Page 11 of The Arbiter

His mouth meets mine with a clash of lips and teeth. All common sense has left my brain the moment his soft lips touch mine, and I'm left firing on fumes. His thin white shirt offers no protection from my nails when I rake them across his shoulder blades hard enough to tear the material and draw blood. The scent spurs him on further. He quickly kneels to yank my pants down and off then lifts me by my hips. The sound of the fabric tearing fills the air as my underwear is ripped from my body before he stands, and his hand moves down to his own pants to lower them. All I can do is hang on as he pushes into me and fucks me against the storeroom wall where anyone can walk in on us. I manage to maintain enough dignity to not call his name as my orgasm hits me hard and fast, but there’s no hiding it from him as he tenses within me and lets out a roar of satisfaction.

Less than twenty seconds after, my feet are on the floor again, and his zipper is up. The thud of his boots resonates as he walks back to the door. He never stops as he looks over his shoulder and calls out, "Just like old times, hmm?”

At that, he shuts the door behind himself and leaves me so fucking angry that I could take on Cain himself.

I quickly right my top and start to pull on my pants. Unfortunately, I have to wrestle to get the leather up my sweat-coated legs, cursing a few times before they finally cooperate. Stuffing my tattered underwear into my back pocket, I run my fingers through my hair to smooth it down, and storm out of the storeroom. Jamie intercepts me halfway to stalking and murdering that asshole.

“Hey now, I don’t care if you’re my boss, the new Arbiter, or the Creator himself. You’re firstly my friend, and I’m not going to let you lose your mind right now. I’ve got Dahlia distracting Liege Monroe and the others on lookout for any other Infernal that decide to randomly pop in. Let’s go get you fixed up.” She gives me a once over, and her eyes widen, but lucky for her, she doesn’t mention what I know she can sense.

She drags me over to one of the spare rooms off to the side.Sometimes I forget that we even have these damn things.The doors are always blocked off by couches or covered with black curtains.

Her next words kill any hope I had of either getting black-out drunk or committing murder, “I don’t even want to know what just happened, or what’s going on in your head right now. All I know, is if you don’t pull your shit together, you’re going to hate yourself in the morning for letting yourself lose control.”

Fuck. When did my life get so complicated?

Laid across one of the soft back chairs is a more appropriate outfit for meeting a Liege of the Infernal. Jamie came through for me again. I shake my head clear of the bullshit and one arm hug her. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get crazy for a minute there. Thanks for reining it back in.”

Though after what Enoch just pulled, who could blame me for wanting to rip his nut sack off?

Hugging me back, she says, “Anytime. Now get your ass dressed, so you can officially meet the undeniable Liege Monroe.”

The desire for another drink kicks in as she walks out, and I think about what just happened in the storeroom. Enoch is a dick, yet I let him back in every time. If only the Creator knew about that flaw in my system, he never would have chosen me. I’m sure of it.

I try to unscramble my thoughts as I get dressed. The last thing I need is a head full of Enoch while meeting with an Infernal. Taking a moment to appreciate the kickass outfit Jamie picked out, I drag tearless, leather tight pants up my legs -- which actually cooperate this time -- and zip up my black combat boots. The black leather halter top fits me like a second skin and gives me a boost in the cleavage department. I have to wipe away some of my makeup beneath my eyes that was smudged after my little escapade with Enoch, but thankfully it’s mostly intact. By the time I have my curls pinned up and drag my ass out of the curtain, I feel more like myself.

Dahlia walks by and informs me in a quiet whisper that the Strige Liege and his second are waiting in the VIP section.That explains that second Strige that was tagging along with him.

My nerves are back as I make my way over to him, catching Felix’s eye as I walk by, and he gives me a smile for encouragement.

With my eyes trained on the back of the Strige’s head, I watch as he turns in my direction, no doubt hearing my boots. That wicked grin crosses his face as he stands and holds out a hand for me. During the thirty-second walk over here, all I could do is hope that my smart-ass mouth won’t get me in trouble with this guy. I’d hate to piss him off. However, it looks like my fears are unwarranted. His attitude gives off more of that laid-back kind of vibe.

I’m pleased when he doesn’t shake my hand but instead nestles it gently into his. Even more so when he lifts it to his lips and kisses my knuckles lightly, never taking his eyes from mine. Now that they aren’t glowing Strige red, I can see that they’re more of a warm, amber tone, with a burnt-orange hue flecked in some areas.

“It’s an honor to meet the new Arbiter,” he says with a deep Cajun French drawl.

If I wasn’t so scared of embarrassing myself, my knees would have probably given out at the sound.

“Liege Monroe, I’m sorry for making you wait,” I say in an almost whisper. It comes out sounding more scared than I thought I was feeling.

To my surprise, he throws back his head and laughs, which isn’t something I’m expecting at all. “Lady Arbiter, you don’t have to stick to formalities. Monroe is fine. After all, your power rivals mine now. It would be silly to use such titles when this is far from a formal meeting.”

He leans close enough for me to feel his breath across my face. “I hate titles, anyway.”

I’m so screwed, and I can’t say I’d deny the literal sense.

“Well then, you can just call me Nocturna,” I say, trying to distract myself.

“Merci, Nocturna,” he says. The sound of my name rolling off his tongue in that drawl makes me think of nothing but wicked thoughts, and when our eyes meet, I can see that he knows exactly what I’m thinking. He grins and removes his hold on my hand as he moves to the side, motioning to the other Strige behind him. “This is Raphael, my second.” The way he says it is less Ninja Turtle and more like ‘Ra-Feel.’

As if I’m not already having a hard-enough time containing myself with that accent. Add that to the smoky sound of his voice and the smooth, sultry way the words seem to roll off his tongue, and I can already say that I am insomuch trouble.

Raphael shakes my hand and takes his seat again while Monroe puts his hand at the small of my back and waves with his other hand for me to sit in my chair. His has strategically been put right next to mine, making me wonder if it was him or the girls who did it. I concentrate on making a good impression and try my best to ease down into the chair rather than flopping down like I normally do.

“We apologize for showing up unannounced,” he says, “but I wanted to meet you on my own before the other Infernal get here and start interrogating you. We were all surprised to hear of Cassia’s death, and even more so, that someone so young had been chosen to take her place.”

You and me both, hot stuff.

It’s unnerving how intense his stare is while he speaks, and it makes me ridiculously insecure. I avert my eyes and stare through the glass at the floor below. It’s filled with a sea of people dancing to “The Beautiful People”by Marilyn Manson. The room is mostly soundproof, but some of the music still filters up to us.

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