The Arbiter: Divinely Damned Book One

by K. B. Ladnier

  When the song ends, I instantly stop dancing and just stand there with eyes wide as saucers like an idiot for a second. It isn’t until he gives me a wide, bad-boy grin that shows off his pearly white fangs that I snap out of my stupor, then exit the stage. Jamie and Dahlia are quick to take up post on either side of me as we walk towards the back stairs, booming applause at our backs. They say nothing until we step onto the second floor. My brain is still a confused mess, so I just stare at them, unable to find my voice.

  “Holy shit, that was intense!” Jamie says, “you and my liege were practically eye fucking each other!”

  My liege? What the fuck?

  “Wait…what? Come again?” I practically stutter.

  Dahlia and Jamie fall into a fit of giggles at my shocked expression, both of them holding their bellies and leaning into each other as the other dancers’ step around us to head towards the bar.

  “He’s the Strige Ruler, Nocturna. One of the Infernal,” Jamie finally answers after getting herself under control.

  “And he’s a damn fine liege, if you ask me,” she continues, “I had no idea that Liege Monroe was so fucking sexy. You’re a damn lucky B if he was giving you the glow eyes. I’d give my left tit for him to look at me like that.”

  It’s at this point that my brain is finally catching up to speed, “WHAT? You’re telling me that I just danced half naked in front of the Strige Liege of the Infernal?”

  “Why do I feel like we’re on repeat?” Jamie asks, looking pointedly at me.

  “Shit!” I yell, startling her so bad she jumps a foot off the floor. Throwing up my hands in exasperation, I head straight to the bar. That is so not how I wanted my first impression with The Infernal to go.

  The bartender smartly moves out of my way as I toss as much alcohol as I can manage into a cup of ice. I don’t stop until I have the largest Long Island Iced Tea sitting in front of me that the Creator himself would gaze at in awe. Without flinching, I sit and start chugging it down in big gulps.

  “Ok, I think she’s broken,” Lena, my Lupin dancer says as all the girls look at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  Jamie quickly grabs the glass from my hand, spilling some of it down my chin and neck in the process. I sputter trying not to choke and flash my eyes at her in warning.

  She opens her mouth to say something, but a voice that sends chills across my skin cuts in instead, “Some things never change.”

  I don’t need to even turn around to know who that is.

  Without hesitation, I bite out, “You've got some balls waltzing back in here like you own the fucking place." I pivot in my seat, facing down the only Damned that has ever brought me to my knees.

  Enoch, the fun sucking, traitorous maggot that he is, sits down at the bar stool across from me, smirking like he didn't betray the pants off me. Quite literally.

  He holds his hands palms up in surrender, "Can we be civil for a few minutes? I just came to talk, Nocturna."

  It’s been almost a hundred years since I saw him last, and that isn’t a bad thing.

  Unfortunately, he hasn’t changed in the least little bit. A solid six-foot-five wall of sexy. His dark hair cut short and styled flawlessly. The deep tan skin of his chest peeks through a crisp, white button-up shirt under a charcoal grey suit. There’s a red handkerchief folded neatly in the pocket of his jacket and he’s even got the expensive leather shoes to match. He has a round, masculine nose that fits his face perfectly and a slender jawline covered in a clean-cut beard. Topaz eyes, smooth as desert sand, meet mine as a snarky grin passes over his face. There is nothing in this world that would make me happier than punching it right off.

  A supremely unladylike snort leaves me, "You don't have the right qualifications to meet that simple demand."

  There's a tick that starts in his jaw. I've known him long enough to recognize that sign of anger, "This place is neutral, love. I'm not leaving until you talk to me."

  "It's still my establishment," I growl. Frustrated with myself for letting him get a rise out of me, I turn my back to him.

  "As I said, I'm not leaving," he threatens as I continue to ignore him.

  Grinding my teeth together to keep from saying anything, I stand and turn on my heel, heading towards the storage room.

  How fucking infuriating that Damned can be. Who does he think he is coming here tonight after everything he did to me?

  "Thinking of me, amare?" his honey thick voice says from the door.

  My fingers close around a neck of Jack. I whirl around and chuck it at his head. "You don't have the right to call me that anymore!"

  The bottle shatters against the wall, peppering him with glass shards and the dark drops of Jack. His slim finger catches a droplet running down his cheek before moving it to his mouth to lick it off. "Well, that was a perfect waste of a good bottle of liquor."

  I can't figure out if I'm angrier with him or myself for getting caught up in watching him when he did that. "I've got thirty more where that came from," I snark back. Him. Definitely him.

  One side of his lips turn up, "Come now, love. No need to be nasty."

  My hand reaches out for another bottle. I feel more than see him move. Before I know what's happened, my fingers slip from the glass, and I hit the back wall hard enough to make the bottles on the shelf rattle. Enoch growls. I plead insanity for what happens next.

  His mouth meets mine with a clash of lips and teeth. All common sense has left my brain the moment his soft lips touch mine, and I'm left firing on fumes. His thin black shirt offers no protection from my nails when I rake them across his shoulder blades hard enough to tear the material and draw blood. The scent spurs him on further. He quickly kneels to yank my pants down and off, then lifts me by my hips. The sound of the fabric tearing fills the air as my underwear is ripped from my body, before he stands and his hand moves down to his own pants to lower them. All I can do is hang on as he pushes into me and fucks me against the storeroom wall; where anyone can walk in on us. I manage to maintain enough dignity to not call his name as my orgasm hits me hard and fast. There's no hiding it from him as he tenses within me and lets out a roar of satisfaction.

  In less than twenty seconds after, my feet are on the floor again and his zipper is up. The thud of his boots resonates as he walks back toward the door. He never stops as he looks over his shoulder, "Just like old times, hmm?”

  At that, he shuts the door behind himself and leaves me so fucking angry that I could take on Cain himself.

  I quickly right my top and start to pull on my pants. Unfortunately, I have to wrestle to get the leather up my sweat coated legs. I curse a few times before they finally cooperate. I stuff my tattered underwear into my back pocket, run my fingers through my hair to smooth it down, and storm out of the storeroom. Jamie intercepts me halfway to stalking and murdering that asshole.

  “Hey now, I don’t care if you’re my boss, the new Arbiter, or the Creator himself. You’re firstly my friend, and I’m not going to let you lose your mind right now. I’ve got Dahlia distracting Liege Monroe and the others on lookout for any other Infernal that decide to randomly pop in. Let’s go get you fixed up.” She gives me a once over and her eyes widen, but lucky for her, she doesn’t mention what I know she can sense.

  She drags me over to one of the spare rooms off to the side. Sometimes I forget that we even have these damn things. The doors are always blocked off by couches or covered with black curtains.

  Her next words kill any hope I had of either getting black-out drunk, or committing murder, “I don’t even want to know what just happened, or even what’s going on in your head right now. All I know, is if you don’t pull your shit together, you’re going to hate yourself in the morning for letting yourself lose control.”

  Fuck. When did my life get so complicated?

  Laid across one of the soft back chairs is a more appropriate outfit for meeting a Liege of the Infernal. Jamie came through for me again. I shake my head clear of the bullshit and on
e arm hug her, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get crazy for a minute there. Thanks for reigning it back in.”

  Though after what Enoch just pulled, who could blame me for wanting to rip his nut sack off?

  Hugging me back, she says, “Anytime. Now get your ass dressed, so you can officially meet the undeniable Liege Monroe.”

  The desire for another drink kicks in as she walks out, and I think about what just happened in the store room. Enoch is a dick, yet I let him back in every time. If only the Creator knew about that flaw in my system, he never would have chosen me. I’m sure of it.

  I try to unscramble my thoughts as I get dressed. The last thing I need is a head full of Enoch while meeting with an Infernal. Taking a moment to appreciate the kickass outfit Jamie picked out, I drag tearless, leather tight pants up my legs -- which actually cooperate this time -- and zip up my black combat boots. The black, leather halter top fits me like a second skin, and gives me a boost in the cleavage department. I have to wipe away some of my makeup beneath my eyes that was smudged after my little escapade with Enoch, but thankfully its mostly intact. By the time I have my curls pinned up and dragged my ass out of the curtain, I feel more like myself.

  Dahlia walks by and informs me in a quiet whisper that the Strige Liege and his second are waiting in the VIP section. That explains that second Strige that was tagging along with him.

  My nerves are back as I make my way over to him. Catching Felix’s eye as I walk by. He gives me a smile for encouragement.

  With my eyes trained on the back of the Strige’s head, I watch as he turns his head in my direction, no doubt hearing my boots. That wicked grin crosses his face. He stands and holds out a hand for me. During the thirty second walk over here, all I could do is hope that my smart-ass mouth won’t get me in trouble with this guy. I’d hate to piss him off. However, it looks like my fears are unwarranted. His attitude gives off more of that laid-back kind of vibe.

  I am pleased when he doesn’t shake my hand, but instead nestles it gently into his. Even more so when he lifts it to his lips and kisses my knuckles lightly, never taking his eyes from mine. Now that they aren’t glowing Strige red, I can see that they are more of a warm, amber tone, with a burnt-orange hue flaked in some areas.

  “It’s an honor to meet the new Arbiter,” he says with a deep Cajun French drawl.

  If I wasn’t so scared of embarrassing myself, my knees would have probably given out at the sound.

  “Liege Monroe, I’m sorry for making you wait,” I say in an almost whisper. It comes out sounding more scared than I thought I was feeling.

  To my surprise, he throws back his head and laughs, which isn’t something I’m expecting at all. “Lady Arbiter, you don’t have to stick to formalities. Monroe is fine. Your power rivals mine now after all. It would be silly to use such titles when this is far from a formal meeting.”

  He leans close enough for me to feel his breath across my face, “I hate titles, anyway.”

  I’m so screwed, and I can’t say I’d deny the literal sense.

  “Well then, you can just call me Nocturna then,” I say trying to distract myself.

  “Merci, Nocturna,” he says. The sound of my name rolling off his tongue in that drawl makes me think of nothing but wicked thoughts. And when our eyes meet, I can see that he knows exactly what I’m thinking. He grins and removes his hold on my hand as he moves to the side, motioning to the other Strige behind him, “This is Raphael. He is my second.” The way he says it is less Ninja Turtle and more like ‘Ra-Feel’.

  As if I’m not already having a hard-enough time containing myself with that accent. Add that to the smoky sound of his voice and the smooth, sultry way the words seem to roll of his tongue, and I can already say that I am in so much trouble.

  Raphael shakes my hand and takes his seat again. Monroe puts his hand at the small of my back and waves with his other hand for me to sit in my chair. His has strategically been put right next to mine. It makes me wonder if it was him or the girls who did it. I concentrate on making a good impression and try my best to ease down into the chair rather than flopping down like I normally do.

  “We apologize for showing up unannounced,” he says, “but I wanted to meet you on my own before the other Infernal get here and start interrogating you. We were all surprised to hear of Cassia’s death, and even more so, someone so young had been chosen to take her place.”

  You and me both, hot stuff.

  It’s unnerving how intense his stare is while he speaks. It makes me ridiculously insecure. I avert my eyes and stare through the glass at the floor below. It’s filled with a sea of people dancing to The Beautiful People by Marilyn Manson. The room is mostly sound proof, but some of the music still filters up to us.

  “Yeah, let me tell you. It’s already been quite the experience,” I say fidgeting with my fingers.

  My eyes snap back to his as his hand shoots out to stop my fiddling, “Do I make you nervous, Mon Cher?” He asks.

  Well using the French words for ‘my dear’ surely isn’t helping.

  “Not at all,” I lie. It’s an obviously bullshit answer.

  A loud familiar laugh comes from behind us. The three of us spin in our seats to locate the reason for the offensive sound, even though, I already know who it belongs to.

  My stomach drops into my ass.

  “Why are you still here?” I growl viciously.

  “You showed up early as well I see,” Monroe states at the same time.

  We both look to each other in confusion.

  Enoch stands behind us with that arrogant smile plastered across his face, and it makes me want to find something to legit murder his ass.

  My shocked face quickly changes to a glower as he walks toward us. Enoch is one of the most egotistical bastards I’ve ever had the misfortune of giving my body to. We’d had a passionate affair when I was young and stupid. Then, he left me without a second glance back.

  Well, he’s got a rude awakening coming if he thinks that what just happened changes anything. He’ll learn quickly that I’m not the easy-going minx that I was before. I’m a kick ass first, ask questions later kind of bitch now, and most of it is his fault. I don’t know what he’s up to, but two can play this game.

  “I’m here for the very same reason Liege Monroe is. To see the new Arbiter, of course,” he says. “I must say though, I’ve never known you to be nervous around men like us.” He looks to Monroe, “Surely even you knew that was a lie.”

  I grind my teeth together, wishing I could smack that smirk right off his face.

  My resolve to not play his game slips, “Fuck you, Enoch. You don’t know shit about me anymore.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Monroe watching me.

  He signals between us, “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you two know each other?”

  Enoch’s smile gets even wider as I say, “Not anymore.”

  His eyebrow arches as he answers Monroe for himself, “Actually, very much so, Liege Monroe. We caused quite the scandal back in the day.”

  Yep, definitely still the same egomaniac as always.

  Monroe’s eyebrow goes up in question, but I just roll my eyes.

  “I think Enoch is giving himself a lot more credit than what’s due. It was actually fleeting and not all that impressive,” I reply to Monroe’s unasked question at the same time my eyes dare Enoch to even think about mentioning the store room.

  “Hardly. Mistress Nocturna is just downplaying our righteous love affair,” he says using my familiar title.

  “I’d call it a serious lack of judgement,” I supply to Monroe with a real smile. “We’re all allowed that young and stupid stage, right?” Returning my glare to Enoch, I say, “You’re just a smug bastard who has issues with telling the truth.”

  “Oh,” he says, “I know that I’m smug. But, I remember quite fondly that it was one of the qualities you loved about me.”

  Monroe and Raphael’s heads move back and forth between us like they
are watching a tennis match while we argue.

  I feel the anger inside of me growing ready to erupt, and he is the flame that lights the fuse to the fuming bomb inside of me. I temper it though and say, “Again, why the fuck are you here?”

  “Nocturna, he is one of the Infernal,” Monroe says, “Clearly, he had the same idea I had about showing up early for the meeting tomorrow.”

  I try not to let my shock show on my face. After all those years of us being together, and he never mentioned it, not one time. Omitting the truth is just as bad as lying, and I hate him even more for it now.

  Just looking at him brings back the memory of how we met.

  I had just finished a well needed year long vacation around Europe. I was excited to finally set foot back on American soil, and eagerly boarded the ship that would take me there. While traveling, I had come up with the idea to start a sanctuary for both the Damned and Divine, where all could feed and mingle without judgement. All of the bad blood between the two was next to none in Europe, and I wanted to take that back to America with me.

  The trek across the ocean to America was uneventful for the first three days. I kept to myself and acted like a normal human, filling myself up on the fine-dining of first-class and dancing with handsome strangers. There were even two Striges aboard that I made quick friends with. Conversation was at minimum, since they didn’t speak in a language that I knew very well. Even though I knew most languages, theirs I still had trouble with.