Page 87 of Hero of Havoc

Gulping, I do the same, and as I take a deep breath, he runs his thumb over the engravings on the compass, and the scenery around us changes in the blink of an eye.

Gone is the lush green grass, the dancing wildflowers, and the oak trees casting the ground in shade, and in their place comes the thick scent of cigar smoke, mahogany furniture, deep-black walls, and an air of misogyny.

My spine tingles as I take in my surroundings, noting the shadowed corner we’re tucked away in, and I silently appreciate it as I cast my gaze over the rest of the room. It’s hard with the thick smoke lingering in the air, but it only paints the picture more accurately.

Dark-brown leather Chesterfield sofas are scattered throughout, broken up with dark, circular tables and deep-green cushioned chairs. There’s barely an empty seat in the house. The soft jazz music makes my heart ache, but I keep my opinions to myself as I clear my throat.

“What now?”

Baron’s hand finds mine, squeezing tight as Archer counts down.

“Three… Two… One…”

“My son does linger too long.”

My muscles clench at the familiar sound of Archer’s father, as the smoke seems to shift strategically through the air, offering a clear view of the man in question. He sits perched on the arm of a sofa against the far wall, men leaning in close to him, hanging off his every word.

He’s dressed for the occasion, but instead of the simple, yet effective, black on black like my hated mates, he pairs his black shirt with a deep-plum suit. The rings on his fingers glisten under the muted light as a sneer curls the corner of his mouth, and I feel completely out of my element.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Archer states, taking measured steps toward his father as I remain with the others in the corner.

Glancing up at Baron, in search of an answer, I come up short when he subtly shakes his head.

“You’re late,” his father states, and Archer dips his head.

“My apologies.”

“You know the rules out there. I expect a strong, dominant presence tonight. Don’t let me down; you won’t like the consequences,” he promises, and I gulp, gripping Baron’s hand tighter as my magic thrums haphazardly through my veins.

The last time I saw him, I couldn’t control my magic, self-combusted, and needed grounding by my hated mates. Even as I stand here now, time having passed, I can feel that same fury burning through me, ready to take action.

I feel like a ticking time bomb.

We need to move.

Thankfully, Archer nods to his father, taking three backward steps before he turns on the spot, offering the devil his back as he strides toward us.

“Let’s go,” Sax breathes, nudging us toward the door on our right, when wicked eyes find mine across the room.

“Miss Hayworth, it’s a pleasure,” Archer’s father rasps, and I gulp.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to confirm that I can’t say the same, but the way Baron squeezes my hand as he subtly shakes his head again confirms I need to keep my mouth shut.

“Hayworth? Not The Angel?” A guy startles, rising to his feet on the other side of Archer’s father, and I gape in surprise.

I recognize him immediately. Not by name, but he frequented my father’s cigar nights enough times for his face to be familiar. It’s distracting enough to make my anger falter, and I suck in a deep breath.

I don’t care about aggravating a monster; I’ve come across enough of them already, but I don’t want to cause any further issues. I will forever be cautious after watching Archer writhe in pain at his father’s hands, and I’d rather avoid seeing it happen again.

As my feet carry me out of the room, my mind lingers, a thought casting over me, and when the door clicks shut behind us, I pay no mind to the noise around me as my gaze lands on Archer’s.

“When your father…” I start, waving my hand, unable to find the words, and he thankfully nods. “Is that what it was like when you saw my father…” My words drift off, unable to complete a single sentence in either direction, and he grimaces.

“Close, but not quite,” he mumbles as I run my tongue over my bottom lip, finally turning my attention to the room.

My eyes widen immediately. A moment ago, I felt like I was in a similar environment to my father’s controlled, intimate parties, but none of those happened on the other side of the door to an entire casino.

Uncertainty wars inside of me as I blink at Archer, confusion getting the better of me as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and takes a step forward. He oozes confidence, power, and… corruption.