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

Chapter 29 - Don't Run

Bastian led Eleanor into Vortex, keeping a hand at her back, his fingers itching to creep beneath the hemline of her top. "I'll be around, Sugar. You do what you need to do. Business as usual, like we discussed."

"Right." She'd been tense all evening. Even now, her muscles were bunched beneath the black cutoffs and halter she wore for her work clothes.

He leaned down to speak, his lips brushing her ear.

"He won't lay a finger on you, baby girl. Even if he's here," he said, his voice softening. "You'll be safe. I won't let anything happen to you." She nodded, the curls of her pink hair tickling his cheek. "Do you trust me?" he added, hesitant. Perhaps he didn't want to know the answer.

"Yes." Her throat bobbed.

"Good." His shoulders relaxed. "That's smart, Sugar. I got you. Have a good shift." He let his hand slide down the curve of her ass, gave it a gentle squeeze, then smiled at the sound of her hitching breath. She threw a sassy glare at him over her shoulder then sauntered off.

His gold ring hadn't left her finger. He could use it to warn her if necessary. It also allowed him to sense her location, find her when he needed. Not that he needed. The vantage point he selected up on one of the balconies made it easy to track her pink hair as she wove through the growing crowd below, tray in hand, delivering drinks.

He watched, eyes transfixed, as she smiled, then spoke to a group of customers. One of them, a tall male, said something. She threw her head back and laughed. His gut tightened and heat burst through him. He forced the jealous feelings aside, pushed them down deep, and did what he needed to do. His fucking job.

He knew the moment he'd decided on this plan, it wasn't going to be easy. If circumstances were different, he'd have tied Eleanor to his bed for the next week and claimed her thoroughly. Claimed her the way his instincts demanded. Instead, he was stuck watching her give her attention to others during the most volatile time in his life.

It was unlikely that Luke would show. Still, he needed to take the opportunity, just in case. If it wasn't tonight, eventually word would spread that Eleanor had returned to work. He'd come. Someone stupid enough to go traipsing around a goblin's property was stupid enough to come looking.

"Do I want to know why you're lurking in my club, Enforcer?" Eaden appeared beside him, keeping to the shadows. He offered a low, warning growl, his only answer. "Work business, then?" said Eaden. "Because you haven't taken your eyes off her."

"It's none of your concern, Shifter," he responded, hoping it would send Eaden away.

"My employees are my concern, Goblin."

"She's not yours," he bit out, pain flaring in his jaw.

"Whether you like it or not, she's mine to—"

"No," he hissed, rounding on Eaden. "She is mine. She works for you—and probably not for too much longer if I have any say. But she belongs to me." The words were out before he could stop them, and they revealed too much. This was what he'd tried to warn Eleanor of—this side of him.

Eaden wasn't slow. The shifter saw the words for what they were. He inhaled, nostrils flaring. Sudden realization passed over his features. He backed away a step and nodded.

"Keep her safe, then, Bas. And let me know if you need anything." With that, he was gone.

The next six hours passed painfully slowly. Bastian's muscles were aching, tense. Every new interaction Eleanor had found him fighting the urge to jump from the shadows and interfere with whomever she spoke to. His eyes darted to every face, every head of shaggy blonde hair, searching. Luke did not appear. He wasn't sure if he should be furious, or relieved.