I did what I always do – I hung back and let my actions speak for me. I let Gabriel seduce her with his fucking Gabriel-ness, and waited and hoped that she’d see us both for who we truly are.
I lost her.
Again.
No. Not this time.
I throw off the covers and creep back downstairs, hoping Maria’s already asleep. I back the Porsche out of the garage and drive to the docks. I know Gabriel will take her to Midnight Grotto.
I don’t have a membership, because I usually come with Gabriel. The lady behind the secret door recognizes me (and she definitely recognizes the stack of Ben Franklins I wave in her face), and ushers me inside. The main room is dark, the booths filled with shadowy figures drinking drinks shimmering with dry ice, while a woman dances on the bar with an enormous boa constrictor wrapped around her neck.
I push through the crowd, searching absinthe eyes and fae faces. Finally, I spot them.
Gabriel and Mackenzie.
He holds her hand and leads her up the spiral staircase to the bedrooms. In her hand, I catch the glitter of a silver key.
The world stops.
Gabriel and Mackenzie.
He’s one of my closest friends, and right now I’d happily see him garroted.
I sink to the floor.
I can’t breathe.
Am I breathing?
Pain arcs through my chest.
I’m too late.
She’s made her choice.
It isn’t me.
42
Mackenzie
A woman hands us a giant silver key, like something from a fantasy film. I hold it up to the light, watching the silver twinkle under the lanterns. Gabriel leads me by the hand, up a winding staircase and down a narrow hallway filled with crooked doorways. From behind the doorways, all kinds of lurid sounds fill my ears, heating my veins until my blood boils with lust.
At the end of the hall, we continue our climb on a narrow metal staircase. A school of fish swims past the window as we wind and wind our way upward. At the top of the stairs, there’s only one door. Gabriel steps aside so I can thrust the key into the lock.
I push the door open and step into an oddly-shaped room, enclosed in the same eldritch architecture as the club downstairs, with those eerily beautiful lanterns bobbing across the ceiling. The bed sits in an alcove of glass thrust out over the water, which is several feet below – it appears as though we’re floating. Or flying, for the night sky stretches above us – a blanket of midnight tinged with blood and sprinkled with Gabriel’s magic. I kneel on the edge of the bed and peer down at the water lapping below. Pleasure boats circle around the docks, and in the distance, the lights of a superyacht add their own magic to the skyline.
“How did we get this high?” I ask.
“Were you so distracted by my remarkable personage you didn’t notice all those stairs we climbed?” Gabriel leans down beside me, his hand falling oh-so-casually on my thigh. My skin burns beneath his fingers, and I press my lips together to keep from moaning, from begging.
“Who even says remarkable personage?” I hit back at him, but it’s without my usual fire. Now that I’m here, the buzz of the club and the hypnotic dancing has worn off a bit. I’m alone in a room with Gabriel Fallen – expert fornicator. My celebrity crush, in flesh and blood with his haunting grey eyes focused entirely on me. My nerves kick in.
In response, Gabe tips my chin toward him, brushing his lips against mine so softly, so sweetly, I might’ve convinced myself I dreamed it. But my dreams never light up my body like Fourth of July fireworks, nor do they involve soft fingers tangled in my hair or a hard chest pressed against mine…
Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.
Fuck. I should probably…
“Gabe…” It takes all my self-control to fist a handful of his shirt, to hold him as I lean back, giving me an inch of breathing space.
“Let me guess, you’ve never done this before?” Gabe cocks his eyebrow.
“You got a fetish about taking delicate virgin flowers?” I growl. “And you’d better give me the right answer, or I’m kneeing you in the balls.”
“No fetish, I’m just…” Gabriel kisses the tip of my nose. “It would be an honor, Mac. But are you sure you want it to be me? What about Eli?”
I shake my head. Eli… if I chose him, it would mean something. Eli couldn’t have sex with someone without giving away a piece of himself,