Page 10 of The Arbiter

My liege? What the fuck?

“Wait…what? Come again?” I practically stutter.

Dahlia and Jamie fall into a fit of giggles at my shocked expression, both of them holding their bellies and leaning into each other as the other dancers step around us to head toward the bar.

“He’s the Strige ruler, Nocturna. One of the Infernal,” Jamie finally answers after getting herself under control.

“And he’s a damn fine liege, if you ask me,” she continues. “I had no idea that Liege Monroe was so fucking sexy. You’re a damn lucky B if he was giving you the glowy eyes. I’d give my left tit for him to look at me like that.”

It’s at this point that my brain is finally catching up to speed. “WHAT? You’re telling me that I just danced half-naked in front of the Strige Liege of the Infernal?”

“Why do I feel like we’re on repeat?” Jamie asks, looking pointedly at me.

“Shit!” I yell, startling her so badly she jumps a foot off the floor. Throwing up my hands in exasperation, I head straight to the bar. That issonot how I wanted my first impression with the Infernal to go.

The bartender smartly moves out of my way as I toss as much alcohol as I can manage into a cup of ice. I don’t stop until I have a Long Island Iced Tea sitting in front of me that the Creator himself would gaze at in awe. Without flinching, I sit and start chugging it down in big gulps.

“Ok, I think she’s broken,” Lena, my Lupin dancer, says as all the girls look at me like I’ve lost my mind.

Jamie quickly grabs the glass from my hand, spilling some of it down my chin and neck in the process. I sputter, trying not to choke, and flash my eyes at her in warning.

She opens her mouth to say something, but a voice that sends chills across my skin cuts in instead. “Some things never change.”

I don’t need to even turn around to know who that is.

Without hesitation, I bite out, “You've got some balls waltzing back in here like you own the fucking place." I pivot in my seat, facing down the only Damned that has ever brought me to my knees.

Enoch, the fun sucking, traitorous maggot that he is, sits down at the bar stool across from me, smirking like he didn't betray the pants off me. Quite literally.

He holds his hands palms up in surrender. "Can we be civil for a few minutes? I just came to talk, Nocturna."

It’s been almost a hundred years since I saw him last, and that isn’t a bad thing.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t changed in the least little bit. A solid six-foot-five wall of sexy. His dark hair cut short and styled flawlessly. The deep tan skin of his chest peeks through a crisp, white button-up shirt under a charcoal gray suit. There’s a red handkerchief folded neatly in the pocket of his jacket, and he’s even got the expensive leather shoes to match. He has a round, masculine nose that fits his face perfectly and a slender jawline covered in a clean-cut beard. Topaz eyes, smooth as desert sand, meet mine as a snarky grin passes over his face. There is nothing in this world that would make me happier than punching it right off.

A supremely unladylike snort leaves me. "You don't have the right qualifications to meet that simple demand."

There's a tic that starts in his jaw. I've known him long enough to recognize that sign of anger. "This place is neutral, love. I'm not leaving until you talk to me."

"It's still my establishment," I growl. Frustrated with myself for letting him get a rise out of me, I turn my back to him.

"As I said, I'm not leaving," he threatens as I continue to ignore him.

Grinding my teeth together to keep from saying anything, I stand and turn on my heel, heading toward the storage room.

How fucking infuriating that Damned can be.Who does he think he is, coming here tonight after everything he did to me?

"Thinking of me, amare?" his honey thick voice says from the door.

My fingers close around the neck of a bottle of Jack, and I whirl around, chucking it at his head. "You don't have the right to call me that anymore!"

The bottle shatters against the wall, peppering him with glass shards and the dark drops of Jack. His slim finger catches a droplet running down his cheek before moving it to his mouth to lick it off. "Well, that was a perfect waste of a good bottle of liquor."

I can't figure out if I'm angrier with him or myself for getting caught up in watching him when he did that. "I've got thirty more where that came from," I snark back.Him. Definitely him.

One side of his lips turn up. "Come now, love. No need to be nasty."

My hand reaches out for another bottle, and I feel more than see him move. Before I know what's happened, my fingers slip from the glass, and I hit the back wall hard enough to make the bottles on the shelf rattle. Enoch growls, I plead insanity for what happens next.

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