How the hell did I land myself in this position? Oh yes, I remember. I scoff at myself. They caught me bloody red-handed, that’s how. I’m in a shitload of trouble, and it’s only going to get worse. I have to think fast about what I will say, I can’t be caught without a good excuse. It has to appear genuine; I can’t sound like I’m lying.
Not only that, but I know the glamour isn’t going to last much longer. Nor will the protection spells. I can already feel them wavering and know I have an hour, at most. If I’m really lucky, I might get a bit more than that, but my luck hasn’t exactly served me well tonight. I just have to hope I can get out of this predicament before the spells wear off. I think my best bet is to play dumb. I’ll just say that I got lost and didn’t realize I’d entered a part of the club that was off-limits.
I know he is coming. I can feel him reaching out. The feeling is so intense, I can sense the energy pouring in through the building walls, his power radiating to my very core. I look down and see the concealment spell flicker, my body briefly appearing before turning back to my disguise.
Shit, the spells are wearing off. Is it because of the power he holds or are the spells not as powerful as we thought? No matter which way I look at it, I’m about to be in deep trouble, and if I’m being honest with myself, there’s no way out at the moment.
Megan has been here; I saw her in a vision. She was with somebody else—a man – but I couldn’t make out who it was. His face was in shadow. That’s the only vision I’ve had in the two hours I’ve been in the club. I now know, without a doubt, that somebody took her. But how? Why? I don’t know. My vision didn’t show me anything.
The only feeling I’d gotten from her was that she’d been happy. So happy. It was as if she had not a care in the world and was floating on fluffy white clouds. Had someone drugged her? It was possible, but with what or by whom I hadn’t a clue. Not yet anyway. It is so frustrating not knowing who the hell had taken her. Though she hadn’t been frightened in the man’s company, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been in danger.
My thoughts pause, my gaze turning to where I hear footsteps just behind the door. Two deep male voices penetrate through the dark wood, and I try to listen to what they’re saying, but all I can make out are a few random words here and there. No matter how hard I try, I can’t make out their conversation. I sit with bated breath, waiting for the door to open.
Without a doubt, I know Lucien Sinclair is behind that door. I don’t like the thoughts that keep popping into my mind, a mix of dark and sexual musings. The way my body is reacting to him when he isn’t even in the room is beyond frightening.
I know from the pictures I’ve seen of him that he’s a raw sexual being. I’ve never been one to frighten easily. I generally know what is coming and have learned to accept it to a certain extent. This is something entirely different. He is something entirely different. I’ve never met the man, but I know there is a deep well of darkness inside of him. He is the dark to my light
I can feel that darkness pouring into the room and sinking into the surrounding walls, and I hate to admit it, even to myself… but it scares the shit out of me.
I continue to wait for my fate to walk through the door. I’ve decided to fight whatever it is the visions in my dreams are trying to show me. It just cannot happen.
I choke back a laugh. Who the fuck do I think I’m kidding? Even if I fight with everything I have, I know I’m incapable of stopping the outcome. The fates must be having a grand laugh at my expense. If I could get my hands on even one of them, I’d give them a piece of my mind. No. I would ring their bloody necks! I don’t give a damn that they’re supposed to be friends to the witches.
I force myself to get out of the chair and move over to the large window on the other side of the room and gaze out at the inky darkness of night. Taking a deep breath, I let out a low laugh. I want to yank the damn door open and demand what the holdup is; just get it over and done with.
I bite back a scream of frustration. I’ve never been one to wait patiently. It just isn’t in my nature. It’s one of my many flaws, or so my family likes to inform me.
My breath catches and I stand deadly still when I hear the door swing open and I’m shocked to see only one figure enter the room. He doesn’t need to introduce himself. I knew who it was going to be long before he arrived, and my deepest fears are confirmed once I see him come through the heavy wooden door. Lucien Sinclair.
I can see his reflection staring back at me from the glass window, causing me to gasp for air. It feels as though someone has sucked all the oxygen out of the room and it’s making it hard for me to breathe.
The door closes with a loud click, and I find myself utterly alone with the man of my dreams. No. The man of my nightmares. I can feel his dark gaze boring into the back of my head as if he’s attempting to worm his way into my mind so he can read my thoughts. I can feel those same eyes running down my body, inspecting me in the red and black uniform. I pray the enchantment holds just a little bit longer. Long enough for me to get out without anyone seeing my true form.
I stand utterly still, my feet rooted to the floor. An air of danger sweeps over me, seemingly oozing from his pores and swirling around me, as if it could trap me and swallow me whole.
He’s huge; much bigger in the flesh than in any of the photos I’ve seen of him. He must stand at least 6’4”, maybe even taller. His body appears more muscled than it did in my visions and dreams. His eyes are penetrating past my skin, through my bones, burning a hole down to my very soul. His gaze feels like hands touching me, stroking me, holding me in place. He moves closer, scrutinizing me with those bottomless black eyes like he’s a menacing predator and I’m his wary prey.
Does he expect me to make a run for it? Hell, where would I even go? The door is now tightly shut, and he’s standing directly in the path of any hope of freedom I could have harbored. My survival instinct tells me to try anyway, to get the hell out of here. This is Hell and the flames will lick at my skin until they burn me alive. I take a steadying breath, attempting to regain control over my thoughts and emotions. This man is far more dangerous than my sisters and I ever could have prepared for.
He stops a few feet away from me, standing half in the shadows, the other half bathed in light. It makes him look like a phantom, a hallucination, and makes it harder for me to get a read on him. He stands there quietly, staring at me. Is he waiting to see if I will say something? It almost feels like he’s daring me to attempt escape. I remain silent and so does he, neither of us speaking as our eyes lock on one another.
For the briefest moment, his head moves out of the shadows, and I catch a glimpse of his reflection. His face is a mask, devoid of any emotion. I realize I won’t be able to read him. I gather what courage I can muster up, swallow down my fears, and slowly turn around. The room suddenly feels sweltering, as though the heat has been jacked way up.
His eyes pierce through me, threatening to snatch my soul and devour it. I feel like a cute little bunny left alone with a starving feral wolf. For what seems like eternity, but can only be mere minutes, he stares at me wordlessly. His silence speaks volumes. The man in front of me is unlike any I’ve known before and is more calculating, more dangerous, more everything, than I possibly could have understood.
My heart is racing with the realization that I’ve put myself and my loved ones in an unsafe situation. Coming here to figure out what happened to Megan wasn’t the smartest decision I’ve ever made, but it was the only thing my sisters and I could think of, and the man standing in front of me might be the only person who can give us any answers. Unfortunately, my visions only allow me to see so much.
“I’m Lucien Sinclair,” he finally speaks, his head now cocked to one side, his gaze locked on my face. “You are…” he doesn’t phrase it like a question, as if he knows the answer already and wants to see if I’ll give him the truth.
I stare at the TV monitors situated across one wall, where an array of shots of the interior and exterior of the club have appeared. A sickening realization dawns on me and settles in the pit of my stomach. He’s seen everything I’ve done. He had eyes on me the entire time I was sneaking around and snooping. The possibility that he might have evidence of what happened to Megan also occurs to me. He likely has a recording of the night she visited with her friends and might even have video of the person who took her.
“You’ve been watching me?” I whisper, my gaze flying from the monitors to the man standing before me.
“Nothing gets by me. I have eyes and ears everywhere,” he replies, with no remorse or shame. “Your name? Do not make me ask again,” he demands as he takes a seat in the oversized jade green leather chair, his back to the monitors. His eyes bore into me, watching me like a hawk about to strike.
I’m ashamed of how afraid I am in his presence; I’m scared shitless. The other feelings flooding my body are ones I’d rather not scrutinize too closely. He’s formidable, his power flowing out around him, filling the room and seeping under my skin. I think I need help, the way I’m feeling can’t possibly be normal. If I’m not careful, I may find myself on my knees, begging for his attention like a puppy to her master.
I shake those thoughts from my mind and focus on the matter at hand. While I know the best course of action at this point is to ask him for help, I’m also aware that my sisters will be livid that I didn’t tell them what I intended all along. It was the reason I was so insistent that I be the one to come here. Though I’d tried my damnedest to avoid him, I’d known all along that fate would bring us to this moment. Now I need to ask him the question; one simple question that shouldn’t be so difficult to ask.
Can I really ask this man, this demon, for help? We need to find Megan, and he might be the only one who can help us. He has enough power in the palms of his hands to find her, but I can’t help but wonder what he may ask in return. The very thought terrifies me. I don’t doubt his demands will be high. I could end up in a situation far worse than the one I’m currently in.
Looking into the darkness of his fathomless eyes, I can see how accustomed he is to being in control. People bow down to him without hesitation. Asking Lucien Sinclair for help will be making a deal with the devil. Am I prepared for that?
I remain still, incapable of speaking, of answering his question. I feel myself staring at him, my eyes wide open in fear. My tongue feels glued to the roof of my mouth, making it impossible for me to say anything.
The loud slap of his large hand against the top of the desk makes me jolt in surprise and jerks me out of my fog-filled trance. Should I give him my real name? Before I can think it through fully, I hear the words leave my mouth.
“Scarlett Winters,” I whisper, feeling like my throat is closing up. The words are thick and heavy, and my heart is racing. My hands tremble, so I make a fist with each hand in an effort to control my reaction. I feel as though I’ve been drugged and have lost control over my body. I offer up a silent prayer that he can’t sense how nervous he’s made me. I fight the urge to run, knowing that staying is the only way I will get the help my sisters and I need.
“Scarlett,” my name rolls around his mouth as though he’s tasting it. Savoring it. “And what were you doing, snooping in areas you shouldn’t have been?” he asks softly, raising a dark eyebrow.
I have to make a decision, quickly. It’s obvious he knows or suspects that I’m here under false pretenses. How much he knows is impossible to ascertain. I need to give him as much of the truth as possible so I can gain his trust and his help in finding Megan.
The thought occurs to me that whatever we agree on will be nullified once my glamour wears off and I decide I’ll just have to make him an offer he can’t refuse. What could that be, though? What could he want from me? And will I be able to handle it? I have no experience with sex, though it’s unlikely he would ask for it. If the rumors of his distaste of humans hold any truth, he won’t ask for sex. I can handle anything else he throws my way. I hope.
So, I’ll just tell him why I’m here. If I have to, I’ll offer a little while lie and claim we bought the spells from one of those old shops downtown. What could go wrong?
“I’m looking for someone,” the words gush from my mouth like water from a busted pipe. “My sister. She was last seen at your club a few nights ago when she was out with a group of her friends.” I don’t hesitate long enough for him to say anything. “I have no one else to ask for help,” I breathe out slowly, trying to appear calm and failing miserably.
He watches me silently with a glare that says I’ve intruded on his time and space, which is precisely what I’ve done. I wait for his response, but nothing happens. We stare at each other silently for what feels like forever. His focus is calculating, intimidating. I’m terrified but proud that I found the courage to ask him for help.
He isn’t human. Oh, he looks the part, and if it weren’t for his soulless, bottomless eyes, and if I didn’t know any better, I might believe he was human. But he isn’t. He is one of the most dangerous, most feared beings known to any human or Natural. He’s someone you do not want to cross.
“Why do you think I’d be interested in helping you?” he asks softly as he leans back in his chair, his face giving nothing away.
I swallow, buying time to think of a reason. “Well, it’s not good for business to have innocent people go missing from your establishment. It would be bad news for anyone, but especially for Lucien Sinclair.” I swallow hard. I’m nervous and despite my best efforts, I’m certain those nerves are showing. “I will do anything you want if you help us find our sister.” Shit! Did those words really just leave my mouth? Please, no. How could you have been so stupid, Scarlett? If it were possible, I would kick my own ass. I just admitted that I’m not the only person looking for Megan and outed my family’s involvement. I hold my breath, hoping he didn’t catch my slip-up.
“So, you will do anything? Does that include your family?” His voice is like ice; emotionless, brutal, and unforgiving as he stands up and moves closer until his body is almost touching mine. I call upon my will to remain still. I steady my feet, unwilling to take a step back or show any sign of weakness. “Or does that offer only include you? Mm, would you let me defile you? Take whatever I want, without question?” His throat releases a rough noise, like a growl, making him sound like a predator on the prowl. The sound causes my body to tense, even more so than the weight of his gaze scouring my body.
Well, he definitely caught my mistake. This isn’t good. I wonder if he knows that the façade before him isn’t my own. I can’t help but look down at myself and feel relief rush through me when I see that the glamour is still in place, though I know it won’t remain much longer. The spell has already dwindled significantly over the last few minutes. The thought occurs to me that he can see past the façade in front of him and see my proper form. If that’s the case, I’m beyond fucked. I bite back the panic threatening to overwhelm me.
“The offer only includes me,” I whisper, biting my bottom lip as I basically admit my family’s involvement.
“What makes you think I even want to help?” he eyes me for a long second, reading my reaction to his words and proximity before continuing. “Even with the oh-so-tempting offer you’ve made.”
He begins to circle around me, his eyes raking over my body like hot coals. I sense him behind me just before I feel his hard body press against my own. He bends his head down, and with his mouth right up against my ear, whispers, “You reek of desperation, and that alone makes me rock hard. It makes me want to take you up on your offer.”
My entire body is rigid, his fiery breath caressing my skin. His voice is so deep, so heavy, it feels as though it’s weighing me down. It’s sucking me under, causing me to feel like I need to hold on to something to keep my knees from buckling under the heft of it.
I’m at a loss as to how I should respond. I almost feel like Alice after she’s fallen down the rabbit hole, but this isn’t a dream I can wake from. This is my reality.
“Tell. Me. Why. I. Should. Help?” he growls softly into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “And how will it benefit me?”
My mind is a complete blank. I have nothing to offer, no reasonable response to his question. The only thing I have to offer is myself, which isn’t a great bargaining chip. He has plenty of women at his beck and call to satisfy his every desire.
I finally force the words past my lips, “I don’t know.” My words are barely audible, though my desolation screams loudly. He has no reason to help us, but we need him. The fear he inspires, along with the information he could provide would be invaluable in our quest. “I don’t know,” I repeat, my voice firmer than it was a few seconds before. “But we don’t know anyone else who can help us find our sister.”
“You’re not helping your case, little human. You need to give me something that will make me want to help you,” he tells me as he presses his hard body closer to mine.
“Me,” I whisper with a murmur, “I can only offer you …Me.”
