River of Shadows (Underworld Gods #1)

Matt is a friend of ours. If you want to get more specific, he’s my ex-boyfriend. I dated him for a few weeks last summer, totally casual. The sex was okay, and to be honest, the only reason I dated him is because he’s the drummer in a White Zombie cover band, and I thought he was sexy as hell.

But, as is often the case with me, even though I’m attracted to a guy, the sexual experience ended up being lackluster. There was just no … spark. No physical connection. I know I’m probably asking for too much — Elle tells me that as long as I’m getting off I should be satisfied, but it is what it is. For a while there I thought maybe I was a lesbian, but Elle, who’s bisexual, put that to rest pretty quickly. Turns out I exclusively want dick, I’m just picky about said dick, expecting my world to be blown wide open, for the earth to quake every time I have an orgasm.

I blame the monster erotica on my Kindle.

But despite the somewhat awkward hook-ups, it turned out Matt was okay with just being friends and we’re so much more compatible this way. Sometimes I think it’s a shame that we didn’t have the chemistry I needed, but the fact that I got a good friend out of it makes it worthwhile.

“I hope he isn’t bringing his girlfriend,” Elle adds under her breath.

Okay, so maybe there’s a teeny tiny bit of jealousy on my behalf when it comes to his new girlfriend, Beth. I know I’m the one who broke up with him, but I don’t make the rules. She seems nice enough and I definitely don’t want him back, but I guess deep down, the closer he gets to her, the more he might pull away as a friend. See, she doesn’t like me very much. She acts like she’s afraid of me for some reason, and because of that, Elle doesn’t like her either, which makes our hang-outs a lot less fun.

As if on cue, Matt walks in through the door.

Thankfully alone.

I stick my hand out of the curtain and wave him over to us.

“Now you have to buy three drinks,” Elle reminds me. “Should have moved faster.”

Matt stops in front of our table, grinning at us both. “Okay, what are you having?”

I give Elle a triumphant smile. Matt almost always takes care of the bill when he’s here. Though he’s a musician on the side, he’s got a start-up going in Palo Alto with him and some of his friends, an app that tells you what TV show you should stream tonight. It’s only in beta mode at the moment, but he’s rolling in investor money.

“I’ll have a Paloma,” I tell him, looking him up and down. He’s wearing a black hoodie and jeans, but his black leather high-tops catch my eye. “New shoes? They look expensive.”

A flush appears across his tanned face. “Yeah,” he says, running his hand through his brown hair. “New Jordans.”

“Jesus, Matt,” Elle says. “Your band know your shoes cost half a grand?”

He laughs, giving her a look like she has no idea. “What do you want to drink, Elle?”

“Surprise me,” she says, flashing him a smile and wiggling in her seat. “I’m feeling risky tonight. Frisky, too.”

Matt looks to me, brows raised, in a way that says are we sure we should be getting her drunk?

I shrug. There’s no stopping Elle when she’s in a mood.

He walks off to the bar, a line already forming, the place getting busier, half the people in here looking like they’re underage. I have to wonder how long this place has until it gets shut down.

“Hey, I was thinking maybe the guy following me was a cop,” I tell Elle.

“Oh yeah? A hot cop?”

I make a face. “Ew. No. I never saw his face.”

“Then how do you know he’s not a hot cop?” She pops the cherry from her drink in her mouth, wagging her brows at me. “Hey, want to see me tie a knot with my tongue?”

I watch her struggle with it in her mouth, waiting to be wowed. Elle is gorgeous in this tiny little pixie way, but the kind of pixie that will bite you. Just like Tinkerbell, fueled by spite.

She pulls out the stem, perfectly tied, smiling at me triumphantly.

“How do you not have a girlfriend right now?” I ask her.

“I’d say the same to you,” she says. “You know it’s been a while since you went out with Matt. Maybe it’s about time you put yourself back out there.”

“I’ve been busy,” I tell her.

“I know. As have I. But after this exam, you’re free.”

“Let’s just stick to rating the guys that walk in the door.”

She gives me a wry look. “You need to take chances, Lenore. I mean, look at you. You’re going to waste.”

I laugh. “I am not. If you’re trying to make me feel old, it’s not working.”

“You’re not old, you’re hot as fuck, in the middle of your degree, at Berkeley of all places. You should be using this time to your advantage. You should be getting laid every weekend if you’re not looking for a relationship.”

I’m about to tell her that I’m fine, when movement by the door steals my attention.

A couple walks in, a girl and a guy, maybe the ones who were smoking cigarettes earlier, but my focus goes straight to the man standing behind them.

The man staring right at me, gaze burning deep into mine, even from across the room.

That feeling of breathlessness returns.

My skin feels too tight, too hot.

The blood pounds dangerously hard in my veins.

But instead of feeling fear, I feel complete fascination.

This is the most gorgeous human being I’ve ever seen.

Creature, the voice in my head pipes up. Gorgeous creature.

Yeah, somehow that seems more fitting, because there’s something definitely otherworldly about this guy.

He’s tall, broad-shouldered, big. Naturally built like a truck.

But his face is pure masculine elegance.

Square jaw, full lips, straight nose, facial hair that’s artfully groomed yet scruffy. Arched low-set black brows that keep his penetrating blue eyes in the shadows. His hair is black, wavy and long, almost to his chin. He’s like if Aragon from Lord of the Rings just walked in here wearing a three-piece black suit and red tie. His clothes scream money.

“Wow, I’d definitely rate her a ten,” I hear Elle say.

This can’t be the man who was following me, can it?

“Her?” I repeat absently, unable to look away from the man’s gaze. I’m completely captive in it.

I want him to know my name.

“Yeah,” she says. “What are you staring at?”

It takes all my effort to blink and look at Elle, and the moment I do, my blood runs cold, the connection severed.

“You don’t see that man?” I whisper, finding it hard to talk.

I look back to the door, but he’s gone.

“Who, the scrawny dude who just walked in with the inexplicably hot girlfriend?” she asks.

I get to my feet and step out of the booth, looking around. Where the hell did he go? “There was a guy here. By himself. I was…we were looking at each other.”

“Okaaay,” Elle says. “What did he look like? He must have been Oscar Isaac-worthy to get you out of your seat like that.”

I shake my head, not understanding it. Not only where he went, but what came over me. That wasn’t normal. I’ve never had my body react like that to anyone before. Maybe that’s what I’ve been missing. It’s not enough to just find someone hot or attractive, but to find yourself attracted on some other realm.

Realm? Okay, calm down, I tell myself, forcing myself to sit back down. You’re getting a bit woo-woo here.

“Lenore?” Elle prods me. “How old was he?”

“I…I don’t know. Maybe thirty-five? Forty?”

She scoffs. “You and your older men. No wonder you’re so picky. And no wonder he didn’t stick around. Probably stepped in here and realized we’re all a bunch of youngins. The man can’t party.”

She’s right. The mystery man probably figured out pretty fast that this wasn’t his scene. I mean, yeah, it looks cool, but if you look closely you’ll see how cheap and rough around the edges this place is. It’s all for show.

Still, the disappointment in my chest is palpable.

“Do you think it was the guy following you?” she asks.

I glance at her. Her interest is piqued again. “I don’t know. This man was wearing a suit. The other one was wearing a long coat. I think.”