Page 30 of Coveted

Altars are for worship, but also sacrifice.

My stomach twists tighter.

“Should I inform Mr. Hale that you declined the invitation?” he asks.

“No.” My voice is surprisingly firm.

The thought of Lucan sneering at my cowardice is too much.

Screw him, I’m going inside.

I want answers.

Shoring up my courage, I step into the parlor. The bouncer closes me in at once.

The muted room is full of shadows. The scent of top-shelf liquor and cigar smoke tinges the air. Privacy curtains hang between alcoves of tables with seats.

The walls of the alcoves are mirrored, which is unnerving. It reminds me of a carnival funhouse, except I’m not having fun.

My eyes land on my host.

Lucan is a silhouette against the back wall. His large body relaxes on a seat in an alcove like he’s at home. He swirls a glass of amber liquid slowly while examining me from across the room. His gaze glances off my skin, cold and searing all at once.

My face stares at me from the mirror over his head. Though I’m nervous as hell, the look I’m giving him is a mix of scorn and boredom. It boosts my confidence enough to walk over to him.

With every step, his eyes bore into me like he’s been anticipating this very moment.

He rises when I reach him. “Sadie. Good to see you.”

“Lucan. Wish I could say the same.”

“You declined the car.”

“Very perceptive,” I say.

He sits, gesturing next to him. “Come. Have a whiskey.”

The leather-bound cushioned seat sighs under my body weight. Keeping a wary distance, I put my bag behind me. I want my phone close, in case I need to call for help.

Lucan pours a second whiskey from the crystal decanter on the table before us. I feel like I’m in a very upscale, very empty nightclub. He hands me the glass, clinking his against mine.

“To corrupting the good girl,” he says.

I snort softly. “Is that what you think you’re doing?”

The corners of his mouth lift in a cruel smile. “I think this is the first night in months you haven’t spent alone with your notebook and novels.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Wasn’t a question.” Lucan drinks. “It was an observation.”

I suppress a shudder. The timbre of his voice connects with my skin almost as if he’s touching me.

“Been observing me a lot, have you?” I ask. “Been sending me things?”

His eyes flare dramatically, mocking me. “Someone’s been sending you things? How exciting.”

“Creepy,” I correct. “It’s creepy as fuck and so are you.”