Page 12 of The Demon's Sinful Serenade
Oh.That tone did things to my insides that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the way he'd been looking at me all day. The careful attention, the protective stance, the quietmoments when I'd catch him watching me with an expression I couldn't quite decipher.
Today had been... fun. Despite the circumstances, despite the reason he was here at all, I'd laughed more than I had in months. Maybe longer. When was the last time I'd felt this light? This hopeful?
Since before Julian died,I realized with a start.
I pushed the thought away. No. I wouldn't let Julian's ghost haunt this moment, too.
I watched Zane go, appreciating the way his black t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, and how his jeans hugged his thighs. He'd swapped his tactical pockets and holsters for more casual attire to blend in with the bar crowd, but there was no disguising the predatory slink in his movements.
My stomach did a little flip.Stop it, I told myself firmly.He's working. You're his job.
Plus, there was the whole pesky business of somehow salvaging a career once all this was over.
I turned my attention to setting up, removing my guitar from its case and checking the tuning. The familiar ritual focused my nerves where they belonged. This was what I knew. This was home.
I strummed a few chords, letting the sound wash over me as Zane spoke with Vanin and craned his neck to eyeball the ceiling fixtures with suspicion. After a brief back-and-forth, he seemed satisfied enough to continue on his circuit.
The sound check went smoothly. I adjusted the levels, tested the monitors, and ran through a quick scale. Everything seemed to work perfectly. No feedback, no electrical issues. Maybe my luck was finally changing.
That's when I saw it.
A figure slipped between two groups of people, moving with unnatural fluidity. One moment visible, the next obscured, asif the shadows themselves were parting to let them through. No one else seemed to notice, conversations continuing uninterrupted as the figure weaved closer to the stage.
My fingers stilled on the strings.
"Zane," I called, my voice barely audible over the crowd noise. I cleared my throat and tried again, louder. "Zane!"
He whipped around, instantly alert. I pointed toward where I'd seen the figure, but when I looked back, there was nothing there. Just people drinking, laughing, waiting for the show.
Zane was at my side in seconds, one hand on my elbow. "What did you see?"
"I—" I faltered, suddenly uncertain. Had I imagined it? "There was someone... something... moving through the crowd. Like they were invisible to everyone else."
His eyes narrowed as he scanned the room. "Where?"
"By the back wall, but they're gone now." I rubbed my arms, suddenly cold despite the warmth of the crowded bar. "I'mnotcrazy. I saw something."
"I believe you." His voice was firm, with no hesitation.
Those three words nearly broke me. Not once, not once since hearing me out, had he made me feel like I was making up the stalker. Even Poppy wanted to believe I'd lost myself to grief. If something happened to Zane, who would believe me then?
"We need to get you somewhere secure." Zane's hand tightened around my upper arm. "Now."
"But the show?—"
"Can wait." He was already moving, guiding me toward the back of the bar. "Vanin's office should be safe."
I glanced back at the crowd. "Shouldn't we stay where there are witnesses? Safety in numbers and all that?"
"Not if whoever's after you can move through a crowd undetected," Zane countered, still scanning the room as we moved. "I need you somewhere I can control the environment."
We were almost to the hallway leading to Vanin's office when a figure darted around the corner. Zane reacted instantly, shoving me behind him and dropping into a defensive stance a split second before the figure collided with his chest. The impact sent a small box flying, cookies scattering across the floor.
"Oh!" Poppy stumbled back, eyes wide. "I'm so sorry! I was just?—"
"It's fine," Zane cut her off, still tense as he scanned the area behind her. "Are you alone?"
Confusion raced across her expression as she slowly lowered the hood of her jacket. Herdarkjacket. I felt like an idiot.
