Ebony Rising (The Raven Queen's Harem 2) - Page 24
“Shut up,” I tell her, knowing it’s the wrong thing to do. My brain knows this. My body—
“What?” Xavier says.
“Nothing.” I reach for him but jump when the door slams against the alley wall and a massive hand drags Xavier off of me.
“It’s time to go home,” Clinton says to the other man. Xavier looks miniscule next to him. Clinton’s steel gray eyes rake down my body—assessing me for injury.
“Hey man, back the fuck off. This isn’t any of your business.”
A dark shadow crosses Clinton’s face. The Morrigan whimpers back into her shell. Morgan takes back over and I feel the heat of the rune on my chest fade. “Xavier.” I swallow. “You should probably go.”
“What?” He looks between us. “You’re the cellist? You’re leaving me for a musician? Fucking tease.”
Clinton makes a move but I step forward, pushing him back. I grab Xavier by the chin, my nails digging into his skin. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
“What? I can’t call you a tease? Please. You wanted it.”
“Maybe I did, but I don’t anymore.” I release my grip, which I can tell he notices is stronger than expected. “Just go.”
“Whatever,” he stays, stepping back. He rubs the spot on his chin where I touched him. A fiery red mark remains. “You’re not worth it.”
Clinton holds the door for him and slams it once Xavier steps back into the bar. I straighten my skirt and say, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
Without speaking, he walks me out front and waves down a cab. One appears immediately and he swings open the door, letting me in. From the street he tells the cabbie our address. I realize then that he’s staying behind.
“You’re not coming?”
He shakes his head with a small jerk, the knot in the back of his jaw twitching.
He slams the door and walks away.
Chapter 19
Clinton
From the doorway of the club I watch the cab drive off. It took every ounce of strength not to get in the backseat with her. Morgan was scared and confused. I was aroused and about to take her in public.
That wasn’t how this night should end.
In fact, none of it should have happened in the first place. How she ended up here? In this club, listening to my music? It can’t be a coincidence and I enter the building to find some answers.
The crowd is still in full swing, the tables near the stage having been cleared for a dance floor. My act was planned to be short—it’s up to the artists’ discretion how long they want to perform. The simple fact I’m creating the music—me, a guardian—means magic is involved. It’s volatile and with the right trigger, explosive.
There’s no doubt Morgan was the perfect trigger.
I push through the crowd, towering over most of the other men. Many look up and recognize me from the stage. I don’t stop, hoping to catch up with the two that brought Morgan here.
I spot the red slinky dress of Morgan’s friend and the male with her. I can only assume they’re related. The guy notices me before I get to the table and he holds up his hands. “Listen man, I don’t want any problems. Okay? Misunderstanding. The girl said stop and I stopped.”
“What did you do?” Anita asks suspiciously.
Xavier coughs. “Nothing. We just had a moment. Then this guy broke it up. No big deal.”
“Where is she now?” she asks.
“She left,” I say. “How did you know to bring her here?”
“Know?” the girl asks. “I just lucked into some tickets. Thought it would be a fun night out.”
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