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

Chapter 12 - The Vault

"Like this." The ring turned hot, but not hot enough to burn.

"Oh..." My eyes widened.

"If I want to get your attention, or send a signal, or whatever, that's what I'll do. Got it?"

"Mmm-hmm," I managed, still staring at it. Then I dropped my hand. "Wait, a signal because we're not going to be together?"

"Not the whole time, no. Don't worry, I'll walk you through it. All finished?"

I glanced down and nodded. Despite how delicious the food was, I suddenly found I couldn't finish the rest of my plate. He got up and cleared them, fussing about in the kitchen for a few minutes before turning to face me. "All right. Let's get going."

I stood, then hesitated. "You're going to wear that?"

"Sure, why not?" It wasn't exactly bad. Black jeans and a black T-shirt like the one I'd first seen him in. "I'll probably carry a few weapons in, just to make a statement. But I can summon those once we get there."

Weapons...statement...his words started to register.

"I really don't know what I'm getting myself into, do I?" I muttered, following him out of the kitchen and into the garage.

"Here, put these on." He handed over a leather jacket and the same helmet I'd used before. The garage door opened while I put them on. Then I was on the back of his bike, with him easing it outside.

Darkness greeted us. Bastian revved the bike's engine. A fluttery sensation planted itself in my stomach. We were really doing this. I hadn't processed much of my experience on his bike last night. I'd been too distraught over Luke. But now, I intended to enjoy every sensation, starting with the man in front of me. I leaned closer to Bastian, tightening my hold around him. Instead of locking my hands together, I shamelessly splayed them across his torso. A rumble sounded in my helmet. "Hold on tight, Sugar," he said, then we shot forward, out of the driveway and onto the asphalt drive.

A squeal rushed from my lips. I tightened my hold, squeezing my thighs around him. Adrenaline dumped into my system and heat followed, pooling up in my core my awareness honed in on all the places we connected. Bastian's solid form handled the bike with ease.

"What made you choose Kentwood?" I asked as large properties sailed past us.

"I like the neighborhood."

"Right."

"Everyone keeps to themselves," he elaborated. "Most of them are supernaturals. They stay out of my business, and I stay out of theirs. But..." He fell silent. "Mostly it was the house."

"I like it," I admitted. "Your house, I mean. I thought it didn't suit you at first," I admitted. "But seeing you in it, now I get it."

A grumble was his only response.

The city rose up around us, suburbs first, then taller buildings, until we were drifting through traffic. He didn't drive like he had before. His maneuvering was smooth and leisurely. I paid careful attention to our path, curious as to the location of the infamous club. Admittedly, my mind raced ahead of me, trying to anticipate what happened next.

"When we arrive, I'll glamor you," Bastian said, his voice in my ear. "Having the ring will act as a conduit. On our way inside, we'll pass by the bouncers. You'll be on my arm, so you'll have nothing to worry about. I need not tell you to avoid acting nervous. Obviously."

"Right. Act cool. Got it."

He huffed. "We're going to head to the bar first. I'll order you a drink. You won't drink it—only pretend. After that, I'm going to leave you to go speak with Aramis. He has a VIP area exclusive to him and his clientele."