Page 15 of The Demon's Sinful Serenade
"No, really, I shouldn't have done that." I backed away further, nearly tripping over a box. "I need to use the bathroom. Alone. I'll be right back."
I didn't look back to see his reaction. I couldn't. My heart was pounding too hard, my thoughts racing too fast. What had I been thinking? I'd hired him to protect me, not to?—
Not to what? Make you feel alive again?
I pushed through the bathroom door and leaned against the sink, staring at my reflection in the spotted mirror. My cheeks were flushed, my lips slightly swollen from the kiss. I looked... different. Bright in a way I hadn't been in a long time.
It was just a kiss. A mistake born of stress and proximity. Nothing more.
But it hadn't felt like just a kiss. It had felt like... like something clicking into place. Like a key turning in a lock I hadn't known existed.
I turned on the cold water and splashed my face, trying to cool the heat that still lingered on my skin. As I reached for a paper towel, the overhead lights flickered once, twice.
A chill rolled down my spine.
No. Not here. Not now.
I stared at my reflection, watching as the lights continued to stutter. Behind me, at the far end of the bathroom, a shadow moved where no shadow should be.
I whirled around, heart in my throat, just as the lights went out completely. The emergency lights kicked on a second later, bathing everything in a sickly red glow.
And there he was.
Standing at the end of the row of stalls, watching me with the same manic focus he'd always had on stage. The same dark eyes, the same lean frame, the same messy hair that fell across his forehead no matter how many times he pushed it back.
Julian.
A scream tore from my throat as he turned toward me, his face a blur in the red light.
The bathroom door burst open, and Zane charged in, crouching beside me in an instant. "What is it? What's wrong?"
I pointed a shaking finger toward the end of the bathroom. "There?—"
The lights flickered back on, harsh fluorescence flooding the room. Julian was gone, but the afterimage of him burned in my vision, as real as the sink beneath my white-knuckled grip.
"Tell me you saw it, too," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Tell me I'm not crazy."
Zane nodded slowly, his expression grim. "Who was that?"
I wasn't imagining things. I wasn't losing my mind.
"Julian Rathaway. The Rath to my River." I forced myself to meet Zane's eyes. "Only... he's been dead a year."
CHAPTER FIVE
ZANE
Iflipped the blade between my fingers, watching the overhead lights catch on the metal as it spun. Bad habit. Dangerous habit. If Kaz were here instead of handling royal bullshit at court, he'd snatch it midair and give methatlook—the one that said I was embarrassing the clan in front of clients.
But Kaz wasn't here, and River's eyes followed each rotation with undisguised fascination. Her tongue darted out, wetting her lower lip as she tracked the knife's path between my fingers. Her hands twitched against her thigh restlessly, like she fought the urge to reach out.
Something about her attention made my skin heat. Made me want to show off.
I flipped the knife again, higher this time, adding a second rotation before catching it by the handle without looking.
"Is that really necessary?" Poppy asked, perched on the edge of a chair like she might bolt any second. "Or are you just trying to lose a finger?"
River's lips quirked up at the corners, and something in my chest tightened. Her scent had changed since the bathroom incident, still rain and citrus, but sharper now. Afraid. The sightof her dead bandmate had rattled her more than she wanted to admit.
