Page 11 of Soulmates

I passed through the main room of the club. It was busy, but that was to be expected on a Friday night. People moved out of my way as I slipped through the crowd toward the back of the room. Even though I hadn’t been inside the club in a long time, the alcove I’d always taken for myself was vacant, waiting for me to claim it once more.

And I would, but first I had some things to sort out.

I could go to my office straight from here, but I wanted to stop by the back rooms before I locked myself away.

Years hadn’t affected my memory or ability to navigate the hallways that wound into the deepest, darkest parts of Youngblood. This was the real heart of my establishment. Everyone knew about the club. Hell, everyone knew about the back rooms too. But very few ever got toseethe back rooms. Rumors flew about what they contained—everything from gambling dens to drug bars to a brothel. The truth was a bit different.

The guard who stood in front of the door was intimidating without even having to try. He’d always had a serious look about him. He was in his midthirties now. It was amazing how fast humans grew up.

“Thomas.” I greeted him with a nod.

His gray eyes narrowed on me, and I grinned. It was good to see he did his job as well as he had eight years ago. Thomas had always been one of my best.

I let a bit of heavenly fire thrum under my skin and make my normally dark eyes glow.

“Holy shit. Sam?”

“Were you expecting a different angel?” I asked.

“I wasn’t expecting any angels at all. Where the hell have you been for the past decade?”

My eyebrows rose.

“Sir,” he added, his tone holding a bit more respect.

“It hasn’t been a decade.” Though it’d been close enough.

“Yeah, looking at you, I could believe it was yesterday. That’s thoroughly creepy, you know. You’re younger than me.”

I chuckled. “No, I’m not. And you would do well to remember that.”

“Yes, sir.” He ran a hand over his buzzed hair, and a memory of when I’d met him flashed through my head, back when he’d had cornrows and couldn’t afford so much as a pair of jeans. His hand dropped from the back of his head, and he opened the door behind him, stepping back to let me enter the hallway beyond.

The back rooms were designed like a collection of old-fashioned man caves. The walls were dark wood with no windows, the only light coming from green lamps that hung from the ceilings. The floors were a mosaic, white with red flower petals spaced every few feet. Couches and tables of every kind filled the rooms.

It did kind of look like a gambling den actually. But I didn’t allow any betting in these rooms. Not for money anyway. Money wasn’t allowed in the back rooms at all. I did pay my employees, but not here, not in my sanctuary.

Heads turned as I walked into one of the rooms, looking up from games, conversations, and drinks. There were a lot of widening eyes and a few slackened jaws. I barely recognized some of them. I’d stayed in contact with them all over the years, but many of them only via phone. They’d grown up a lot while I’d been gone.

I smiled. My brothers didn’t understand why I kept a home in the mortal world, but I always felt better here, more alive. Honestly, I didn’t understand it either.

“Gentlemen. Ladies.”

It felt good to be back. To an outsider, this probably didn’t look like I was receiving a warm welcome, but I saw it in their eyes and their souls. Everyone was glad to see me even if they knew better than to try for physical affection.

“I want everyone who is available in this room in two hours,” I said. “We have some things to discuss.”

My words were met by nods of agreement, and I saw several phones being pulled out to spread the word to those who weren’t here.

I walked out and headed back to the main club, slipping through the door to my office. It was going to take some time to get acquainted with the current patrons and reestablish my reputation. It was one of the things I should discuss at the meeting later.

My private office was untouched since the last time I was here, which meant everything was coated in a layer of dust. The two large oak desks stood prominently in the middle of the office, covered in dark monitors that usually showed security footage from various parts of the building.

I sank into the chair behind the desks and a cloud of dust rose around me. Eight years was a fucking long time. I shouldn’t have stayed away so long. But there was no point in thinking about that now. I had work to catch up on.

* * *

Two hours was notenough time for me to sort through everything in my office and get all my files up to date. The problem was I hadn’t been on vacation for the past eight years. I’d been working, life had gone on for me and all my employees, but this room had stayed stuck in the 2010s. I was beginning to think it was going to take me days to get everything back in order.

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