I let my eyes roll to the sky as I waited for his verdict, not that I really gave a shit what he thought of my outfit. I wore it for me, no one else.
“Beautiful.”
“Typical,” I tossed back and he growled low in his throat, the sound setting my skin on fire.
“You didn’t let me finish, Tate.” He dragged me closer still so I entered the cage his body made and his rich and spicy cologne called to me from his skin. “Beautiful would be an insult to you tonight. Hypnotising is closer. But enslaving is the closest.”
“If I make a slave of you then why isn’t there a drink in my hand yet?” I teased and his eyes glittered hungrily.
He tugged me along, the crowd parting once more to let us through as he guided me into the cabin. Heat swept over me as I took in the most extravagant common space I’d ever seen. Couches and armchairs filled the huge room and to the right of them was a long bar with free tea, coffee and freaking chilled cucumber water. Someone had placed a couple of kegs on it too plus rows upon rows of liquor and soda sat beside them. The thump of pop music filled the air, the lights low and the chairs pushed away from the centre of the room to create an already thriving dance floor.
Blake gestured to a freckly guy standing at the end of the bar with his hands behind his back and he came running over like there was a zombie trying to chomp on his ass.
“Take her coat,” Blake demanded and the boy rushed forward to pull it from my shoulders.
“Oh that’s not – well alright then.” I let him pull the leather jacket off then he scurried away to hang it on a hook by the door. “What’s with the gofer?” I taunted and Blake breathed a note of amusement.
“He’s one of the Unspeakables.” He slid an arm around my waist, tugging me against his hip as I frowned.
“You mean like in that legend everyone keeps going on about? Do you and your friends seriously call yourself the Night Watchers?” I snorted and his eyes darkened to pitch.
“Keepers,” he corrected, sharp enough to send a delicious shiver through my body. Oh I don’t mind that tone one bit, but it would sound even better in a bedroom. “And yeah, we have a whole flock of little sheep doing our bidding. But don’t worry sweetheart…they deserve it.”
I cocked a brow at him, lowering my voice. “What did that guy do then, put a pin in that big head of yours?” I teased and he smirked.
“He used a screwdriver actually. Frightful fucking mess,” he joked and I released a laugh, though I wasn’t entirely done being curious about his apparent servants.
He led me further into the party and my gaze caught on a tattoo which he had inked on the back of his neck as I followed him. It looked like an arrow soaring through the air towards some unknown target, a feather hanging from its shaft, caught in the wind caused by its flight. There was something captivatingly beautiful in its simplicity and I was struck with the urge to run my fingers over it.
“Nice tattoo,” I commented and Blake turned his green eyes on me with a smirk.
“It’s my Night Keeper mark,” he said with passion flaring in his gaze. “Saint and Kyan have them too. I don’t generally go in for tattoos but this is different. It’s important.”
I bit my lip as he turned away to lead me further into the party and my gaze trailed over the tattoo again. There was something about it that just begged my gaze to stay with it.
He led me up to the makeshift bar and leaned in close to my ear to speak over the music. “So, what’s your poison?”
I eyed the array of liquors on the bar as my neck tingled from the touch of his breath. Eyes were swinging our way from every angle and I realised spending time with any of the Night Keepers was bound to make you a topic of conversation around here. But I didn’t have anyone to impress, so I didn’t really care who was watching me. Even when a group of girls close by pointed and glared, jealousy written in the crinkles in their pretty faces, I just smiled politely and shrugged it off.
I pointed at the bottle of dark spiced rum then