speaking with their bodies more than their mouths. In one corner, a couple made out, while the crowd milled around them. No surprise. This was a pick-up and take-home place, not a quiet pub for bonding with friends.
Funny that the club didn’t seem to fit Mikal. Right after we broke up, he opened Paramour with all of its glittering lights and fast, hard music, attracting fast, hard clientele. There was a need on this end of town, so his gamble paid off, and apparently, was still paying off. All the same, it still didn’t match Mikal’s personality. I knew he longed for something quieter, but then again, maybe he needed the distraction of loud music and bright lights. Did he take the glitzy-club route as some sort of rebellion because I’d broken up with him? He knew I wasn’t a fan of this sort of place. Not my thing.
I hadn’t been here since the opening premiere but knew where Mikal would be. Peering up to the second floor, I glimpsed Mikal in his VIP section. I tapped Kol’s arm and gestured toward the second floor. He nodded. Kol’s chest brushed my shoulders as we funneled through the crowd to the stairwell. His hand was at my lower back, guiding me forward. In a Morgon club, he could fly straight up to the next floor. But not here. Though dark, we still attracted a few stares. One girl yipped and spilled her drink down her low-cut dress.
On the second floor, I bee-lined for the white sofa that extended in a perfect square near the balcony. Mikal leaned toward a pretty brunette in a red dress, his sandy-blond hair falling forward, his warm smile charming the girl into a trance-like stupor. As if he sensed me, he glanced up, the easy smile slipping. I caught the twinge of pain in his eyes before he masked it. He stood to greet us and wrapped me in an embrace, brushing a light kiss on my cheek. “This is a surprise.”
I smiled as best I could. “How are you?”
“Good.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “You?”
“Good.” I nodded.
And so here we were again, stuck in nondescript, awkward dialogue. I’d tried to engage him a few times when he was out somewhere with my brother. It was always the same—polite isolation from anything real or important. I hated that we couldn’t get past our past.
His gaze flicked over my shoulder.
“Mikal, this is Kol Moonring.”
Mikal offered his hand to shake in a civil gesture, but I caught the strain on his face. Kol’s broad, long-fingered hand, with scars along the knuckles, engulfed Mikal’s well-manicured one. Mikal was clear summer and warm sunshine whereas Kol was stormy winter and biting wind.
“We’re actually here on business. Kol and I are investigating the murder of Maxine Mendale.”
Mikal’s face tightened. “Why would you possibly be investigating that? For that damn paper, I imagine,” he muttered the last few words. “You should leave it alone.”
His tone of censure and disapproval instantly made my blood rise. “Kol. Would you excuse us for a second?”
He dipped his chin, his stony expression never changing. I walked to the corner, knowing Mikal would follow, taking deep breaths before I lost my temper. “I understand that you’re concerned for me, but there’s really no need.”
“You always said that.” Mikal took hold of my forearm. “You don’t know what’s happening to these girls, what happened to Maxine.”
The deep concern in his eyes softened my anger. “I know everything that’s happened. Kol is leading the investigation for the Morgon Guard.”
He crossed his arms. “So I see you’re well-protected.”
“I know you don’t understand my need to write for that ‘damn paper,’ as you call it, but you shouldn’t concern yourself for me. Actually, you have no right to.”
I regretted the last part as soon as it spilled out of my mouth, but I couldn’t help it. Mikal was still clinging to the idea that we might one day mend our relationship and find our happily-ever-after. It would never happen.
Funny that the club didn’t seem to fit Mikal. Right after we broke up, he opened Paramour with all of its glittering lights and fast, hard music, attracting fast, hard clientele. There was a need on this end of town, so his gamble paid off, and apparently, was still paying off. All the same, it still didn’t match Mikal’s personality. I knew he longed for something quieter, but then again, maybe he needed the distraction of loud music and bright lights. Did he take the glitzy-club route as some sort of rebellion because I’d broken up with him? He knew I wasn’t a fan of this sort of place. Not my thing.
I hadn’t been here since the opening premiere but knew where Mikal would be. Peering up to the second floor, I glimpsed Mikal in his VIP section. I tapped Kol’s arm and gestured toward the second floor. He nodded. Kol’s chest brushed my shoulders as we funneled through the crowd to the stairwell. His hand was at my lower back, guiding me forward. In a Morgon club, he could fly straight up to the next floor. But not here. Though dark, we still attracted a few stares. One girl yipped and spilled her drink down her low-cut dress.
On the second floor, I bee-lined for the white sofa that extended in a perfect square near the balcony. Mikal leaned toward a pretty brunette in a red dress, his sandy-blond hair falling forward, his warm smile charming the girl into a trance-like stupor. As if he sensed me, he glanced up, the easy smile slipping. I caught the twinge of pain in his eyes before he masked it. He stood to greet us and wrapped me in an embrace, brushing a light kiss on my cheek. “This is a surprise.”
I smiled as best I could. “How are you?”
“Good.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “You?”
“Good.” I nodded.
And so here we were again, stuck in nondescript, awkward dialogue. I’d tried to engage him a few times when he was out somewhere with my brother. It was always the same—polite isolation from anything real or important. I hated that we couldn’t get past our past.
His gaze flicked over my shoulder.
“Mikal, this is Kol Moonring.”
Mikal offered his hand to shake in a civil gesture, but I caught the strain on his face. Kol’s broad, long-fingered hand, with scars along the knuckles, engulfed Mikal’s well-manicured one. Mikal was clear summer and warm sunshine whereas Kol was stormy winter and biting wind.
“We’re actually here on business. Kol and I are investigating the murder of Maxine Mendale.”
Mikal’s face tightened. “Why would you possibly be investigating that? For that damn paper, I imagine,” he muttered the last few words. “You should leave it alone.”
His tone of censure and disapproval instantly made my blood rise. “Kol. Would you excuse us for a second?”
He dipped his chin, his stony expression never changing. I walked to the corner, knowing Mikal would follow, taking deep breaths before I lost my temper. “I understand that you’re concerned for me, but there’s really no need.”
“You always said that.” Mikal took hold of my forearm. “You don’t know what’s happening to these girls, what happened to Maxine.”
The deep concern in his eyes softened my anger. “I know everything that’s happened. Kol is leading the investigation for the Morgon Guard.”
He crossed his arms. “So I see you’re well-protected.”
“I know you don’t understand my need to write for that ‘damn paper,’ as you call it, but you shouldn’t concern yourself for me. Actually, you have no right to.”
I regretted the last part as soon as it spilled out of my mouth, but I couldn’t help it. Mikal was still clinging to the idea that we might one day mend our relationship and find our happily-ever-after. It would never happen.
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