Sinners & Starlight: Chapter Five
Cade arrives just in time—and everyone pays the price for crossing the line.
Cade struggled to open his eyes.
They shouldn’t feel so heavy. So impossible. He wasn’t…Shit.
Did he fall asleep?
No. Cade Devoy never did that. He would never fall asleep in his own nightclub, especially not when hosting one of those functions that required constant diligence to corral the bullfuckery fae orgies tended to create.
Sure enough, the real event was well underway by the time he was able to pry his eyelids open and blink back the blur. His private booth kept him at a safe distance from the writhing mass of moaning, sweating bodies, but he could still see them and they could see him.
“Welcome back,” purred the woman nestled in his arms.
He blinked at her. He expected to see his fiery artist but instead was met with someone completely different. “Who the fuck are you?”
She stretched her arm around him in a feigned yawn and batted her long, iridescent lashes at him. “Mariana, remember? Ryla said you requested me.”
He did. Just not for this. “Alright, get up.” He resisted the urge to throw her off despite the fact that her touch made him feel nauseous. He may have been ruthless, but he wasn’t an asshole. Not completely.
“What’s wrong?” Mariana straightened but didn’t bother to move out of the booth. Or out of his way. “Need me to grab you another drink?”
Cade peered at the empty glasses on the table. There were only two—one for him, and one for Elena.
He didn’t drink enough to feel this inebriated.
“Get out.” Now he did nudge her harder so she’d get the message. “Move.”
Mariana pouted but obeyed, even though she took her sweet time doing it. When she finally slid out of the way, he shoved past her and headed straight for the bar. Or at least he tried to.
The room went kind of…diagonal.
His mind scrambled for the most plausible explanation, which only worsened his balance. No one would dare spike his drink, of that much he was certain. To do so was not only wildly immature and stupid, it created an immediate death sentence for whoever came up with the idea. An even slower, more painful execution for the one who slipped the potion into his cocktail. Everyone knew this.
He blinked a few times. His sight kept blurring. Finally, he managed to slam his hands against the counter and braced himself before he tripped over one of the stools. “Water. Now.”
Someone thrust an ice cold can of water into his outstretched hand, opened and ready for him to chug. Which he did. Whatever this was, he needed to flush his system so he could go hunt down whoever did this to him.
“You don’t look so good.” The bartender peered at Cade. “You feeling okay?”
“No,” he croaked back. Chugged more water. Slammed the can down. “Who mixed my drink?”
The bartender paled at his glare and took a half-step back. “I did. Exactly as you ordered it.”
Cade trusted him. He’d been employed with the organization for years and never once gave anyone reason to doubt him for anything. And, like a wise person should, he valued his life. “Who gave you my order?”
“Ryla. A MoonBeam for you, and a Special Milky Way for the human.”
Fuck.
Cade sucked down the last of the water and pointed the empty can at him. “Grab her. Put her in lockdown. Tell Seka we’ll deal with her later, but she is not allowed to leave this building. Understood?”
He gave his boss one firm nod and quickly darted away to take care of it. No questions asked.
Cade ignored the outstretched arms and moaning pleas for him to join the orgy, focused instead on finding Elena. She was nowhere to be found, not in his booth nor among the writhing mass of hungry mouths and gyrating limbs. If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t care—but this was his nightclub and his responsibility. Elena Martín was supposed to be under his protection simply by association.
She was supposed to be in his arms, asleep or awake.
If you hadn’t left her before…
He shook off the nagging sense that this could have been prevented. No. He made the right call the first time, when he decided it was best for her safety—and his sanity—to keep her as far away from him and his life as possible. As humanly possible, so the phrase went.
Wasn’t this moment proof that he was right?
Vic met him at the top of the stairs. He’d never been one for Midsummer orgies, so he was still fully clothed and on duty. “She left,” he said before Cade could take the first step down to the lounge.
Several curses he hadn’t uttered in eons flew from his mouth before it snapped shut in a tight grimace.
“Grab your coat.” Cade glanced around the room for Seka, but his head began to spin again and focusing hurt more than giving up. He winced and motioned for Vic to follow him. “Let’s go.”
