The Sleeper's Harp (The Arcane Artifacts, #1)

Chapter 13 - Meeting Aramis

Bastian left Eleanor standing at the bar, walking towards the VIP area. She'd followed his directions to a T, innocently sipping her cocktail without actually swallowing any of it. They'd only lingered for two minutes, pretending to make small talk, before he'd dismissed himself. It was harder than he realized, turning his back on her, but the glamor held. He could feel it channeling through the gold ring like a conduit, a steady siphon of power.

No one would bother her.

His fist clenched and unclenched. The irrational part of him was spun tight, ready to pounce on anyone who got too close. He needed to leash himself, remind himself that she wasn't his. Aside from protecting her, everything else shouldn't matter.

He approached the bouncers guarding Aramis's area.

"Boss's expecting you," Derek said, unclipping the red rope that acted as a barrier. He nodded in greeting, walking by. Through the conduit, he sent a flare of heat—Eleanor's signal.

"Bastian," Aramis growled, getting to his feet, greeting him like an old friend. He was several inches taller and built like a powerhouse. Most fae scorned half breeds, especially goblins, but Aramis had never been like that. Males like Aramis couldn't afford to, given who he was. "Almost expected you to ride in on your bike, like last time." The fae strode forward and clapped him on the back. "Don't think I'll ever forget the sight of you riding that thing down the stairs and scaring the shit out of my patrons."

"I brought something better this time," he said, returning the greeting.

"Oh? That pretty fae kitten you walked in with? Where is she? Afraid I might bite?"

"Something like that."

Aramis motioned him forward and they took their seats.

"Come now, I certainly hope you won't keep her hidden all night."

"I have no intention of that. Surely you know me better, Aramis." His gaze turned towards the dance floor. From where they sat, they had a direct line of sight. There she was, right on cue. The head of pink hair bobbed through the crowd, right towards the middle of the floor.

"What will you have to drink?" Aramis asked, not having noticed. He'd downed his whiskey at the bar, so he requested another. Aramis gave the order to the server on call, who momentarily disappeared.

He hadn't taken his eyes from Eleanor. Aramis finally noticed and chuckled. "Ah. Not hidden at all. Excellent."

Eleanor started to dance. It happened gradually at first. The initial moments went unnoticed, but as she began to move, stretching and swaying, moving like a cat waking from a nap, a trance settled over those nearest her. If he weren't absolutely certain she was human, he'd wonder if she might have siren blood. Beside him, Aramis was silent, shrewd eyes missing nothing.

Good.

The crowd pushed further away, giving her room. Some continued dancing, while others stopped simply to watch. Her movements came faster, timed to the rhythm of the beat, growing more erotic.

His cock twitched. He inhaled, nostrils flaring. The server appeared with his drink. He took it without looking up.

"My, my," Aramis purred. "Where have you been hiding her? Had I known, I'd have invited you back sooner."

His lungs expanded, eyes pinned to Eleanor's body. Everything disappeared. Heat built, radiating from his chest, dropping straight to his balls. His mind raced through scenarios, each more outrageous than the last. Licking up the column of her neck, tasting the pulse that raced there. Wrapping his hands around her hips, grinding her against his cock. Listening to her make those sweet sounds he'd heard earlier. If she sounded like that eating his food, what would she sound like riding his dick? His muscles twitched. He felt a strange urge to stand, to go to her, to wrap his body around hers and dance.