place on his usually bored face. He’s not beating at them in blind frustration. He’s good, precise, and he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Two inmates flank him.

The one on bass is tall and lean, with pale skin and a calm intensity in his eyes. His fingers pluck the strings as though they are an extension of himself

The other guy’s at the keyboard, shorter, stockier, with tattoos crawling up his arms and peeking out from beneath the sleeves of his jumpsuit.

“Damn.” Tria’s eyes widen at the sight. “I didn’t expect…”

“Professional-level talent?” I finish for her.

“Exactly.”

The beat slows and the rhythm softens as Xaden finally turns his attention to us.

“Ladies,” he drawls and twirls the drumsticks between his fingers.

“Didn’t know you had moves like that,” Tria teases.

“Many talents.” Xaden winks at her. “Come meet the band,” he says, standing up and gesturing toward them.

The guy on bass steps forward first.

“Michael.” He extends his hand.

“Tria,” she responds, her smile genuine as she shakes his hand. “Faith.”

“Nice to meet you,” I shake his hand, offering a small, polite smile.

“Likewise.”

The other guy moves next, wiping his hands on his pants before extending one toward Tria.

“Leo,” he says, flashing a grin that’s a little too cocky for someone locked behind bars. His tattoos snake up his neck, disappearing beneath his collar. “Keyboard maestro and occasional troublemaker.”

“Tria.” She smiles, shaking his hand.

“Faith,” I echo softly, shaking his hand.

“Faith,” he repeats, holding my gaze a second longer than necessary. “Pretty name.”

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