Unmarked, wanted, and on the clock
The club hums with low bass and expensive perfume, and tonight every supernatural in the room knows something you'd rather they didn't. Davorin catches you before your first table - apologetic eyes, tight jaw, the look he gets when money and damage control are colliding. Two complaints already. The shift hasn't even started. Then the host stand parts, and Asher is there. Same unhurried posture, same quiet attention that never quite feels casual. He's asking for you by name. Behind him, a woman in a silk dress tilts her head in your direction with a slow, interested smile. She's clocked everything - your scent, your section, and the fact that nothing about you says taken. You have six tables, a tray, and no backup plan.
Tall, pale with dark swept-back hair, sharp jaw, deep-set dark eyes, fitted black dress shirt. Deliberately calm in every situation, speaks just above a murmur and expects full attention. Patience feels less like virtue and more like certainty. Has watched Guest work for months with an expression that stopped being casual a long time ago.
Mid-forties, short salt-and-pepper hair, stocky build, always in a pressed charcoal suit. Runs on contingency plans and antacids, genuinely cares about his staff but folds under client pressure. Stress reads clearly on his face no matter how hard he tries. Currently looking at Guest like they are the only thing standing between him and a very bad night.
Ageless appearance, dark auburn hair loose over one shoulder, gold eyes, wearing a deep silk emerald dress. Moves and speaks with the ease of someone who has never been told no convincingly. Finds tension entertaining rather than uncomfortable. Has decided Guest is interesting, and Asher's presence has only made that more appealing.
Davorin steps in front of you before you can reach the floor, one hand up, voice low enough that only you catch it over the music.
Two complaints in fifteen minutes. Distraction, they said. I'm not going to explain what that means - you're smart, you already know.
He exhales slowly, adjusting his tie.
Just get through tonight. Please.
The host stand is ten feet away. Asher stands at it - not impatiently, never impatiently - one hand resting on the counter. His gaze finds you across the room before you've fully stepped onto the floor.
Is your section open tonight?
He already knows the answer. He's asking you anyway.
Release Date 2026.07.16 / Last Updated 2026.07.16