Now that we’re outside, the night air bites against my skin. It’s not freezing, but compared to the warmth of the casino, it’s definitely cold enough to make me regret this dress. Well, maybe not regret it. But I’m ready to go home. Lukas still has an arm around my shoulder, but I don’t move away. Nope. Absolutely not. Instead, I shamelessly steal his body heat like some kind of human leech, pressing closer under his arm. He doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, he pulls me even tighter into his side, like he expected me to do it.
“This dress is not weather appropriate.” I grumble.
“Or comfort appropriate. Or any kind of appropriate, really.” I complain. Lukas lets out a quiet chuckle.
“Do you need my jacket?” He offers. I glance up at him, and for a second, I’m tempted. His jacket would definitely be warmer than what I’m wearing. But then I shake my head, smiling gratefully.
“Nah, I’ll be fine. You called for a ride already, yeah?” I ask. He nods.
“Yep. Should be here in the next couple of minutes.” He confirms.
“Great!” I sigh happily, already picturing my bed… My pyjamas. If only we didn’t have to wait for a ride. That reminds me, why haven’t we picked up Lukas’s car yet? It’s been sitting where we left it for days, but we keep getting distracted or too exhausted to bother. Maybe tomorrow, I think vaguely, already knowing we’ll probably get sidetracked again. Damn it. We stand outside, just far enough from the doors to avoid looking awkward, and wait. A sleek, expensive looking car pulls up to the curb. It’s obviously not for us. But something about it catches my attention. At the entrance, the bouncer subtly straightens, his posture shifting ever so slightly, as if he just instinctively snapped to attention. My eyes narrow.
*Hey, let’s move into the shadows a little more.* I prompt. Lukas doesn’t even question it. He just subtly adjusts, leading us deeper into the dimly lit edges of the lot, away from direct view. Hidden in the darkness, I peek toward the fancy car, my instincts buzzing. A few people rush out of the casino, moving quickly, too quickly… And one of them is her. The woman from the high roller’s table. The one who winked at me earlier. She strides toward the waiting car with a sense of urgency, her confident exterior just barely masking something else, something tense, something alert. Then, the car door swings open, and a man steps out. I study him immediately, expecting someone imposing. Someone physically intimidating. But he’s… Not… He’s not particularly large. Not particularly threatening at a glance. But he carries himself in a way that makes it painfully clear that size has nothing to do with power. Even from a distance, I can feel the weight of his presence. He looks to be in his forties, maybe slightly older. Dark brown hair, streaked subtly with gray. A sharp suit, tailored to perfection. He’s clean cut, put together, and… Honestly? For a man so much older than me, he’s pretty damn attractive. But that’s not what makes my stomach tighten. No, what gets me is the way everyone reacts to him. The way the high roller woman slows her steps just slightly before she reaches him, like some instinctual hesitation before stepping too close. The way the bouncer is watching from the door, stiff, eyes locked on the interaction. I don’t need to read minds to know what I’m looking at. They’re scared of him. Not respectful. Not cautious. Scared. And yet… The man smiles. A slow, charming, easy smile, like he’s greeting an old friend rather than stepping into an atmosphere so thick with tension I could cut it with a knife. When he speaks, his voice is warm, friendly, too warm. Too friendly. It doesn’t match the fear he commands. It doesn’t match the way everyone holds themselves in his presence. Everything about him is… Off. And that makes him more suspicious than anyone I’ve seen all night.
“Solem.” The woman greets him with a level of formality that doesn’t match his warm greeting. Well. That explains it. This guy is the demon we’ve been dealing with. I stare at him, absorbing the realisation. He’s… Not what I expected. I had pictured someone more like Torin, larger, more physically imposing, the kind of person who could scare someone senseless just by standing too close. But Solem? He’s almost the opposite. He’s smaller, more refined, perfectly put together. And, annoyingly, he’s charming. Does that mean Torin’s intimidating presence isn’t actually because he’s a demon? That it’s just… Him? No wonder the guy has trouble making friends. He’s got way too many built in reasons for people to be afraid of him. Note to self: make more of an effort to befriend Laura’s terrifying boss. If Lukas says he’s a good guy, I might as well. But Solem? Yeah. No. I shift my focus back to the demon standing near the car, studying him. From this distance, I can’t quite make out everything he’s saying, but I can see the way he speaks. The casual confidence, the warmth in his tone, his entire presence is calculated. And now, I get it. I see how he tricks people into making deals. I see why Wren would have trusted him, why, in a moment of desperation, he would have turned to this man for help. Because Solem doesn’t look like a monster. He feels reliable. Safe. Like someone you could count on when you have nowhere else to go. And that pisses me off. I think I’d rather deal with someone who’s an honest jerk than a charming liar. I want, need, to hear more of this conversation. Every instinct in me screams to move closer, just a few more steps into the shadows, close enough to catch more of his words. But there’s no way to do that without risking being seen. So I stay put. Frustrated. Seething. Holding my breath so even that doesn’t drown out his voice. I can’t make out the entire conversation, but I can tell one thing for certain. He’s looking for something. Or someone. Damn it… Probably Wren. A fresh wave of anxiety rushes through me. Now I really need to know more. And then… Lukas moves. His arm slips from around my shoulders, and the sudden blast of cold air makes me shiver. Then he takes a step forward. And another. My stomach drops. It takes me half a second to realise what’s happening. He’s actually considering approaching him. Oh, hell no. I don’t think, I react. I grab Lukas’s arm and yank him back with every ounce of strength I have. He stumbles, completely unprepared, and topples into me. We crash into the wall, a tangle of limbs and poor decision making. (His decisions, I still totally stand by mine.) I barely hold back a yelp as I get slightly crushed under his weight, but I do not let go. I cling to his arm, tightening my grip like my life depends on it.
*What the HELL are you doing?!* I scream at him mentally, my words practically vibrating with panic.
*Don’t you DARE go anywhere NEAR him! Whatever you’re trying to do, it is NOT worth the risk!* I insist. I wish I could say it out loud. Mentally yelling at him just isn’t satisfying enough. But with Solem still way too close, I have no choice. Lukas lets out a soft sigh. He doesn’t fight me. He doesn’t argue. He just… Stays put. Good. The look he gives me might be meant as an apology. Might. But it’s not good enough. Not even close. I’m absolutely going to yell at him when we get home. And then? Then he’s going to apologise. For being such a dumbass and scaring the hell out of me.