Chapter Eight - Veiled Desires

The attic of a large old building has been transformed into a dimly lit den of leather, lace, and magic. The room was full of low red and purple lighting, heavy bass music, chains and hooks dangling from beams. People in various states of undress and fetish were mingling, some performing on a small raised stage. Nate knew that he shouldn’t have come, but he knew that when he’d heard that Tyra was going to the party he had better be on duty and keep an eye on the new witch. Because sure, that was the only reason…

He stood near the edge of the room, wearing his black duster as always, his arms crossed and watching the crowd with a sharp, practiced eye. His gaze kept drifting between Tyra and the beautiful head of the coven who was currently wearing mostly nothing and hanging in a cage, being slapped with a leather belt. She seemed to be enjoying herself.

The conversation that Trya was having with her friend, Haven, caught his attention and he focused his hearing ability on the two girls. Tyra was wearing a cute, little black dress and heels that went up to her knees, and looking absolutely stunning. But she also looked extremely uncomfortable as she fidgeted with the glass in her hand, glancing around nervously. He could tell that she wanted to disappear, but that she was desperately trying to fit in.

“I don’t know… Nolan said he might come, but I haven’t seen him,” Tyra was saying softly to Haven. “Part of me is relieved though. I feel so out of place here.”

“You do look incredible though,” Haven grinned at her. “Nolan would be an idiot to miss seeing you like this.”

Tyra smiled faintly, but Nate could see she was forcing it. “I keep thinking about what Victor would say if he saw me here. That I’m too vanilla… or trying too hard. I just wanted to prove I could do this, but now I’m wondering why I’m even trying.”

Nate felt his jaw tighten as he heard her mention Nolan, and then Victor. He frowned a little, wondering why he felt jealous about her being interested in the rogue wizard, and also concerned about who Victor was.

Before he could dwell on it, or hear more of the conversation, a familiar presence slid up beside him. Jezebel Locke had apparently escaped her cage on the stage and was now gliding towards him with a purpose. She was wearing almost nothing but a strategically placed black silk and glowing blue runes across her skin, pressing close to him and trailing her hand lightly down his arm.

“There you are, Caeden…” she purred, her voice like warm honey. “Are you going to brood in this corner all night, or are you gonna come play with me?” She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear and her body heat pressing against his side. “You’re wound so tight tonight. Let me help you loosen up… Just a little. No one has to know. What happens in the attic stays in the attic…”

As her fingers traced the edge of his duster, he felt the pull and the familiar temptation of Jezebel’s storm, but his eyes were locked on Tyra across the room. “Not tonight, Jezebel,” he said, his voice low and strained.

“Liar… I can feel how tense you are. Is it because of the new lightning bolt over there?” She asked, smiling wickedly. “She’s watching you too, you know… Even while she talks about that rogue wizard…”

Nate tried hard to resist her charms, feeling his eyebrows narrow closer together as he watched Tyra.

“Jealous, Nathaniel? That’s new. I like it. Come dance with me. Or better yet… let me take you downstairs to my room and remind you how good it feels to stop thinking for a while.

Nate gently but firmly caught her wrist, stopping her hand from wandering lower. He kept his voice rough as he said, “Jezebel… I said not tonight.”

Jezebel pulled back slightly, eyes sparkling with amusement and challenge as she followed his gaze to Tyra. “Interesting… The storm is finally catching your attention. Be careful, Caeden… She might be the one who actually breaks you.”

She then gave him one last lingering look, then sauntered off into the crowd with a sway of her hips. Nate exhaled slowly, his golden magic flickering faintly at his fingertips. Jezebel was right about one thing though.. Tyra Pierce was certainly dangerous, and yet there was something about her that just kept pulling me towards her. It might be a mistake, but he was finding himself drawn to her more and more…