The Sleeper's Harp (The Arcane Artifacts, #1)

Chapter 12 - The Vault

I found him in the kitchen. He froze, frying pan and spatula in hand, hovering over two dinner plates. His lips parted. He made a slow perusal of my body. It sent tingles straight to my fingertips. I felt his eyes like a caress, gently gliding across my skin, hesitating on the low neckline of my top, snagging on the strip of exposed stomach, then faltering on the leather of my skirt, the length of leg on display, the boots that tied everything together. He worked his way up just as slowly. When his eyes met mine, they were nearly black.

"It's perfect."

My stomach flopped. I exhaled, running my hands down the fabric of the top. "You're sure?" Hesitance crept into my voice. This was The Vault we were talking about.

"Positive, Sugar. One look and you'll bring them to their knees. Only reason I'm not on the floor is I didn't want to ruin our dinner." He winked, hefting the frying pan before finishing his work, loading a smothered chicken breast onto each plate.

"Uhm...is that what I should be going for, though? I don't want people on the floor." Nor did I want a bunch of attention from dangerous supernaturals.

"It's exactly what I want. Don't worry. I won't let you out of my sight. You'll be safe. Come, eat."

He set both plates on the island. I moved over to one and sat down. My mouth watered. The chicken was smothered in demiglace, paired with long grain wild rice and sautéed carrots that gave off a hint of brown sugar. He'd garnished everything with fresh rosemary.

"Dig in," he said, adding a glass of ice water beside my plate.

I grabbed my fork and knife, cutting into the food. He took a seat beside me, head angled towards me, waiting for my response. I didn't care that a tiny groan escaped as I bit into the chicken, chewed, and swallowed. "I don't think I've ever tasted chicken this good," I breathed, glancing at him. "I didn't think it could be anything but plain and boring."

"First for everything," he said, lips twitching, before starting on his.

"Where'd you learn to cook like this, anyway?" I managed after several more bites.

He shrugged. "Just time and practice. I've always loved food. I eat a lot of it. Need it for storing up energy and such." He spoke in between chewing.

Huh. Interesting.

We fell silent until our plates were nearly cleared. When my appetite was mostly sated, I let my mind drift to the matter at hand. I'd heard rumors about The Vault, mostly in passing during my time at Vortex. Whispers here and there. "Isn't The Vault an exclusively supernaturals club? I've heard that humans aren't allowed. Something about it being too dangerous. It's supposed to be like, an illicit underground thing, right?"

"Yes—to all that." He picked up his glass of water and took a long drink.

"So...I'm human?"

"Right, about that. I'm going to send you in wearing a glamor—a good one. You should be fine. Which reminds me—" He fished around in his pocket, pulling out a thin band of gold. A ring. "Put this on, it should fit."

I gaped. Heat filled my face. "You're not—we're not pretending to be, like, a married couple or something, are we?"

He chuckled. "No, Sugar. Here—"

He took my hand. I didn't fight him. Taking my pointer finger, he slipped the gold band into place. It was too large, but as I stared at it, it shrank into place until it was a perfect fit. My lips parted. He was doing magic.

"I have an affinity for metals," he said by way of explanation. "I'll be able to send you signals with this."

"Like...what kind of signals?" I asked, lifting my hand, moving the ring about in the light. Despite being a simple band, it was elegant, and I rather liked it.