Page 76 of Poet & Protector

I leaned over the railing. From my vantage point in the VIP section on the second floor of Eden, I watched the throng of humans dancing on the first floor. They were packed together so tightly breathing must have been a feat. The club smelled of sweat, adrenaline, and lust mingling with the floral-scented haze that hung in the air.

The VIP area offered a luxury of space. There were still plenty of dancers undulating on the glossy black floor, but they weren’t crowded together unless by choice.

I’d been to Eden a few times and it never failed to make a strong impression. Our master Efron liked to put his signature style into his various properties around Vail and this club was no exception. His take on paradise was, unsurprisingly, an inversion of anything heavenly.

The most obvious examples were the succubi moving seductively on platforms scattered throughout the VIP section. Their writhing bodies, chime-like laughter, and the spellcraft spilling from their lips in the form of perfumed mist blurred the line between the mortal and magical realms. I didn’t know precisely what spells the succubi’s breath spilled into the air, but considering the source, they doubtless had to do with desire and destroyed inhibition, the kind of enchantment that made a night out more thrilling and more dangerous.

Programmed lighting cast ethereal shapes on the walls and floor. They moved quickly but if you managed to catch one in full focus you’d find yourself gazing at something demonic rather than angelic. The lights also created an abundance of shadows that chased each other through the space, often moving as if they, too, were dancers. It would have been mesmerizing if not for the fact that any kind of embodied shadow set Guardians on edge. The presence of wraiths in the rafters, serving as an extra level of security for the Keepers in attendance, didn’t help matters.

Pushing away from the railing, I shook my arms out, trying to rid myself of nerves that had nothing to do with shadows, succubus spells, or wraiths. I was antsy. God, I hated feeling antsy. It ran counter to my practiced stoicism. That was the problem—one of the problems—with being in a secret relationship. You rarely caught a moment’s peace.

Mason and I had been together for almost a year, but we’d never had a public encounter like this. Up until yesterday, we’d ignored each other or treated each other with disdain for the benefit of our packmates and our masters. Now the Banes and Nightshades were trying on an alliance for size. I didn’t know if we’d find a perfect fit, but the attempt meant I no longer had to act like my boyfriend was a pariah.

I honestly didn’t know how to handle it. What was the sweet spot between friendliness and too much interest? Mason’s pull was so strong, I worried I’d give myself away the moment I laid eyes on him. Lunch at school had been challenge enough. Whenever he was close, I had to fight not to touch him. I’d never thought of myself as possessive, but Mason brought out every instinct a wolf has for its mate. I was still reconciling the force of those feelings with the rules of Guardian life. It was much easier to behave when Mason stayed at a distance. Those days were over and I was going to have to adjust. Somehow.

As I made my way to the bar, I glanced at my phone. His message from half an hour earlier said they were on their way, which meant the Nightshades would be here any minute.

Caleb lifted his chin as I approached. I mostly saw him at the Burnout and the Bunker, but that was on Caleb’s personal time. His official job was bartending in Eden’s VIP section and at all of Efron’s private parties. He’d been handpicked by our master for the role thanks to his natural charisma and the fact that he could easily be mistaken for a model.

“You look like you’re ready to crawl out of your skin,” he remarked.

“Don’t you have cocktails to mix?” I replied, irked that his comment struck the bull’s eye.

“Always.” Caleb toasted me with a silver cocktail shaker.

“I take it the rumors are true,” he continued, as he shook the mixed drink with ice. “The young Guardians have struck a peace deal.”

“Something like that.”

“It’s almost time for the union.” Caleb strained the cocktail into a glass, added garnishes, and set it on a waiting tray. “Your alphas must be excited to get things rolling.”

I nodded. “Tonight was their idea.”

Caleb started measuring shots and mixers for another cocktail. “And we’re not happy about this development?”

“As far as the packs are concerned, it’s the right call,” I told him. “But it makes my situation more complicated.”

He regarded me for a moment. “I could see that. Are you okay?”

The concern in his gaze made my chest tighten.

“I will be.”

His eyebrows lifted.

“I will be,” I said again.

He leaned in, wearing a sly smile. “I hope so, because the future is now.”

I was about to ask what he meant when I caught Mason’s scent of sun-warmed clover amid the miasma of odors suffusing the club.

In the next moment, I heard him call, “Hey, man.”

Centering myself for what I knew would be a trying interaction, I turned and smiled warily.

Damn it, Mason.

It wasn’t as if I thought he wouldn’t look good. The sight of him never failed to set my blood on fire. Tonight he’d played a riff on his usual ensemble of a button-down and vest. Instead of a long sleeve button-down shirt he’d donned a distressed tee that skimmed his torso, and dark jeans. He still wore a vest, but his choice for the club was black suede in a tighter fit that was practically molded to him. Every piece perfectly framed and enhanced the contours of his body. It was a struggle to look away from him, but I had to.