Page 41 of Midnight Queen

Lor opens his mouth like he’s going to try and reason with me, but I silence him quickly with a warning look. I’ll deal with him later, after I’ve returned Quincey to the safety of my home.

“Quincey,” I grit out just loud enough to hopefully be heard over the music. I refuse to stand here and yell her name like another one of those men trying to get her attention. And I know I won’t need to; she’ll sense that I’m here soon enough. She’s always been in tune with me. The alcohol polluting her veins is just hindering that skill right now.

She dances offbeat for another minute before her spine snaps straight and her hands drop from where they were grasping Lucy’s hips.

Quincey spins around so fast, I prepare myself to catch her falling frame, but she’s steadier on her feet than I thought she’d be.

Powder-blue eyes pin me, and my chest aches when that bright smile is directed at me. There is no remorse for her actions or worry for my anger on her face. She simply looks elated to see me.

“You’re here,” she sighs happily, dropping down into a squat so we are eye level. Her hands reach out and cup my face. “You’re always finding me, aren’t you?”

I don’t care how angry she makes me, I will always come for her, but right now, I’m not in the mood for sentimental words. “Get off the bar. We’re going home, Quincey.”

If anyone else heard the seriousness of my tone, they’d follow my instruction for fear of their safety, but not Quincey. Her face hardens and the defiance shines in her eyes like blue flames. “I’m not done dancing.”

“Yes,” I grit out. “You are.”

Completely unfazed, she continues to test my patience. “I want to spend the night at Lucy’s apartment.”

The alcohol must be making her delusional if she thinks I’d allow her to sleep anywhere else but with me. “Not fucking happening. The only place you’re sleeping is next to me inmybed. Now get off the fucking bar so we may leave.”

Quincey’s lips pull back in a sneer. “No.”

“It seems you’ve forgotten how much I despise that word,Mon Soleil.Should I remind you what happens when I’m denied what I want?”

I don’t know what I expect her reaction to be, but her lips lifting in a sultry smirk and her gaze heating, isn’t it. “Yes. Why don’t you remind me, Mr. Laurent?” Hand still caressing my face, she leans in close so she can whisper in my ear. “If being taught a lesson is what it takes for you to touch me again, I’ll happily be your student.”

Quincey drags her eyes over my lips and leans in as if she’s going to kiss me right here in the middle of this club for anyone to see, causing me to stiffen under her touch. For centuries, I’ve worked tirelessly to keep my private life a secret because my fear was always that it would be used against me. Gideon is proof that my fear was justified.

Before her lips can touch mine, she pulls back and her face drops. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Her hand falls from my face and she stands to her full height on the bar once more. “If you can’t even kiss me like you used to, then you should go home alone, Silas. Come find me when you figure your shit out.”

I must really be failing if she truly believes I don’t want to kiss her—to touch her body and reclaim it as mine. I would do it right here on this dirty bar top if I felt it was safe. It’s clear she’s no longer burdening herself with worry for her own safety, but one of us has to. One of us must remain in control.

In a shockingly graceful move, she twirls back to Lucy who’s watching me with knowing eyes. I don’t know what Quincey has told her, but I know the human is privy to information she shouldn’t be, but that is the least of my worries right now.

Quincey’s hand reaches out for the bottle of tequila in Lucy’s hand, but before her fingertips can brush against the glass, I wrap my hand around her forearm and pull her off the bar.

She stumbles and tries to regain her balance, but it’s no use. Quincey falls from the bar with a startled yelp, but as always, I’m there to catch her. She falls over my shoulder with a harsh curse.

Before she can try to shimmy away, I wrap my arm around her bare thighs, locking her in place. When her legs begin to thrash and her hands beat on my lower back, I have flashbacks to one of our first encounters. She was desperate that night to get away from me because she was scared, but tonight she isn’t afraid. She’s angry and her colorful choice of swear words confirms that.

With a nod of my head toward Lucy, Lorcan understands my silent instruction and begins to help Quincey’s friend from the bar top.

Just like when I entered the club, the gathering of people on the dance floor create a path when I begin to carry an irate Quincey out of the establishment. Worried eyes linger on the blonde woman on my shoulder, but no one dares to try and stop me.

“Put me down!” Her fingernails are raking against my back through my shirt.

“If you’re going to tell me no like a petulant child, I’m going to treat you like one by carrying you out of this place since you refused to do so yourself.”

There’s an irritated growl before she shouts, “Silas!”

Outside of the building, Lucy and Lorcan both meet us on the crowded sidewalk of Bourbon Street. As if she’s flipped a switch, Lucy appears completely sober, making me think she hasn’t been drinking as much as she wants Quincey to believe.

“I’m taking Quincey home,” I inform Lorcan. “Please ensure that Miss Bell here is returned safely to her apartment.”

“Put me down. I want to go home with Lucy!”

“More babysitting duty.Yay.” Lorcan lifts his hands and mockingly waves them in excitement.

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