Sinners & Starlight: Chapter Eight
Elena moves into the enchanted penthouse suite—and a Great House with a grudge makes a move into Cade's personal business.
This is going to be fun.
The thought held more trepidation than the words themselves suggested.
Cade got out first, then walked around the vehicle to hold the door open for his wide-eyed guest, nodding once to his chauffeur to go ahead and take the car into the garage once she slid out and he shut the door behind her. He held his arm up for her to hold, which she did with a small frown of confusion. “It gets a little tricky,” he explained.
Which both of them knew wasn’t much of an explanation at all.
To any general passersby, and to anyone who might happen to stumble through the front doors of the building, the foyer opened up into a beautifully vintage lobby where modern technology glowed on marble desks carved from an era of Art Deco and yet, to Elena’s surprise and secret delight, echoed from the Commercial Style of Chicago’s 1890s. The slick tiles of the mosaic floor evoked the feeling of a chessboard without being too rigid or sharp-cornered, so much like other historic buildings she’d been inside and yet somehow unique on its own.
Cade nodded to the desk attendant, who inclined his head with a quiet, “Sir,” before returning to the computer screen. The attendant seemed to either not notice Elena, or he was wise enough to not poke his nose into other people’s business.
Which made sense.
Especially when Cade pulled out a silver skeleton key from his pocket, pushed it into the locked sliding gates blocking the elevator vestibule, and turned.
Something low rumbled within the walls as the mechanism sprang to life around the key. Dozens of spinning cogs interlocked with each other danced out of the lock and embedded into the metal framework of the gates in something that looked almost like a code Elena’s mind definitely tried and failed to decipher, according to the way her brows pinched together and her widened eyes scanned the pattern.
The gates unlatched, then slid open without any assistance.
And the moment the pair stepped into the vestibule, the elevators vanished.
Elena’s eyes bugged and she spun around. Gaped at the solid wall behind them. “Um…Cade?”
“I warned you. It gets tricky.”
The lobby they stepped into seemed identical to the previous one, except this time filled with plants she’d never seen before and sculptures of creatures she could only guess fell into the category of “otherworldly”. An alabaster satyr held a cornucopia of cascading blooms that fell into a bed of shimmering star lilies in shades that did not—or should not—exist. In the center of a trickling fountain, the serene likeness of a mermaid outstretched her arm for the water to flow into the sapphire pool.
Which, if Elena’s guess was correct, happened to be lined with actual sapphires.
The attendant behind this desk—on which there were no computers at all—stood as Cade approached, his focus squarely on the strange woman clutching the taller man’s arm. “G-good morning, Sir. We have a guest today?”
“No.” Cade pulled an envelope from inside his jacket and slid it across the counter. “New resident. She’ll need a key and security. Have Vic assign a contingency for today until we get the staffing arranged.”
“And her quarters?”
“Shared with mine. No need to make things complicated.”
The attendant’s mouth opened in surprise, but he quickly shut it before Cade’s frown deepened any further. Elena, for her part, was far too distracted by the gothic-sloped arched ceilings and chandeliers of actual crystals to catch what her companion had just quietly declared. It was only when the attendant cleared his throat that she noticed him, and the fact that he was waiting for her to put her hand in his. “I’ll need your blood, madame.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Your blood.” The attendant held up a skeleton key just like Cade’s. “For your key. It’s just a tiny prick, I assure you.”
Elena took a half step back. “Why?” She looked to Cade, then back at the waiting man. “Wait…is this some sort of blood magic? Brujo?”
“Oh for the love of…” Cade sighed and leaned against the high desk. “No, this is not ‘blood magic’ like what you’re thinking. And no, he is not a witch or warlock or sorcerer or whatever else you might be accusing him of, and neither am I. Those are forbidden here. He just needs to code your DNA into the metal so you, and only you, can get access to this building. Should you do something stupid like lose your key,” he added, his eyes narrowing.
“Excuse you? ‘Something stupid’? Like dragging me out of my home and forcing me to move in with you?”
Hot pink tinged the attendant’s cheekbones and he very suddenly had some paperwork to skim through in one of the ledgers that required his eyes and ears to shut out this conversation.
Cade bit back a very amused smile. “Just give the man your finger so we can let him get back to work. And then you can yell at me some more when we’re upstairs.”
“I wouldn’t be yelling at all if you weren’t always acting like you’re the boss of me!”
“But I am the boss of you. I hired you. You work for me. That’s kind of how this whole thing works.”
Elena rubbed the bridge of her nose with a long-suffering sigh. “Doing what? Painting?”
“I know you meant that facetiously, but yes. That’s exactly what I hired you for.”
One hard stare at him confirmed there was no point in arguing with him. The man was far too sure of himself and set in his ways for her attempted debate to be worth the wasted breath.
So, the only breath she did give him—loudly, so he could hear the irritation paired with reluctant surrender—was the heavy sigh as she held out her finger for the attendant.
The device and the somewhat painful prick reminded her of the onboarding process at the plasma donation center. A click, a chunk, a brief stab, and then he carefully squeezed the tip of her forefinger to collect a large drop of dark blood into the slender tip of an ampoule. “Here,” he muttered apologetically with a quick dab of a cold, damp cotton ball onto the puncture. “That should do it.”
It…did.
Elena held her fingertip up close to her face just to make sure she saw as much as felt what had just happened.
The blood, and the puncture, were gone.
Completely.
“I can feel a hundred more questions starting to bubble up,” Cade grumbled. “The answer is yes, and then no. Yes, you’re done and healed and we can keep moving along. No, I’m not going to spend any more time explaining how it all works.” He took the proffered key, now marked with Elena’s blood and gave the attendant a polite nod. Then pressed his hand to the small of her back and steered her toward the stairs.
To her great relief—which earned a smirk of amusement from his face when he noticed her shoulders relax—they only went up a single flight of winding stairs before he pressed a golden glowing button for the gated elevator. “For a second there, I thought we’d have to climb the whole way.”
Cade snorted. “As much as I love a little sadomasochism, I’m not that cruel.”
“What do you think?” He asked Elena as she shuffled inside the high-rise penthouse.
“I think you live in a palace.” She said it more like a factual statement than an exaggeration, head turning every which way to take it all in. “I kid you not, I used to think this place was a museum. From the outside, I mean.”
“It kind of is, considering everything in it.” He shrugged off his suit jacket and handed it to one of the staff who walked by. They didn’t do a great job hiding their curiosity over the young woman slowly spinning circles in the foyer. “Remind me to show you the library sometime.”
“Cade.” She paused and watched that same staff member quietly vanish into a door that similarly disappeared once they passed through. “I can’t stay here.”
“We already went over this.”
Elena shook her head. “No. I mean, this…this?” Her arms flew out to the sides. “I’m not from here. From this. I don’t belong in this world. I wouldn’t know what to do with a second fork or know when tea time is, or—”
“Relax, ælfscíene. This is temporary. After I take care of some business, you can go back to whatever hovel your heart desires.”
Relief slumped her posture. “Really?”
“No.”
He didn’t have time for this. He definitely did not have time to play host to a human who didn’t know just how royally fucked their situation could become if he didn’t play their cards exactly right.
It was one thing carrying her unconscious body to her apartment—Seka in tow—only to find Elena lived in what amounted to a cereal box with assemble-by-number furniture probably fished out of some flea market dumpster. Cade tried to be all judgmental about it, noting the lack of matching silverware in the kitchen drawers and the threadbare coverlet on her bed…but deep down, it outright bothered him.
She deserved better.
He wanted her to have better.
Which was easy enough to dismiss with a stern internal reminder of why he never let himself become seriously involved with human women. Or anyone, for that matter. After stepping into the outer hallway to let Seka take care of the clothing change, he decided that this would be the closure they both needed to move on.
Unfortunately, a whole new problem arose bright and early this morning in the form of a text from Vic to meet him in the study. Eric’s father and uncles, associates from Detroit, had arrived to politely but firmly demand an explanation as to why their son and heir wasn’t answering his phone.
They knew why.
Cade knew they knew why.
But they wanted to hear it from him before launching into actions that could stir up war between the families. So, he negotiated a deal to give himself enough time to provide them solid answers while tying up loose ends.
The biggest one being Elena Martín.
“There are a few house rules I need you to understand, and then I have to get back to work.” He pressed his hand to her back and ushered her through the foyer to the main drawing room, but didn’t stop to allow her time to admire all the details. “Consider this your tour.”
Elena nodded. Looked around. Kept her sugary mouth shut.
Good. I can work with this.
“My private rooms are upstairs and down the west wing. The left,” he added with a sigh at her confused expression. “West is left, east is right, just…if you need any help, ask anyone in a uniform. My private study is in that same section and off-limits to everyone. Including you.”
“Okay.”
He wasn’t sure if he liked how easily she accepted that, but he shrugged it off and continued. “The kitchen is back here; there’s a professional chef and cooking staff but you can help yourself at any time. If there’s anything you need, just let Heather know.”
“Who’s Heather?”
“Housekeeping. Head of, I mean.”
“Ah.”
“Down that hall is the main study, where I hold most of my meetings and conduct general business. You may enter only if you have a legitimate reason. I don’t like being disturbed.”
Again, Elena remained silent yet attentive. She nodded at his remarks, seemed to absorb the navigation, and didn’t flicker any sort of protest in her sweet face. Which felt…odd.
“Any questions?”
“Yeah.” She blinked up at him. “How much is this gonna cost me?”
Now Cade became the silent one, unsure of what the living hell she meant. “Come again?”
“All this. Private chef, housekeeping, I’m assuming there’s a personal trainer, too—”
“There is, but not for you.” The thought of another man resting a finger on her sweaty body instantly made his blood pressure spike.
“Right. Okay. Even so,” she scoffed, “there’s no way you’re letting me, or making me, stay here for free. It’s gotta cost something, right?”
His brain urged him to breeze through this with some half-assed explanation and get going.
His heart felt the sting of her implication.
Everything below his belt, however?
“What do you want to pay me with?” A lazy smile slowly spread across his face, and he felt himself lean into her personal space before he could stop himself. “I’m happy to negotiate.”
Fear ignited within her amber eyes. So did desire. Her plump lips parted and for a very powerful second Cade resisted the urge to suck that bottom lip between his teeth just to taste her again.
He’d already failed to resist that same temptation earlier. What kind of message would he be giving her if he kept giving in?
New episode previews are published here on Substack every week, and Paid Subscribers receive each installment in full as it’s released on Saturdays at 8pm CST.
If you enjoy reading along while the story unfolds, you’re welcome to subscribe for access to full episodes, published ebooks (i.e. Song of the Sidhe),
and the NEW Author Resource Vault
for only $5/month!
