AI The door swung inward on protesting hinges, spilling yellow light from the flat's single bulb into the dim stairwell. Rory gripped the edge, three deadbolts now thrown back, her straight black hair catching the draft. She blinked at the figure filling the threshold—platinum blond slicked sharp, charcoal suit hugging his frame like a shadow. Lucien's cane tapped once against the frame, ivory handle glinting . One eye burned amber; the other drank the light whole.
"Rory Carter." His voice rolled low, French lilt curling the edges. He leaned forward, scent of bergamot and smoke invading the cramped hall.
Her fingers tightened on the door. Bright blue eyes narrowed . "Lucien. You pick locks now, or did Ptolemy let you in?"
The tabby cat wove between her ankles, tail flicking, oblivious. Lucien’s lips twitched—a half-smile that never reached the black eye. He straightened to his full height, eclipsing the stair light. "Your friend's security flatters her paranoia. Took five minutes."
"Get out." She blocked the doorway, shoulder-length hair swinging as she shifted. The small crescent scar on her wrist itched under his gaze, old accident flaring like memory.
He didn't budge. Cane planted firm. "We need to talk."
"Talk." She crossed her arms, the flat's chaos spilling behind her—books teetered in stacks on every surface, scrolls unrolled across the kitchen counter, notes pinned to walls like frantic maps. Eva's absence hung thick; she'd dashed out hours ago for some occult supplier, leaving Rory to mind the cat and her own unraveling thoughts. "You vanish for three months, no word after that night in the warehouse, and now you show up at Eva's door like some ghost in a suit. Say it and go."
Lucien's amber eye traced her face, lingered on the scar. He stepped closer, forcing her back or shut the door. She held ground. Ptolemy yowled, darting inside. "That night." He echoed, voice dropping gravel . "You think I forgot the blade at your throat? Your ex's blood on my hands?"
Her laugh scraped dry. "Evan. Yeah. You saved my skin, then ghosted. Left me with questions and a half-demon mess." She jabbed a finger at his chest, fabric crisp under her nail. Heat radiated through wool. Too close. Always too close with him.
He caught her wrist—gentle clamp, thumb brushing the scar. Electricity sparked. "Evan wasn't human anymore. You saw the eyes. Black like mine." His black eye locked hers, pulling. "I ended it to protect you. You begged me not to."
"Bullshit." She yanked free, but her skin burned where he touched. Stepped back into the flat proper, door banging shut behind him. Deadbolts clicked under her palm—instinct. "You whispered promises in four languages, fucked me against that wall till I couldn't stand. Then dawn hits, and you're gone. Complicated terms? That's cowardice."
Lucien prowled in, cane sweeping books aside on the side table. Scrolls rustled. He pivoted, suit jacket straining across shoulders. "Cowardice is running to London from Cardiff, hiding above Silas's dive. Pretending the underworld doesn't call your name." His gaze raked her—jeans hugging hips, faded tee clinging from the humid night. Hunger flickered in amber.
She flushed, heat coiling low. "Don't." Turned to the kitchenette, snatched a mug from the sink. Water hissed from the tap. Anything to drown the pull. Ptolemy leaped to the counter, batting a pen. "You deal in shadows, Luc. Information, demons, blades in canes. I deliver noodles by day. We don't mix."
His laugh echoed soft, predatory. He closed the gap, hip to the counter beside her. Cane leaned against the fridge. "Lies." One finger hooked her chin, tilted her face. Black eye bored deep; amber smoldered. "You came alive that night. Quick mind, out-of-the-box—saw through my half-truths before I spoke them. Eva warned me about you. Said you'd bolt like her."
"Eva." Rory's breath hitched. His thumb grazed her jaw. "She doesn't know half. Doesn't know how you looked at me after, like I was the only real thing in your cursed world." Mug clattered down, water sloshing . She shoved his chest—solid, unyielding. "Hurt like hell when you left. Things unsaid choke me still."
He trapped her hands against his shirt, heartbeat thundering under her palms. "Say them." Breath ghosted her lips. Bergamot enveloped. "Tell me you felt nothing. That the pull between realms didn't snag us both."
Her knees weakened. Blue eyes searched his—heterochromatic storm. "Felt everything." Voice cracked. "Your demon blood humming in my veins after. The way you kissed the scar, like it mattered. Wanted more. Stupid, reckless more." Pulled one hand free, traced his slicked hair. Platinum strands bent cool under her fingers.
Lucien inhaled sharp. Forehead dropped to hers. "Malphora." He murmured the alias she'd used once, in the warehouse shadows. Lips brushed her temple. "I stayed away for this. Avaros calls me home—father's debts. One slip, and it claims you too."
"Bollocks." She surged up, claimed his mouth. Hard, demanding. He groaned into it, hands fisting her hips, lifting her onto the counter. Scrolls scattered. Ptolemy fled with a hiss. Tongues tangled, months of silence igniting. His fingers dug into denim, pulling her flush. She arched, nails raking his scalp, disrupting the slick.
He broke first, trailing bites down her neck. "Rory." Growl vibrated her skin. "You destroy me." Suit jacket shed in a fluid shrug, revealing crisp shirt stretched taut. Her hands roamed, buttons popping under urgency.
She gasped as his mouth found collarbone. "Then stay destroyed." Legs hooked his waist, heels digging. Counter dug into her back—books toppled, pages fluttering like dying birds. His cane clattered, blade whispering free halfway before he kicked it aside.
Amber eye lifted, black one devouring. "Can't." Honesty slashed. "Moreau blood dooms lovers. Mother died for less." But his hips ground forward, evidence of lies. Heat pooled where they pressed.
"Liar." She nipped his ear, breath ragged. "Eva's notes say half-demons choose. Bind or break." Fingers plunged lower, belt buckle yielding. Leather whispered free.
He shuddered, palms sliding under her tee. Skin met skin—electric , alive. "Choose you?" Voice hoarse. "And drag you to Avaros pits?" Thumbs circled ribs, teasing lower. She bucked, chasing friction.
"Try me." Challenge laced her words. Pulled him down again, kiss bruising. Worlds blurred—Brick Lane curry fumes seeped under door, Ptolemy scratched at bedroom door, scrolls crunched underfoot. His shirt tore open, buttons pinging glass.
Lucien palmed her breast, thumb stroking peak through lace. She moaned, head falling back. "This flat reeks of her research. Potions for demon binding." His whisper hot against throat. "Eva thinks she can cage us."
"Forget her." Rory's hand delved , gripping him through trousers. He bucked, curse in French spilling. Fabric strained. "Feel that? Real. Not realms or debts."
He spun her sudden, back to his chest. Mirror above sink caught them—her flushed cheeks, his wild eyes, hair mussed by her hands. His arm banded waist, free hand dipping front. Fingers teased zipper. "Complicated." Nipped lobe. "You flee abusers, I am one."
"Never." She ground back, sparks igniting . Zipper rasped down. His touch invaded—bold, knowing. Legs trembled . "Evan broke bones. You break walls."
Laughter rumbled, dark. Fingers curled, stroking fire. She clutched sink edge, blue eyes locked on reflection. His black eye met hers there—mirror truth. "Hurt you once." Admission punched. "Warehouse. Lied about the blade."
"Shut up." Arched into him, pulse racing . Pleasure coiled tight. "Own it now."
He spun her again, hoisted onto sink edge. Water dripped cold down spine. Knees parted for him, trousers shoved low. His followed, pooling ankles. Bare now, skin to skin. Amber eye flared as he notched close. "Own you?"
"Yes." Hiss escaped. Nails scored his shoulders.
Thrust stole breath—deep, claiming. Counter rattled, books avalanched. Rhythm built savage, hips snapping. Sweat slicked, breaths mingled. Ptolemy yowled from hall, ignored.
"Rory." Her name prayer and curse. Black eye pinned, unblinking.
She shattered first, cry muffled against his neck. He followed, growl tearing free, burying deep.
Panting slowed. He didn't withdraw—held her there, foreheads pressed. Fingers traced scar anew, tender now. "Things unsaid."
Her laugh weak, arms looped neck. "Plenty left." Blue eyes sparkled wicked. Kissed the corner of his mouth.
Door buzzer screamed sudden—shrill, insistent. Eva's code. Lucien tensed, still sheathed. "Company."
Rory grinned, clenching deliberate. He groaned. "Ignore."
Buzzer wailed again. Footsteps thudded stairs. Deadbolts waited, cane gleamed blade-out on floor. His hand flexed on hip.