Nightbloom

by Juliette Cross

  As if he sensed my presence, Paxon found me. Clayton ambled toward the bar while I stood frozen to the spot. My pulse sped up with nothing more than a look from the man, but an unwavering, intense, heated look will do that to a girl. I found Sorcha on a couch belting out her throaty laugh. Lifting my chin, I strode forward and pretended my knees weren’t shaking as he watched me cross the room to Sorcha.

  “Hey, girl!” she screamed, opening her arms for a hug.

  “Hey.”

  I squished in between her and the Morgon.

  “What happened to you? You look like your grandmother just died.”

  “Nothing.” I shook my head, forcing a fake smile and glancing at the pretty Morgon on my other side.

  “Oh, Willow, this is Ella Barrow. The pretty one who dates the prick I keep telling you about.”

  “Sorcha,” I said in my warning tone, though my heart just wasn’t in it.

  “Hi,” said Willow. “You want a drink?” She waved a buxom cocktail waitress over.

  The waitress trudged toward us, pasting a fake smile on her face. Man, did I know how that felt.

  “Hello. What can I get you?”

  “Hi, Deva.” Willow pointed at her glass. “I’d like another one of these. What is it again, Sorcha?”

  “Brevette on the rocks. I’d like one, too. Just water for my friend.”

  The waitress with dark-green wings snubbed her nose at me and prissed off.

  “What’s wrong with her?” I asked.

  Sorcha laughed. “Oh, that bitch hates me. I think she had a thing for Lorian before I came along, and she somehow thought she had a chance with him. As if.”

  Willow laughed, a pretty, tinkling sound. “She probably sensed you were his mate, and it pissed her off.”

  I raised a brow. “How do you mean she sensed Sorcha was Lorian’s mate?”

  Willow looked puzzled.

  Sorcha sighed. “I’ll explain it. My friend is a little uneducated about Morgon gifts.”

  Willow grinned. “So were you once.”

  She arched a brow seductively. “Not anymore. Ella, it’s just that Morgon men have some sort of sixth sense, something of the dragon in them that helps them find their one mate.”

  “But, how? I don’t understand.”

  “It’s the soulfire.” Willow sipped her drink, her eyes alight with wonder. “This is a mystery even for Morgon women. We don’t have this ability. Soulfire builds within the man as soon as he meets her or as soon as the dragon recognizes her as his own. It continues to grow stronger, burning in his core, until his mate accepts him so he can release the elixir into her.”

  I shifted in my seat to face Willow better. “And then the heartbinding.”

  She nodded with a smile.

  “And damn if it isn’t the hottest thing ever.” Sorcha winked. “Lorian’s already sex-on-a-stick. Soulfire just makes him downright unfair. I can’t ever resist him.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Ugh. Too much information. No need to brag about your amazing sex life.”

  “Can’t help it.”

  “Where’s Lorian tonight, anyway?”

  “Something work-related with his father. I wanted to check things out here and see if our place was still hopping.”

  “It’s still hopping.” Willow laughed, clinking her nearly empty glass to Sorcha’s.

  “Where’s Clayton?” asked Sorcha.

  “Oh, he’s over there.” I waved my hand.

  “Well, come on. Let’s join the men and have some real fun.”

  She linked her arm with mine, hauled me up, and led the way. With every step I took toward him, adrenaline pumped through my veins, my blood coursing faster. The group of men stirred at our approach, swiveling their attention in our direction.

  “Hey, Clayton.” Sorcha clapped him on the back. I knew she was being overly civil to him because she made me a promise to do so. At the moment, I couldn’t care less after the way he had treated me tonight.

  He turned and gave her one of his dimpled grins. “Hi, beautiful. You slumming with the singles tonight?”

  “Just checking on my baby, Spire Maiden. She seems to be doing just fine without me.”

  I listened to the interaction, my eyes on Sorcha.

  He was watching me. I finally braved a glance. A glass of amber liquor was poised at his lips. His black hair hooded deep, brown eyes. Yes. He watched me shamelessly, not bothering to look away, as if it were his right to look his fill, as if there were no one else here but us. Still in his business best, the top few buttons of his starched, silver shirt were undone, drawing my eye to the V of tan skin. I flinched when the waitress nudged me, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  She passed out our drinks, handing me a glass of water last. Clayton chuckled.

  “Water, Ella? You sure you don’t want something a little stronger. It might loosen you up.”

  To everyone else, it was a harmless joke, but I saw his face tighten, the ice in his eyes. The buxom waitress grinned before swishing off, as if she caught the dig at my expense. Clayton sauntered away, clapping Slade on the shoulder. Corbin wrangled Sorcha and Willow over for shots. But I didn’t move. I was left standing there.

  Alone.

  Looking at him.

  Unable to look anywhere else.

  He shoved off the bar, his wings pressed tight to his back, heading straight for me.

  “Good evening, Ella.”

  That velvety voice buckled my knees. I stood firm. “Hi, um. Hello.”

  “Would you like to dance?”

  “Dance? Well…” I scanned the room. No sign of Clayton.

  “It’s just a dance.” He held out a hand.

  “Right. Sure.” I put my hand in his.

  He wound past the lounge section around the corner. He pulled out his comm device and punched something in one-handed before sliding it back into his pants pocket. I thought we’d head downstairs, but he pulled me past the elevator to a nook with a few booths and a small dance floor. A more private dance floor.

  Just as we arrived, the fast-pumping song died, and a slow, haunting melody echoed around us. He pulled me into his arms, charming smile in place.

  “Did you do this?” I pointed toward the speakers.

  “Build this place? No. Wasn’t me. This is my cousin’s gig.”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. The music.”

  He chuckled and pulled me into a tighter embrace. With one hand on my waist, he held me close but not too close, swaying me gently. “I prefer slow songs.”

  “I bet you do,” I mumbled.

  His shoulder flexed under my fingers, making me more aware of his body, his strength. I slid my hand to his bicep, loving the sensation of his cotton-silk blend under my palms. I averted my gaze to nowhere in particular, pretending the feel of him had no effect on me.

  He spun me slowly to the easy beat. His hand slid to the small of my back. I remembered the last time he touched me there. My breath quickened.

  “Ella?”

  “Hmm?” Still not meeting his gaze.

  “Why are you with Clayton Kerrington?”

  That got my attention. “What?”

  “Why are you with him?”

  Was he serious? Do people really ask things like that?

  “He’s…he’s a good guy. Um, you know, he’s—”

  “He’s not a good guy.” The expression that hardened Paxon’s face made me shiver. “So what’s the real reason?”

  Anger flared in my gut. “Why are you asking me this? It’s kind of personal.”

  “I don’t think so. All I want to know is why you’re with someone like him.”

  I frowned. “What do you mean ‘someone like him’?”

  “He’s arrogant, selfish, and has no idea what he has in having you.”

  Blushing, I perked up my chin. “How do you know what he thinks?”

  “Because if
you were mine, I wouldn’t wander off and leave you unattended.”

  If I were his? Again, he insinuated he wanted me. The idea of being his girl, his woman, sent my nerves into overdrive.

  His hand on my back pressed me the slightest bit closer. My body responded, bending for him, wanting him. My eyes dropped to his lips.

  This was ridiculous. I wasn’t a cheater. The last kiss was a “prize.” Or at least, that’s what I had told myself. If I crossed that line now, I couldn’t forgive myself, and yet my control was slipping away.

  I broke free from his grasp. “I-I’m sorry. I need to—” I pointed back the way we came and rushed off as fast as I could. I walked clear past the bar and down the hallway to the bathroom. After splashing water on my cheeks, I stared at my reflection.

  What did he see?

  I saw the same blond-haired, blue-eyed girl who lived in a shell inside her own head. Pretty, yes. Docile, yes. Weak…yes. I tossed the paper towel in the trash and headed back out.

  Passing an Employees Only door, I heard feminine mewling and panting sounds. I walked on quickly but stopped when I heard a familiar voice. “You’re so fucking hot.”

  Blood rushed like ice through my veins. Heart pounding in my throat, I slowly stepped back to the door and eased it open. I froze.

  Topless and spread-eagle on a countertop was the cocktail waitress, Deva, her skirt hiked up to her hips. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust as Clayton, pants around his ankles, grunted and pounded into her. She made throaty cries as he pushed into her fast and rough.

  “That’s right, baby. Moan some more.”

  She did, pulling his head down to her breast where he licked her all over like he’d done to me earlier that night. I wanted to vomit.

  His voice ground out, “I’m coming, baby.”

  She gripped his hair in a tight hold, catching sight of me over his shoulder, opening her mouth in a loud moan as if he had hit just the right spot. Then she gave me a wink.

  Mortified, I shut the door and ran down the hall. I paused before I stepped back into the crowd, taking a deep breath to compose. Sorcha and Willow were at a table near the railing, overlooking the dance floor. I bee-lined straight for them and took a seat, anger thrumming through my whole body. Sorcha rambled on about God knows what.

  “You got that right. But you should totally date a human guy. You might like it.” Sorcha turned my way. Her brow scrunched into a frown. “Hey, what happened to you?” She snapped her fingers in front of my unfocused gaze. “Hello? Ella? Are you okay?”

  I couldn’t even form a word, thoughts speeding through my mind so fast my head was about to pop off. I trembled with rage. But my anger had nothing to do with Clayton. I didn’t even care that he was screwing that sleazy girl in the back room. I was furious at…at myself. I was furious that I’d wasted five months with this jerk, thinking myself lucky. Lucky? Ha!

  I glanced across the bar at Paxon, now back in his spot talking to Conn, who must’ve just arrived.

  Something bubbled out of me. Laughter. I threw my head back and laughed, not caring that it sounded a tad maniacal. This was a gift, a blessing. I was finally free, and there wasn’t enough charm in the world to make me forget what I just saw in the back room and change my mind.

  “Ella? Seriously. You’re scaring the shit out of me. Are you okay?”

  I met Sorcha’s round-eyed gaze, then took her glass of Brevette and gulped a huge swig.

  Her eyes widened further. “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

  I smiled, watching Clayton amble up to the group next to Corbin just as happy as can be, hair tousled, smug grin on his dumbass face. I wondered how many times he’d done this behind my back. I glanced from Clayton to Paxon. No comparison. Not in any possible way. Why was I such an idiot?

  I drank down the rest of Sorcha’s drink and slammed the glass on the table.

  “What in the hell are you doing, Ella?”

  “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.” I gave her hand a squeeze and slipped off the stool.

  As I crossed the room, Deva flitted past me, smirking with her shirt hanging off one shoulder. I rounded and stepped in front of her with my hand held out. She flinched as if I was going to hit her. I grabbed her hand and shook it.

  “Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” I was actually giddy with the sudden turn of events. Something that should’ve shattered my world only tore open the cage I’d put myself in. “You saved me from a lifetime of misery and shame.”

  Shocked, she just stood there as I strode off toward Clayton where he was hanging with Corbin to one side. Other patrons lined the bar, ordering drinks and chatting. Paxon sat on a stool angled out toward the room, watching my approach. I stopped in front of Clayton.

  “Hey, baby. You’re not ready to go yet, are you?”

  “No, baby. I’m not ready to go yet, and quite frankly, I’ll never be going anywhere with you ever again.”

  All conversations at the bar came to an abrupt halt. A Morgon’s sense of hearing was acute, and they were all tuned in to me. Clayton frowned.

  “What do you mean? Are you sick or something?”

  “No. I’m feeling better than ever. I think I’m actually feeling better than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. We’re through, Clayton Kerrington. I’m done with you.”

  Just as I spun around to my second destination, Clayton grabbed my arm.

  “What the hell is wrong with you, Ella?” He hissed low as if to control me. He’d done the same so many times before. But not anymore.

  I jerked my arm from his grasp, narrowing my eyes on him. “Don’t you ever touch me again. Don’t call me, don’t come to my house, don’t even look at me. You disgust me.”

  “Ella, what are you talking about? We’re going to—”

  I laughed. “Don’t even think about it. I wouldn’t saddle myself to you if you were the last man on this planet. If you’re feeling lonely, go fuck another waitress in the broom closet!”

  He winced. Someone ooohed. Somebody else laughed.

  Paxon hadn’t moved. His expression hadn’t changed. He took it all in with seeming nonchalance, but the heat in his eyes said otherwise. I walked right up to him, cupped his face with my hands, my body resting against his, and pulled his head down, strong jaw beneath my small fingers. His body went rigid, but he came with ease, lips parting for me. I touched my tongue to his and let the melting sensation I’d dreamed about for a week spread through my body. He met my eagerness, tasting me just as sweetly. Burning desire flamed. I pressed myself harder against his chest, my tongue probing deeper, a little sound of pleasure escaping me. His heat and mouth and hands were all I wanted, but one kiss would have to be enough. I pulled back, fixed on his eyes, dark and lovely and full of some other emotion. No man had ever looked at me that way.

  Conn choked on his drink next to us. Someone whistled. Corbin, I think. I didn’t care. I held Paxon’s gaze. He held mine. I smiled, and then walked off, leaving a number of stupefied faces in my wake. Including Clayton’s. But it was Sorcha’s laughter and voice that made me raise my head a little higher and sway my hips a little harder.

  “Woohoo! Bravo, Ella.”

  I heard her joyous laughter all the way to the elevator, making me smile all the more, feeling stronger than ever before.

  Chapter 5

  “Excuse me? It’s Kraven, right?”

  The hulking figure darkening the door nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Would you call me a cab, please?”

  I’d left my comm device in Clayton’s car. He could throw it away for all I cared. I’d get another one.

  Kraven pulled his out, glanced over my shoulder, and took a step away.

  “What—?”

  Someone grabbed me around the waist then swept me off the ground.

  “Eeeee!”

  “Pardon us, Kraven.” A velvet-and-honey voice.

  “Su
re thing.”

  Paxon stalked in long strides away from the doorway, holding me in his arms.

  “Paxon. You can put me down.”

  His face fell in full shadow from the streetlamp above us. “No. I can’t.” His wings flared open and took us vertical into the night. I buried my face into his neck, clinging to him.

  “Omigod, omigod, omigod. Please don’t drop me.”

  “I’d never drop you.”

  I wrapped my arms tighter around his neck and muffled into his shirt. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Somewhere we can talk. Undisturbed.”

  A cold winter wind billowed around us. I burrowed my face against his shoulder to avoid the blast. “How can you stand this cold all the time?”

  “It doesn’t affect us as much.”

  I peered up at him. A canvas of gray covered the sky, though faint moonlight shone through, silhouetting his strong profile. I examined the contours of his brow, jawline, his lips. I thought of those lips on mine, wanting him again in a fevered flash. “Don’t look at me like that, Ella.”

  “Like what?”

  We plummeted. I squealed and held on tight, my stomach flying into my throat. By the time he set me on the ground, I was breathless from a whirlwind of flight. He steadied me by my waist. I swallowed my laughter.

  “Something funny?”

  “I never—I mean, that was my first time flying.”

  “I should hope so. You don’t have any other Morgon boyfriends that I should know about, do you?”

  “Um. No.” I cleared my throat, a nervous tick of mine.

  “And how was your first time? Not too fast?”

  His voice had dropped, caressing over me in that intimate way of his. My heartbeat skittered.

  “Not too fast. It was…exciting.”

  I could just make out the crease of his smile as he held out his hand.

  “Come for a walk with me.”

  I put my hand in his, finally noticing where we were—the city park sculpture garden. “Oh, wow! I haven’t been here since college.”

  Tall, manicured hedges framed a maze of white marble sculptures. They looked like ghosts in the darkness.