Page 35 of His Eternal Temptation

He shifted in his seat. Against his better judgment and all his usual safeguards, he admitted, “Sex is my main outlet.”

Lane nodded. “Surely we can find you some privacy. I could hang out in the hall and spell the room into silence.”

Rowan’s skin tingled hot with embarrassment, and he refused to find it pleasurable. He was not touched by Lane’s offer. It wasn’t sweet. There was no way in Hell he was asking one of his regular partners to play while Lane stood outside. “I don’t need that kind of relaxation. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.” Lane’s voice was stern, his expression daring Rowan to argue.

Rowan never liked being a brat, so he kept quiet.

“There must be something else that helps you switch off?” Lane tried.

Rowan enjoyed dancing. It brought him into a near euphoric state of dissociation. He loved performing for the right crowd, showing off on the pole, and knowing he was desired, but he’d never planned to tell Lane that his love of erotic dance was the reason he owned a strip club. It would be a mistake to share such a real piece of himself. He was sure of it.

What would Lane think?

Rowan was different on stage, and only select friends had the privilege of witnessing him unguarded. The crowds at the club didn’t count. Humans who saw Rowan as another in a line of dancers were safe. Rowan liked humans. He was heavily involved in the magic world, but staffing the club with unaware mortals was deliberate. It gave him space to be a person, not a vampire.

Maybe that was what he needed. Not a fuck. Not a dance. A break from this tangled magical mess.

“We could go to the club.”

“The strip club? Okay, yeah.” Lane sounded pleasantly surprised, which was promising. “I didn’t know it’d be open yet.”

“Don’t knock the dayshift,” Rowan said coolly.

“I wasn’t.” Lane held up his hands, adorably worried he’d caused offense.

“Good. The men’s stage won’t open until tonight, though.” Other than designated queer club nights where everyone danced on the downstairs stage, Arcadia operated as two separate clubs, and the men’s stage wasn’t open as often.

“No problem.” Lane frowned anyway, and Rowan wondered if he disliked the idea of seeing women perform. “I, um, don’t have any money.”

Ah, that could be a problem. “You lost your wallet along with your phone?”

Lane rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

“At least you aren’t the kind of guy who’d go to the club not planning to spend.” Rowan rose and opened a safe tucked behind his desk. “I’ll give you a loan.”

Lane laughed. “What’re the terms?”

Rowan’s lips twitched. He liked this. Fuck, whatever he was doing, he couldn’t seem to stop. “Putting up with me. No interest, and no need for repayment.”

Lane stepped closer. “I’m not putting up with anything. The curse isn’t ideal, but being around you isn’t so bad when you don’t think I’m a terrible liar.”

Rowan had no idea what to say. Lane didn’t mind his grouchy presence? Honestly? “Yesterday you were convinced I’d kill you.”

Lane shrugged, as if it were forgotten. “You didn’t want Caden killed, and Felix seems determined to save him even if it means looking after him.”

“Of course none of us want to kill Caden. We might have to look after him indefinitely if his feral side can’t be tamed, but that’s no reason to hurt him. Ferals are usually killed for mercy. Their condition deteriorates no matter how much blood they drink, and they die in mindless agony, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. Caden is a miracle, not a problem, but what’s it got to do with you?”

Lane gave him a look like he couldn’t believe he had to spell it out. “You and your coven are good people, Rowan. You do the right thing, and now you know I’m not an enemy, what’s there to be afraid of?”

All of the tension leaked out of Rowan, catching him off guard. He wasn’t screwing up everything after all.

You’re going to a strip club while your coven does all the work, you lazy shit, Cris’s unwelcome voice sneered in Rowan’s mind, and his muscles locked with a renewed vengeance.

To hide his sudden shame, he busied himself pulling money from the safe. He had to ignore these intrusive thoughts. Memories. Whatever they were, bringing long-dead opinions to life. But, in this case, the Cris in Rowan’s head wasn’t wrong. Rowan hated being told to relax when another feral vampire could be set loose to kill in his name at any moment.

They arrived at the club. Without windows, it was as dark as night, colorful lights flashing to the music. A group of men sat along the tip rail as a woman performed on stage. A few others hovered around, talking to more dancers. It was an okay showing for the time of day.