Page 20 of The Arbiter

Grabbing handfuls of his black t-shirt, I jerk him to me. Our tongues do a dance for dominance, but he finally caves with a groan that makes me wish there were less clothes between us. His hands skim over my skin until he gets to my ass. From there, he lifts right under my cheeks, and I wrap my legs around him.

I know we’re headed straight toward my room, but I wouldn't care if he walked us down the two flights of stairs to the dance floor below us. It wouldn't stop what’s happening.

We barely make it through the doorway before I've dropped my feet and am ripping the shirt from his body. I don't remember much about last night, so I fully intend to make up for that. He stands like an ancient statue, letting me undress him until he's standing fully naked in front of me, and my mouth waters at all the pale skin on display.

I feel my second form taking over, and she's hungry. He reaches for me, and I slap his hand away. Undressing in two seconds, I turn us until we're directly where we need to be for me to shove him back on the bed. The backs of his knees hit the edge, and he goes down like a rock. As I climb up his body, his hands reach for me, but I smack them away again, and he moves them to rest above his head.

Holy damnation.

That one little move flexes the muscles from his abs to his biceps. Laid out beneath me, this Strige Liege of the Infernal is at my whim and mercy. I take him into my body, and that energy rolls underneath my skin again. I growl at the sensation of the two feelings at the same time. With my second form taking over, I rock myself against his body and steal a breathtaking pull from him. It does nothing to quell the energy. If anything, it makes it worse.

He looks to my face as he lifts his hands in question. When I don't make any motion to stop them, they find my inner thighs. As I rock against him again, those slim fingers find the sweet spot between my legs, and there's no helping the moan that escapes my lips. There's a satisfied smirk on his face, and it's then that I feel his power touching mine.

It only takes another few minutes of his fingers working their magic before my body tenses up on his. I look down at him, fearful of what will happen when this energy escapes.

"Let go, ma chérie. I've got you," he says, and those simple words are my undoing.

My blood boils, and I can feel my second form flashing in and out again. I let go, and the fibers within me shred from the release of power. I feel like I should be millions of tiny particles floating around the room, but I’m not. I’m still whole and cradled against Monroe’s chest as he moves us up the bed.

As we lay there, I decide since this is the second time I’ve taken him to my bed, I should probably at least know a little more about him.

“Tell me some stuff about you. Anything. Maybe your home?” I suggest. Anything to distract me from all the weird and stressful shit that has gone down since becoming the Arbiter. I’d already been curious about what his home was like since the moment I heard that Cajun accent, and I was finding that I enjoyed Monroe’s company more than I probably should. Not only was he sexy as sin on the outside but also intelligent and kind. My curiosity to know more about him was finally getting the better of me.

He tells me of his life on the bayou. Apparently, he lives in a very large plantation home in Lafayette, Louisiana, and a lot of his loyal people live spread out along the property.

The way that he describes it is beautiful. Warm spring evenings when the cicadas sang. The air is so thick and warm, it wraps around you like a thick flannel blanket. The smell of honeysuckle clogs the air with its sweet scent. And the nights…those sound like the best. Dark nights filled with the illumination of flashing lightning bugs, like hundreds of tiny stars floating so close you can reach out and touch them.

Learning even the tiniest bit about the Strige Lord creates an even stronger draw to him, and I fall asleep to the sound of his voice in my ear.

Larkan

The loud music pulses through the walls of the club, and I can feel it like a drum inside my body. With my hypersensitive senses, I’ve never been one for this kind of scene. I normally let the young ones handle something like this. When the call came through a while ago, there were whispers of the Arbiter. No one dared argue with me when I claimed this case for myself. Being the last direct descendant of Abel has its perks.

I didn’t need a name or an address; I had known days ago who the next Arbiter would be. As soon as I allowed myself to heal that half-breed, I felt her power already trying to cling to mine like a second skin. Were it any other than me, there would have been serious consequences, and I’m still not exactly even sure why I did that. As it were, I got a just slap on the wrist.

There are always side effects of healing people. The only times I’ve ever done it, I’d healed humans, and they are easy enough to erase memories from. Plus, they simply don’t harbor the kind of energy that we do. They don’t latch themselves on to you to the point where you can’t even get to sleep at night for worrying about their safety. Not like the lovely Nocturna.

I’ve not been able to erase her from my head since the cleanup. Even with all the kidnappings we’ve answered calls for lately, she’s still front and center. I felt the shift of power when she became the new Arbiter, and it’s been unconsciously calling to me like a moth to a flame.

Glares are thrown at me as I make my way up the staircase to the second floor, where it was relayed for us to meet. A burly Strige falls in step with me as I crest the stairs, but. I expect nothing less as an armed Rite walking into a den of Infernal.

I feel her before even seeing her, that new power calling to me like a beacon in the crowd. It awakens parts of me that have laid dormant for years. Before I even open my mouth to say anything, I watch her stiffen from behind. Loud music and a room full of Infernal, just what every Rite wants to end the day with.I despise being in this place. The only thing that makes this whole trip worthwhile is the possibility of sating my curiosity. It's been a long time since anyone has captured my attention and never has it been a Damned. That’s almost taboo among the likes of us. Given how profusely it’s frowned upon, it’s a surprise there are as many as a hundred halfies in existence. Considering the number of people in the entire earthly realm, it’s not a lot. But amongst us, it’s more than what’s considered common. Then again, we need them despite looking down on them. It’s a paradox.

My need to know more about this spell that she's woven over me is more important than anything else at this point.

She turns around, and that power rubs against me again, causing me to shift subtly to hide the clear-cut evidence of just how much she's affecting me. No one other than the Strige at her side catches it even though the entire room faces me at this point. I'm sure they're all too worried about a Rite being within smiting distance.

I listen with as much patience as I can muster while keeping my face hidden and replying only when necessary. The Lupin stabs Nocturna with his eyes when he thinks that no one is watching, and without meaning to, I step a little closer to her. There's no doubt in my mind that the two Infernal on either side of her would jump first, but they still wouldn't beat me to him.

I despise leaving her behind with those Infernal and turning my back and walking away is more difficult than it should be. Half-breed or Arbiter, I’m sure that she can hold her own, but that still doesn’t settle well in my gut. Especially now that I’ve gotten a good look at the two Damned protecting her. The one seems to be one of the rare good ones, but the other is wearing a very dangerous mask.

I leave out the side door, and my ears finally get a break from the overbearing noise. Picking up a faint trail of Nocturna’s scent, I follow it up the stairs to the third landing. There, I pause for a moment and look out over the old cemetery while lost in thought.

If only there were a way to get her alone. I would be able to bind her to me, so I’d know if she were ever in trouble. If the Order ever found out, though, I’d be getting more than a slap on the wrist. There’s only so much allowance I’m given even as Abel’s descendant.

I wonder for a second if I could use our power’s weak connection to call her to me. Sending out a small push to her, it takes a few minutes before I hear the door I exited from opening. Throwing up a few shadows around myself, I step back into the darkness.

She takes a deep breath of the cold night air and lets it out in a puff of white smoke before climbing the stairs to where I’m waiting. When I reveal myself, she lets out a quick scream that I try to muffle with my hand, but someone still heard down below. One of her Strige or Lupin guards, I’m sure. They may be the hired hands of the club, but with her new status, I don’t think she realizes just how many of them are now willing to sacrifice their lives for her.

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