A Vampire’s Seduction

A Creature of Habit Novella

(Book 4)

By

Angel Lawson

Author Note: WARNING!  This book is to be read after the full Creature of Habit series. It contains spoilers from the original series and takes place after the final book concludes. If you have not read A Vampire’s Soul start there!!

“We’re just a little worried about you.”

“You do seem aimless, sweetheart.” Olivia smiles sweetly, as though it’s not an insult. “We know things have been hard for you, you know, since—”

“Olivia!” Amelia hisses. The two women glare at one another.

“Seriously, Ryan, it’s been a shitty couple of months but at some point you’re going to have to get back in the saddle.”

At that, I hold up my hands and frown at Carson. “Back in the saddle?” I ask him. “Since when did I ever ride a horse?”

Little known fact: I’m terrified of horses. Even back with the carnival, I’d avoided the menagerie like the plague. The fleas and smell and their whole erratic nature. I watched a man get his arm dismembered by a white leopard. Yeah, nope.

“You know what I mean,” Carson says, rolling his eyes.

I stare at Grant, who had been on the receiving end of family interventions like this for decades. I think for a moment that he may help me, tell everyone else to mind their own fucking business. Roar and stomp and go into one of his tirades about privacy and expectations and living one’s own life. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees and cups his ridiculously sharp chin with his hands. “They have a point.”

“You, too?” I ask, feeling the weight on my shoulders. “So what? You want me to get a job?”

“We’ve had this discussion a million times. You have the body of a sixteen year-old.” Carson coughs and mumbles, “and mind,” before Miles shoots him a warning look and continues. “Maybe, on a good day, in a dark room you can pass for twenty-one. To maintain our coven’s place in society you have to do something.”

“Can’t we just say I’m homeschooled?” I ask. “Or like, don’t they have online school now?”

The whole room glares at me, well aware that most of my online activities do not involve education. Unless you count RPG warfare games or, you know, porn as educational opportunities.

“Ryan,” Amelia says, speaking from her spot on the loveseat next to Grant. “We know it’s been a difficult time for you. But I know from experience, holing yourself up isn’t the most productive way to move forward. Just consider the offer. Grant and I will be ready for you to join our team whenever you are.”

I sigh, running my hand through the hair on the back of my head. I look at Miles. “You’re serious about this?”

“Ryan.” Miles’ voice is calm but direct. “You either work for Grant and Amelia, or I’ll send you to Genevieve and she’ll assign you a position with The Council.”

I groan, because it isn’t fair. No one cared what I did when Sebastian was still here. We fooled around and played video games. Occasionally helped Grant with a project. We laid low, hunted, and did what we wanted. But after Bass disappeared and the big shake-up at The Council, I’ve felt their eyes on me, trying to figure out what to do with Ryan, the poor twin who got left behind.

“No,” I say getting to my feet. They can say I’m ’only’ sixteen but I tower over everyone else in the room. I can take them all singlehanded if I wanted. If I wanted. I look in the violet eyes of my chosen brothers—and sisters—tossing my hands up in annoyance. “You don’t get to make this decision for me. I’ve navigated life just fine for a century.”

I walk out of the room, grabbing my jacket on the way out of the brownstone. The air is hot and muggy but the weather doesn’t bother me. I’m a vampire, the king of the beasts, and no one, not even my family, will tell me what to do.

*

Crack!

The ball touches the sweet spot and zips through the air. I smell the hint of warm leather just before the baseball smashes into the back wall just outside the bullseye painted on the concrete. Underneath, a fine sprinkle of dust falls to the ground.

The machine cranks up, flinging another ball in my direction, and I swing.

Crack!

“Dammit,” I mutter when the ball goes too far off to the left, stopping only because the green net restrained it from crashing into the window and out on the city street.

“Your feet are too wide,” I hear from outside the cage. I pause, fighting back a retort. He wants me to get angry. Tell him to fuck off. That maybe if I blow off enough steam between beating baseballs to death and getting into a verbal spar with him, I’ll eventually calm down.

“Like you can do any better,” I mutter, unable to keep my mouth shut. He can hear me, of course. Doesn’t matter how quietly you talk around a vampire.

Sure enough, the gate opens next to me and I roll my eyes when he puts a batter’s helmet on his perfect head, protecting his perfectly tousled hair. Oh yeah, I hear the girls swooning over the moody bastard everywhere we go. Sometimes men, too. I have no idea how Amelia tolerates his massive ego.

“You don’t actually have to wear a helmet,” I say. “Your head is hard as a rock.”

Grant points to the sign on the building with the tip of the wooden bat.

All batters must wear helmets in the batting cages.

“Dude. Seriously?”

“What if some kid was watching us and thought they shouldn’t have to wear a helmet just because we didn’t? And he gets beaned? Rules are for a reason, Ryan. Don’t forget that.” Grant secures the door and presses the button to start the pitching machine. He lines up his body, taking time to square his shoulders with his feet. The first ball whizzes by but he nails it dead-on and it sails through the air, landing with a pop right in the middle of the target.

“So it’s only okay to break rules when they involve big stuff, like taking a human lover?” I snap. Because really, that’s like, one of the big ones and it certainly didn’t stop him.

He ignores me and lands another home run.

I focus on my own pitches and hit the next three on target. We form a rhythm, alternatingly pummeling the concrete into powdered bits. A small crowd forms to watch us and Grant catches my eye. He jerks his head at the spectators. Time’s up.

Grant hangs the helmet back on the shelf and racks his bat. I add mine to the pile and together we head into the street. “So I’m guessing you didn’t follow me down here to lecture me on my batting form.”

“I know you felt like you were ambushed back there at the house—”

“Felt like? We’ve both been in a variety of ambushes, Grant. That was the definition of one.”

“The others are just a little nervous. They feel the emptiness of Sebastian being gone, too.” I glare at him and start to walk off. Because really? I know our coven pretends to be a family, but Sebastian is my actual brother. It’s not the same.

He grabs my arm. “I’m not comparing the loss. I’m not. But at some point we have to move on. You have to move on.” He tilts his head. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. Amelia and I could really use your help.”

I shove my hands in my pockets and frown at the wet pavement. “You really need help?”

“God, yes,” he replies. “We’re in New York. There’s so much going on I can hardly keep up with it—even with Amelia’s help.” He cuts me a knowing glance. “You know I don’t like her being out there alone anyway. This will allow me to work with her more often. With my baggage, there’s always a chance she could be a target.”

I eye him to see if he’s humoring me, but Grant isn’t known for being overly generous. He would pawn me off on someone else if it didn’t suit his needs. The Amelia angle rings true. Even if he’s not worried about her, he’s pussy-whipped and can barely stand to be out of her sight.

I groan, knowing better than to get involved, but they’re really leaving me no choice. “Fine. What do you need me to do?”

He smiles. “I didn’t want to tell you before you made up your mind, because, well, you’ll see. But there was no way my wife is going to let me follow up on this case on my own. You’re better suited for it anyway.”

“What is it? Not more shifters? I hate those guys.”

He laughs and claps me on the back. “Nothing like that. It’s worse.”

I lift an eyebrow. I admit it, I’m officially curious.

“I need you to track down a Succubus.”

*

My mother was a hooker.

Even as kids, we knew. We understood. Publicly, her job with the circus was a fortune teller, reading palms and a gazing into an opaque crystal ball in an elaborate tent. Her dark, wavy hair and brilliant blue eyes gave her an exotic look that allowed her to charm the citizens of whatever small town we were in. But privately, after the main tent cleared and the midway and attractions closed up for the night, the Ringmaster and owner would bring important men to our train car for entertainment.

At fourteen I was big enough to work as a guard and although he wasn’t as large, Sebastian was always scrappy enough to keep the men that came in and out of our train car on their toes. We’d stand watch from the outside, thinking we were guarding our mother. It wasn’t until years later that we realized our real job was protecting Mr. O’Neil’s investment and collecting payment for my mother’s services.

Sex has always been a part of my life. For work or pleasure. Even after Emmanuel came and upturned our life, killing her for fun and mind-fucking Bass into oblivion, I didn’t blame her occupation for altering the course of our lives. That job put food on our table—gave us a place to sleep. If anything, I had sympathy for sex workers and the sex trade in general. Natural or supernatural.

So yeah, Grant knew sending me out looking for a Succubus would be the only card he had to play. Besides he’s too much of a prude to get involved with a case like this.

“I’ve been tracking her for a while,” he says. He’s at the desk in his new home office. Personally, I can’t find the difference between this office and the last. It’s like he took the entire room in North Carolina and replicated it here. This includes his complicated computer system and the obsessive way he investigates paranormal activity by spreading all the information he’s gathered on the desktop and floor.

“How long?”

“About six weeks.” He points to a city map, finger landing on the north end of town. “The first victim reported being drugged at a bar. He woke up naked in his bed with no memories of the night before.”

“He?” It’s certainly less common for a man to wake up drugged and violated, giving some credence to the Succubus theory. “Maybe he just drank too much?”

“A woman had been there. He had bite marks covering his body.” Grant shows me a picture. Even I wince at the picture and biting during sex, for us, is fair play. For humans? It tends to cross a line. “All over his body.”

 I hold up the image of the man. He’s young—early twenties, maybe—light hair, blue eyes. A quick scan of his body is enough to say he’s fit and takes care of himself. He could have fought off an assailant, particularly a woman. “Where did you get this?”

“From the police data base. Carson hacked in.”

“You sure he didn’t get, what’s that drug called…roofed?”

“Roofied.” He shakes his head. “And no. The toxicology came back clean.” He shows me that proof, too.

I lay the picture on the table and lean back in my chair. “Obviously there must be a pattern for you to come to this conclusion.”

Grant perks up. He loves patterns. He pushes a variety of information my way. It consists of a few police reports about possible robberies and assault. A small article about a missing man. Two more questionable situations that may or may not be related. The last is about a recovered body found in a parked car. “So she escalated.”

“Quickly. She went from taking their memories to the death kiss within weeks.” He hands me a printout from a social media page. It’s a photo of a college student with the word ’Missing’ at the top. “That happened yesterday.”

“Still missing?”

“As far as I know. Nothing has come in on the scanners.”

“Why do you think it was him?”

“He was out with friends at a bar, met a girl and ditched his friends for her. His roommate realized he didn’t come home the night before.”

“That’s not a big deal after meeting a girl in a bar,” I say. “Could be a regular, what do they call it? Hookup?”

“It could be, but he missed his morning workout and classes, too.” He rubs his chin. “It’s atypical behavior, according to his friends and boss.”

“Have the police connected the dots?”

He shakes his head. “No. They’re too spread apart and only a few have contacted the police. Men are less likely to report sexual assault.”

“So,” I hold up the paper. “Am I looking for him or her?”

“Amelia and I will look for him—she’s following up some leads now. You see if you can find and stop her.” He passes over a sheet of paper. His girly script lines the page. “That’s a list of the bars or gyms she’s picked her victims from.”

“Gym?” I raise an eyebrow. “You were right, this is my kind of job.”

He gives me a grim smile. “Be careful out there. She’s hungry. Gyms during daylight. Bars at night. I suspect she’s taking several victims a day and we’re only aware of a fraction of them.”

“So she’s still not killing them all?”

“No. There seems to be a specific trigger that causes her to kill, but her daytime hunger implies she’s fueling up for her nighttime victims.”

I lean back in the chair and look at my brother. “You get into some weird shit sometimes, you know that?

He laughs and spreads his hands over the evidence on the desk. “I told you I needed your help.”

I glance at the photo of the man with all the bruises and can’t help but think about the woman behind it. “Yeah, I see that.”

Chapter One

After a night of researching Succubi, I head to the gym after taking a quick hunt outside of town. Besides being hungry, Grant implied I will need maximum strength if I find her.

I have no idea who I’m looking for since the surviving victims have no memory. I assume she’s gorgeous—it’s part of the lore.

“She’s a demon,” Grant explained, passing over a crumbling leather book he got from The Council. “Genevieve sent me that when I realized what I was dealing with.”

“Demon, eh?” Sometimes I forget there are others out there. Different species from us vampires. It’s uncommon that we mix. I’m still trying to get used to the alliance we made with the Shifters down south.

“I’ve encountered one before,” he confessed. “Back when I was working in the psychiatric wards.”

Grant is the most up-tight of us all. I wouldn’t call him repressed, but the number of lovers he took over his expansive lifetime could be counted on one hand. And that included Amelia. The admission he’s encountered a Succubus before definitely intrigues me.

“She was a patient, having been institutionalized for her overt, lustful behavior—which, as you’re aware, was not acceptable at the time. We met briefly during an evaluation. I think she sensed I was different, just as I could feel the magic in her. These women are incredibly powerful. It may be equitable to my compulsion, but different.”

“How so?”

He gave me a hard look. “You know how hard it is to think with your brain when an attractive woman is around?”

“I’m perpetually sixteen. I have a boner seventy-five percent of the day.”

“Imagine that but a thousand times worse.”

I shrugged, trying to decide if that’s really a bad thing before narrowing my eyes and asking, “Dude, did you hook up with a patient?”

“No!” He looked horrified. “God, no. That’s unethical and completely inappropriate on a variety of levels, but a Succubus has a variety of powers at her disposal. One of those is dream walking.”

“Uh, you don’t sleep.”

“But I do meditate,” he countered. “And she found me in a relaxed, transcendental state. It was quite,” he grapples for a word. “Erotic.”

I wrinkled my nose, not wanting to hear any more about that encounter.

“Ultimately she tried to absorb my soul. Unfortunately for her, I lost that particular human trait long before our encounter.”

He didn’t have much to say after that other than he’d left the area soon after she made her attempt. Grant was never fond of having too many supernatural types in close proximity. I read the book sent by Genevieve and just after daybreak I left for the gym.

I push the open the gym door and step inside, grimacing at the bright, florescent lights. Recycled air pumps through the vents and I do my best to block out the overpowering stench of sweat and pheromones. I stop at the front desk for a guest pass. The girl behind the desk can’t be much older than twenty. She looks nothing like the kind of person that should work at a gym. Cute little ponytail, thin willowy arms. She has a nice smile though, and I give her one as I approach the counter.

“Hi,” I look at the attendant’s name badge, “Tina. I’m in town for a business trip and wondered if I could have a day pass?”

“Business trip?” The small brunette gives me a curious look. “Sure. Just fill this out and I’ll need to see your ID.”

I do both, filling in the false address Grant gave me before I left. Same with the ID proving I’m Ray Smith from Chicago doing some work in town with the Palmer Foundation.

“Have a good workout,” she says.

“Thanks.”

The gym is standard. I go through a regular routine, lowering the weights to an appropriate but strenuous-looking level. My muscles are with me for life, enhanced versions of the ones I had before I transitioned. We continue with what we’re born with. I got super strength.

There’s nothing unusual about the gym and I consider that this is probably a waste of time. There are hundreds of facilities in New York. This woman would be stupid to come here twice.

“Can I get a spot?” I feel a hand squeeze my bicep and turn to see a woman at my side. Blonde hair, crystal blue eyes. Certainly beautiful enough to bed any man she wants. I wait for the heat Grant warned me about to roll off of her, the pheromones or whatever she has that alludes she’s otherworldly.

I get nothing except a regular, old human vibe. She’s still hot though and I can smell the interest on her.

“Sure.”

The problem is that she’s got a good look at my face—my eyes--and her sense of self-preservation kicks in. She doesn’t know exactly what about me is the problem—she just knows I’m the scary thing that goes bump in the night.

“You know,” she jerks her thumb vaguely over her shoulder, “I just realized what time it is. I’ve got to get back to work.”

She scurries off before I can even reply. I watch her go and decide I may have better luck in a dark, seedy bar.

*

Two days and six bars later, I feel the magic the instant I walk in the door. It’s a heady feeling and my eyes scan the crowded room for the source.

The room is full of millennials, rubbing shoulder to shoulder, with various colored drinks in their hands. If I can’t find the girl, maybe I can pinpoint her mark. Tall and fit seems to be her preference. It’s possible she likes a little manhandling. It would make sense. It’s nice to find someone that can match your physical strength in bed.

I head to the bar and order a drink. The bartender eyes me skeptically. “ID?”

Okay, so maybe I do look under twenty-one.

If I were Grant I’d compel the guy into believing my age, but my compulsion skills are weak. I toss my ID on the counter and watch the room.

“I have to admit,” a voice says next to me. “I thought you looked a little young for an executive at the Palmer Foundation the other day.”

I turn to the woman next to me, recognizing her face immediately. “You work at the Fifth Street Gym. Uh, let me think…Tina, right?”

“Yep. And you work at the Palmer Foundation.” She winks. “Or that’s what your paperwork said.”

The bartender slides me the shot glass of amber liquid that does nothing to my system and is unpleasant to consume. I slam it back anyway, trying to stay in character. “I work in security. Palmer is lucky I picked him over some celebrity or rapper.”

“Is your boss as dreamy in person as he looks on the front page?”

I laugh and shake my head. “My boss has an ego the size of Manhattan. Plus he’s married.”

She shrugs. “A girl can fantasize, right?”

No offense to this little girl but she’s not even remotely Grant’s type. Amelia has that sort of natural beauty—the kind she isn’t aware of. Total girl next door. Tina? Behind the glasses and pulled back hair is an average girl our type would completely ignore—other than as a snack.

I have a better view from here and see various men and women taking part in their particular style of mating. Drinks are ordered. Women smile and flirt. Men make subtle or not so subtle gestures relaying their interest. The pheromone levels in the room spike about fifteen minutes after I arrive and I’ve zeroed in on two possible candidates. Someone in this room, other than me, is definitely inhuman.

I lay cash on the counter and nod at Tina. “Nice seeing you again.”

The crowd is thick and the music louder than just a while ago. I’m reminded of the late night, post-circus parties we had a gazillion years ago. Back then lanterns lit the tents and the predominant scent in the air was animal, but the carnival band played slow songs and that’s where I had my first kiss.

No matter the time or circumstances, people like to blow off steam after work. I just need to make sure that doesn’t involve someone getting assaulted or killed in the process.

The first couple I have my eye on disappears down the back hall of the bar. I can sense their lust but I’m not getting the feeling of magic like I did when I walked in the door. I pass by them, oblivious and gyrating against one another, fake-stumbling against them hard enough to break them apart.

“Watch it dude,” the guy says. He’s not quite as big as I am but I’d rather not get pummeled by his massive fist even if it wouldn’t hurt. The woman looks at me accusingly, her outfit tight and now that we’re closer I realize she’s definitely human. Her heartbeat races with a combination of arousal and fear.

“Sorry,” I mumble, acting drunk, pushing past them into the bathroom.

The next couple is no better. Two horny office workers looking to burn a little energy. Like the other woman, this one is attractive—exceedingly so, but decisively human. I’m about to reassess my plan. When my phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a text from Grant.

There’s been another victim.

It’s a rotten excuse to leave but I’ll take it, thinking there’s no way I can stand another minute in this place. I’m at the door when I feel a hand on my elbow. A jolt of energy surges up my limb. I look down and see Tina, awkward and blushing.

“Had enough of the meat market?” she asks. “Me too.”

“It’s not really my scene. I was just looking for someone.” I hold up my phone. “Gotta work anyway.”

“You’re going to bodyguard Mr. Palmer.”

“Well, yes, actually.” Not really, but any excuse is a good excuse. I hold up my phone. “Duty calls.”

I step out the door and she follows me out, quick like a shadow. I raise an eyebrow. “Are you following me?” I really hope not because I planned on running home. I really don’t want to get stuck in a cab.

Her cheeks turn red and the rush of blood triggers my senses. I swallow back the desire. I don’t kill or feed from humans, ever, but that doesn’t mean their blood doesn’t tempt me as much as the next vampire. Okay, well maybe not as much as Grant, but he has a weakness when it comes to damsels.

“Look,” she says, twisting her hands in front of her. “I know I sound like a stalker, but I’ve had a crush on Mr. Palmer for years. I’ve followed his philanthropy, his work with the mentally ill, the fundraisers and grants he donates to the community. Any possible way you can help me meet him? Just for a picture?”

I almost laugh and take her up on it. The thought of Grant being besieged by a fan like this is hilarious beyond measure, but he’d kill me—like literally chase me across three states and cut off my balls.

“Sorry.” I give her a sympathetic smile. “I’d lose my job and my reputation in the industry.”

“Oh,” she’s embarrassed again but in a different way. She tugs at the tip of her ponytail. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

A sleek sports car pulls up to the curb and the darkened window silently rolls down. Olivia peers at me from behind the wheel. “Ah, my ride is here.” I open the door. “Have a good night, Tina, and stay out of trouble.”

“Who was that?” Olivia asks as she revs the engine and screeches down the road. I glance in the side mirror and watch her watch us as we drive off.

“Just a human with a big fat crush on Grant.”

“Ugh,” Olivia says. “When will these girls realize looks like that are just a cover-up for a pile of neurosis? Pick a normal guy.” She glances at me. “Like you.”

“You saying I’m normal?”

She shrugs. “Is that the worst thing?”

She spins the wheel and we zip down the road.  No, being normal definitely wouldn’t be the worst thing in life. Too bad that ship sailed decades ago.

*

(flashback)

The body is in a third story walk up in SoHo. It’s a nice-looking apartment, expensive furniture, and the closet is filled with high-end, Olivia-approved clothing. Phillip Cooper is his name, and from his naked body on the bed, it’s clear he spends a fair amount of time in the gym. He fits the profile.

There’s no sign of a struggle, but there’s the scent of sex in the air. His body is fresh—he most likely died in the last five or six hours.

“How did you find him?” I ask Grant, who is rifling through the drawers in the kitchen.

“Olivia found him. She’s been trying to get a read on the case for weeks. She finally had a breakthrough.” He glances at the two recently used wine glasses on the counter. “Unfortunately, it was a little too late.”

I pick up the glass and sniff, catching a hint of dried red wine. I walk around the room looking for anything else, but Cooper’s house is pristine. I sit on the buttery-soft leather couch. I’m not used to playing detective like Grant, at least not the slow, tedious part of the job. I’m usually the brawn brought in for the fight at the end.

“How was your day?” Grant asks, moving to the glass desk near the window. “Any leads?”

I stretch on the couch, resting my hands behind my head. “Not a thing.” I reconsider. “Well, that’s not true. I was in this one bar—not that far from here, really—and I definitely caught the trace of something supernatural in the room. I thought maybe I’d cornered her but I came up empty handed.”

“Maybe it was lingering energy? Or she rubbed up against one or two people. It could have been where she met Cooper and she just left before you got there.”

“Maybe so.”

My phone falls from my pocket and slides into the seat cushion. I dig in the crevice, fishing it out, but my fingers also graze something else. I lift out a rectangular card.

“What’s that?” Grant asks.

I flip it over. “Madam Katica.”

“A brothel?”

“No,” I hand him the card. “A psychic.”

We both glance around the apartment. Everything, except the dead body in the next room, is in place. He could rival Grant for OCD but that means that whoever took his life is equally careful about leaving the scene clean. I suspect my cousin is thinking the same thing when he says, “Does he look like the kind of guy that would go to a psychic?”

“Not a chance.”

I stand, taking back the card and looking at the address down in Hell’s Kitchen. “Maybe we just found our first clue.”

Chapter Two

The parlor is basement level and the stairwell reeks of urine and sweat. It’s the kind of place I would pass by a dozen times over, never giving it a second glance, despite my history with the trade. Probably because of my history. Before I met Olivia, I never knew people could have actual psychic abilities. Of course, Olivia’s were enhanced from the vampire transition. Before that, her visions were considered a sign of her mental instability.

I open the door and bells tinkle and chime overhead, announcing my presence. The scent of sage assaults my nostrils and the strong force of powerful energy makes my hands itch in warning. There are two heartbeats pulsing deep in the parlor—as well as several more upstairs. I zero in on the strongest beat. I may have found my Succubus.

I don’t wait long before the curtain to the back shifts to the side. Dark eyes hold my gaze and a small smile plays at her lips. She rests a hand on her slim waist and says, “It’s a little late for a reading.”

“Sorry, I was just walking by and saw your sign. It was lit up.” She holds my gaze and doesn’t seem remotely afraid. A mortal would have sensed my predatory nature by now, particularly in such close quarters. This woman—she’s unaffected. “You have time?”

“Come on back.”

I follow the woman through the curtain and enter a small room filled top to bottom with kitschy decorations. Crystal orbs and half-burned candles dot the shelves. Incense wafts from a shelf next to tiny rodent skulls. The room is lit by strings of twinkling lights that give the fabric-covered walls a hazy glow. She’s nailed the look and I can’t help but smile at the idea of my mother stepping into this place.

She offers me a spot on the one of the cushioned chairs positioned around a small table. Tools of the trade sit on the flat surface: a deck of worn, rectangular Tarot cards and a small cup with a pestle inside. A red candle burns in the center, overwhelming the room with an oily scent. She watches me from across the table and asks, “This room makes you happy?” But then tilts her head. “Or sad? I can’t exactly tell.”

“Are you saying you can’t read me?” It’s possible. I’m dead after all. There’s no aura or soul to read from. No thumping heartbeat to assess. Her pulse is strong and steady. She’s not scared of me at all and as much as I’d like to deny it, her confidence is very attractive.

“I’m saying I can already tell you’re a complicated man, Mr…”

“Shaw.” I give my birth name. “Ryan Shaw.”

Her eyes reflect the candle light and she takes my hand. Electricity jolts up my arm. It’s as though my body recognizes that this is the first intimate, human touch I’ve experienced in some time. Since Amelia changed.

Her pupils dilate and I swallow back the hunger that flares in my throat. “Why does my parlor make you sad, Mr. Shaw?”

“My mother was in the trade. It reminds me of her.”

She strokes my hand. “Ah, grief, that’s understandable. Sometimes the senses overwhelm, muddying the waters of my readings.” She brings my hand to her nose and sniffs. “She died long ago, correct?”

“Yes.”

She watches me. “A tragic death?”

A flash of finding her beneath Emmanuel’s body rockets through my brain. He raped her. Drained her. Toyed with Sebastian and left me for dead. I woke, transformed, with nothing left but a destroyed family. A traumatized brother that never recovered. That night is still a curse on my family.

“You could say that.” I set my jaw, daring her to push further. She pulls back, not as unaware as I suspected.

“Tell me, Mr. Shaw,” she asks, laying my hand on the table and spreading my fingers wide, “why did you stop by my parlor tonight? There must be something you want to know.”

I say the first thing that pops in my head. “I’m looking for my brother.”

“He’s missing.” She doesn’t ask. A thin crease appears on her forehead and she traces the lines on my hand. “You were close—a twin?”

I nod.

Her eyes close and she inhales. “He’s hurt—spiritually—looking for a way to heal. But now is not the time to look for him. He must conquer his demons before facing you.”

“I just want to know if he’s safe.”

She opens her eyes. “Yes.”

I have no way of knowing if she speaks the truth. Even Olivia can’t find him. Hiding is his specialty. But Katica’s words bring me a sense of peace anyway. Maybe that’s the power behind this room. It allows us to pretend.

The bracelets on Katica’s arm clink, bringing her back in focus. “You see anything else?” I ask, flexing my hand on the table.

She splays my fingers and traces curves and a warm tingle ripples through my limbs. Not the shock from before, something different. It’s not as easy to resist. “You tell me, Mr. Shaw, what else would you like me to reveal? Your deepest desires? Your biggest wants?” She drops my hand and reaches for my collar, tugging me across the table. My eyes are glued to hers and I never want her to stop touching me.

She reaches for a small box and slides it in front of me. I glance down and see that it’s made of wood with deep, intricate carvings on the top. She opens the lid and takes out a pinch of gray powder, dropping it over my open palm like ash. I watch as she rubs the dust over my palm, highlighting the cracks and crevices of my century-old skin. I wonder if she can read the roadmap of my life. What would it be like to have someone outside my coven and The Council know?

The room grows warm and I feel a strange sensation spreading through my limbs. The sense is familiar, but ancient—sleepiness? “What is that?” I ask, my voice sounding a million miles away.

“Devil’s root,” she says, her eyes taking a hard edge. “Or as we like to call it, vampire tranquilizer. You shouldn’t have come looking for me.”

I stand but falter, gripping the edge of the table. I hear the second heartbeat now, knowing she and I aren’t alone. I’ve been set up. She knew what I am, if not who I am, all along.

“They know I’m here,” I mumble, unsure if actual words leave my tongue. I reach for her throat, but tumble forward, my massive body landing with a crash on the table. The last thing I hear is the wood snapping underneath me—then I’m gone.

*

Gentle hands press against my jaw. Warm breath wafts over my skin and my body reacts—aroused. I desperately want my mouth and hands on the person near me. I can taste them in the air, their scent and warmth. Hunger burns at my throat and runs through my loins, not a craving for blood—although that is a close second. I reach for her, unable to see. I can’t. I struggle and twist until I feel the heavy chains weighing down my wrists.

“Hey,” a soft voice whispers. “Calm down. She’ll be back soon--we only have a minute.”

I growl, snapping my teeth at the shadowy figure. My adrenaline shifts from arousal to defensive anger. A minute is all it will take for me to break these chains once the drug wears off. I yank and hear them whine from the strain.

“Ryan, stop.”

I blink, trying to see who’s speaking to me. A small, heart-shaped face with dark red lips emerges from the fog. It’s not Katica—but it is a familiar face. “Tina?” 

 “I’ll get these chains off of you but promise you’ll do what I say.”

I groan from the pounding in my head. “What if you want me to do something I don’t want to?”

“Fair, but I’m trying to help you. I think you’ll want to listen.”

I hold up my hands and she produces a key, unlocking the chains. My senses return quickly and by the time I’m standing, I feel close to normal.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“Gone. Out hunting. She’s insatiable.”

“Why didn’t she hurt me?”

“Vampires can’t be killed by our kind, and you’re not her target.”

Okay, now my head hurts again, but in a different, totally confused way. “Tina, you’re not making sense.”

“Ryan, my real name is Katica Romanov. This is my parlor. The woman you met earlier is my sister, Nika. She is a vengeful bitch and a powerful Succubus, as I think you already suspected.”

I frown, absorbing it all. Meeting Tina at the gym—the bar—it must not have been a coincidence. “If I’m not her target then who is?”

She sighs and when she gives me a knowing look, I’m not nearly as surprised as I should be when she finally says, “Grant Palmer.”

“You’re fucking with me.” Goddam Grant.

She looks up at me and I see the shimmer of power behind her own eyes. This girl has a touch of something supernatural for sure that she managed to conceal from me before. Maybe it’s real psychic abilities. From the heat building in my chest, I don’t dismiss her as a Succubus. She’s certainly doing a number on my other body parts as well. I take a deep breath and will my body to behave.

I look around the room. It’s some kind of maintenance facility, probably attached to her building. She said Nika would be back soon and I don’t want to have to kill her sister in front of her.

“You should go,” I tell her. “I can’t let her continue to harm people and it may be better if I get to her before Grant does.”

“I don’t want her to hurt anyone else either.” Her eyes carry guilt. “I never should have told her about meeting you at the gym. I thought she would think it was funny because of the way she always talks about Grant. I should have known better than to assume she had a sense of humor.”

“Leave, Katica, and let me take care of her.”

“I can’t let you kill her, Ryan. I need your help. And probably your brother’s, too.”

“He’s not my brother.”

She takes my hand, brushing off the coating of deactivated ash. “I know who you are, Ryan Shaw Palmer. I know your history and your family. Past and present. I know what you do—what Grant does—how he works to stop the violent crimes committed by those that live in the dark. I’m well aware of the sins committed by those in your coven. By your blood brother, Sebastian. I don’t want Nika dead. I need her saved and I need your help to do it.”

She’s a mixture of vulnerable and strong. Katica is a fighter, I smell it on her skin, but she’s desperate not to lose her sister. Willing to forgive her for her transgressions because she’s blood. I’ve done the same, if not worse, for Bass.

Against my judgment, I nod. “We’ll take this to Grant. I can’t cross him or The Council on this. We’re being watched carefully these days. But understand, I can’t promise anything.

She still holds my hand and squeezes. “Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

Chapter Three

After a quick call, we agree to meet Grant on the rooftop of the library. Katica and I pass the massive stone lions and move quietly around the side of the building.

“How do you plan on getting up there?” she asks.

“I plan on climbing.”

“And me?”

I offer her my hand and she frowns but takes it. In a fast, simple move I sling her over my shoulder.

“Hey!” she shouts but I’m already scaling the side of the building using the stone for hand and footholds. Her arms tighten around my neck and I feel her breath in my ear. Her heart beats like a jackhammer, vibrating off my back. At the top I flip us over the ledge, landing safely away from the edge. She loosens her grip and slides to the ground. I sense a change in her pulse, in the redness of her cheeks, and stop to look at her.

“Are you okay?” I ask, thinking maybe she’s having a heart or panic attack.

Her eyes are on fire and she balls her hand into a fist, taking a wide swing at my jaw. I let the punch land. It’s solid, but from the look on her face, painful.

“Holy shit!” she screams, her voice lost in the sounds of the city.

“What did you do that for?” I ask, taking her hand in mine, hoping to cool it with my skin. “You can’t punch me. I’m a vampire. I have impenetrable skin.”

“I’m not injured, you oaf. My body is almost as sturdy as yours. I’m pissed because you just tossed me over your shoulder like a backpack and climbed a building.” I stare at her, not fully understanding her rage. “Like a backpack,” she repeats a little slower. “And climbed. A. building.”

“And this was disturbing to you?”

“Jesus,” she mutters under her breath. “I’m not a ragdoll, Ryan, or an object to manhandle.”

It’s then that I notice Grant leaning against an air conditioning unit, watching us. I grimace, knowing he saw the whole exchange and that I’ll hear all about it later. Katica notices my change in expression and looks over.

“That’s Grant Palmer,” she says, not even hiding the awe.

“Yeah, that’s who we came here to see.” That heartbeat of hers skitters off course. “Wait, you were serious about that crush?”

She keeps her eyes on him as he walks over but nods. “As a heart attack. He’s a legend.”

“Was this just a way to get to see him? Because Katica, this isn’t a game.”

She tears her eyes away. “What? No. No. Everything I told you is true. Including my crush on Grant. I just never actually thought I’d meet him.”

I run my hands over my head and mumble to myself, “God this is weird.”

Grant reaches us and offers his hand to Katica. “I’m Grant Palmer, nice to meet you.”

“She knows who you are,” I say.

“I know. I heard.”

“You heard?” Her cheeks grow warmer. My hunger intensifies. Grant looks between the two of us with a strange expression on his face.

“Enhanced hearing,” he says with a shrug. “Ryan says you have information about the Succubus. I would appreciate anything you have to share.”

“Nika is my sister and as you’re aware, she is the one attacking men all over the city.”

Grant nods. “You said this had something to do with me? That I’m her target?”

“Haven’t you noticed her victims fit a certain type?” she asks. Grant and I share a look. There’s little doubt these men have a specific style. Clean, organized, well-groomed and fit. “There’s a reason for it and it all goes back to you. I mean, for years it was just sort of her pastime with the occasional spiral but that’s common for Succubi. The feeding—it can be like an addiction if you’re not careful. But when you moved to the city I hoped she could keep herself under control.”

Grant frowns. “Are you implying her murderous rampage has something to do with me?”

“I didn’t realize how far gone she was until I mentioned Ryan coming into the gym. I thought she would get a laugh out of the fact a Palmer Foundation ’employee’ came in for a pass.” She glances at me. “He barely looks eighteen and well, once you know how to identify a vampire they aren’t hard to miss. Especially one as big as this one.”

“Ryan came in the gym long after she started killing men, I don’t understand the connection,” Grant says. “And what do you mean ‘after all these years?’”

“I didn’t know she was killing this whole time. I thought she fed like we all do. Stolen kisses. Simple seduction. I use my parlor as a way to feed without harming anyone,” she explains. “Unlike my sister, I’m not a killer. My patrons pay me with a touch of their energy. Mutually beneficial. But when I mentioned your name to Nika, she broke down, she went into a rage, and I realized she’d developed an obsession with you again.”

I look at Grant for answers but he just shakes his head and says, “I don’t know your sister.”

Katica crosses her arms over her chest and stares at Grant, all of the fondness and school-girl crush wiped from her face. “She waited for you to come back and save her. She tiptoed through your dreams begging you to come. But you rejected her, over and over. She needed you.”

“No,” he says, but realization dawns. “If the girl I met all those years ago is your sister, I only encountered her the one time. Then when she tried to kill me. She failed because you can’t take someone’s soul twice.” He runs his hands through his hair, a signal of how flustered he is.

“In her mind, something else transpired, and the results are deadly.”

He looks at Katica. “Regardless of who is to blame, we need to stop her. Do you agree?”

She nods. “Yes. I agree.”

*

It’s determined that Katica will come home with us until we develop a plan. We can’t allow Nika to use her sister to locate Grant or harm her for releasing me. We’d rather not give her any further reason to escalate.

Amelia welcomes her into the house, showing her around and offering her the guest room at the end of the second floor hall. I’m unsure how Katica feels about being in a nest of vampires but she seems oddly at ease. I, on the other hand, feel increasingly awkward to be in her presence.

It has to be that she’s a Succubus. Even when she’s not turned ’on’, she emits something. A vibe. An energy. I feel it rolling across my skin, down my spine. I feel it everywhere.

As the females help her settle in, I take refuge in Grant’s empty office, sitting on the cracked leather sofa. Carson follows me in, a million questions spinning in his head. I can tell he doesn’t even know where to start. He’s not the only one.

“So we’re just trusting this girl?” he says first off. “Like she’s not deadly herself?”

I rub my head. “Yes.”

“And you don’t think this is a trick or something she and her sister came up with to get closer to Grant?”

He has a point. A good one, but we’ve already been over it. “Olivia and Grant both tested her. She seems legit.”

My leg bounces, vibrating the floor, making the knickknacks on Grant’s shelf wobble. His World Series signed ball falls to the floor and rolls by my foot.

“What the hell, man. You’re wound tight as a clock.”

“Screw this,” I say picking the ball up off the ground and rolling it in my hands. “I’m going to hunt.”

“What? Now?” It’s nearly dawn and not the ideal time, but I definitely need to get out of the house. Away from the waves of energy rolling off of Katica.

I barge through the door, running into Grant on the way out. I ignore him, heading down the stairs. At the front door I hear Carson ask Grant, “What’s his problem?”

“That’s what happens when you spend the evening with a Succubus and don’t get laid,” Carson replies, followed by sympathetic laughter.

I slam the door and sprint out of the city.

Chapter Four

I do not return until dark, hoping the house will be empty. I’m covered in dirt and blood, smelling of fresh kill. I ran hard, pushing and pushing until there was nothing left but me against nature.

I won.

Heading straight upstairs to shower and change, mind still flush and buzzed from my feeding rampage, I nearly knock Katica off her feet on the landing. Reflexively, I steady her back and for a beat (well, three according to her heart) we’re face-to-face and the efforts of the prior day shatter like glass, leaving me vulnerable again.

“I’m sorry,” she says, looking up at me with those piercing blue eyes. They startle me every time because I’m accustomed to the purple of my coven or the black of The Council. We learn not to look mortals in the eye because it intimidates them and they’ll flee. She stands her ground. “I can tell our proximity is hard on you.”

I release her and set her on her feet. “Maybe you can tone it down a notch.”

“You think this is something I control? Because this is nothing. You’ll know it when I actually decide to ’turn on’.”

I don’t have a reply to that other than to swallow and look at my feet. She surprises me by asking, “How long has it been for you, Ryan?”

Her hand is on my arm and I’m trying not to notice that the meek girl I’d met in the gym is no longer in front of me. Her hair is down, wavy over her shoulders. Her pants fit tight, allowing me to see the allure of her curves. I see the similarity with her sister and realize I was dead wrong about her attractiveness.

“How long for what?” I ask, my voice raw.

“Since you’ve been with a woman you’re this attracted to?”

I push her away, gruff, but knowing after the punch the night before, she can handle my strength. I’m unwilling to play her mind games. It makes me think of Sebastian and his complicated view of love and sex. The consequences of those views are why he left. I don’t want that in my life or relationships.

I don’t need that kind of drama in my life no matter how much she winds me up.

 Climbing the next flight of stairs, I enter my room, stripping off the foul clothing. Blood soaked patches of fabric stick to my skin, while the shredded parts just fall to the ground like paper. I toss it all in the trashcan and walk into the bathroom.

I shower for a long time—way past the point of warm water—and try to collect myself. I’m working on a case. An important one involving several murders and multiple counts of violations. Grant is a target and in the end we’ll probably have to take Nika down. There is no way, no possible way, I can screw her sister without causing a heap of trouble.

Basically, that’s what I thought about in the shower. Not screwing Katica.

I dry off and dress in clean clothes. Walking into my room my eyes go directly to the brunette sitting on the bed. My bed. My heart doesn’t beat anymore but I swear for one minute it kicks into gear, until I realize  it’s not Katica. It’s Amelia. She looks grim.

“What’s wrong?”

“Grant found Nika and needs your help.”

“Alive?”

She nods. “Yes, she’s alive. For now.”

“I’ll get ready.”

Movement at the door catches both of our attention and we glance over. Katica stands in the threshold arms crossed over her chest. “I’m going with you.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea? Grant trusts you but if you do anything to screw this up, we’ll all pay.” I make a face. “He can be a bit of a diva, sometimes.”

“Hey!” Amelia says. “Be nice.”

“I promise I only want to help,” Katica says.

I nod. “Meet me downstairs.”

She leaves and Amelia gives me an odd look.

“What?” I ask. I go to the closet where I keep my personal weapons. Two knives go in my boots.

“You and Katica—what’s that all about?”

I shrug. “Succubus voodoo. I’m ignoring it.” 

“You sure?” she asks. “Because you’ve been acting weird ever since she came here.”

No. I’m not sure about anything right now. “Look, I got whammied by her and her older and more skilled sister. A lesser man would have caved days ago.”

“So you’re just being strong.”

I slip on my leather jacket. “Yep. Like an ox. There’s no way I’m letting that little girl in my head.”

“Or much less in your heart,” Amelia adds. I shoot her a glare. She holds up her hands. “Okay, okay. Not my business.”

I grab my bag of supplies—everything we may need to bring Nika in alive—and head toward the door. Amelia zips ahead of me and blocks my exit.

“What?”

“Just know that it’s okay to let someone in. That not everyone seeking a closer relationship is manipulative and evil.” She’s talking about Sebastian and Emmanuel.

“She is evil,” I retort, swinging the bag over my shoulder. “She’s a Succubus, who charms the lives and souls of her victims for energy. A parasite.”

“And we’re not?”

I grind my teeth. “I can’t, Amelia. Not now. Probably not ever.”

I push past her and head down the stairs. Hopefully by day’s end, both of these women will be out of our lives for good.

Chapter Five

The car ride is silent until Katica states in a flat voice, “My sister believes Grant Palmer ruined her life.”

I glance at her. She’s staring straight ahead. “Grant admits he met her long ago, but their encounter was brief and it ended when she dream walked and tried to take his soul.”

“Which she couldn’t,” Katica says, “because he was already dead.”

“Correct.”

“She was probably too out of her mind to realize that he was a vampire at the time, or too drugged.” She sighs and brushes her hair out of her eyes. Shampoo and her natural scent assault me in the confined vehicle. “I guess I knew something was off. The irrational behavior comes and goes. And sometimes it’s hard to tell what is just her being dramatic and what’s her being on the edge of sanity. She’s killed before but it was sporadic. We were able to clean up the mess and change towns. I didn’t know you lived here until that day you walked into the gym.”

“Why do you work there?” I ask. She and Nika could acquire money many other ways.

“To get away from her. Away from the parlor and our legacy. It’s a heavy weight sometimes.”

I nod. “Yes it is.”

We find them in a Palmer Foundation building near the docks. Grant owns property all over the city—all over the world—and this one is in close proximity to where he captured Nika.

I hear them before we step inside and I hold my hand up to Katica, wanting her to wait. “If Nika sees you, she may be unwilling to cooperate.”

“Nika will not cooperate regardless, but I see your point. I’ll wait here.”

I find Grant down a short flight of metal stairs peering into a small cell. The walls are brick but bars separate Nika from the two of us. She prowls the cell like a caged animal, emitting strong magic in an attempt to overpower us. I hold my hand up as a shield, like that will work. It doesn’t. It only takes a second for lust and desire to compete for sensibility in my brain.

Grant seems completely unaffected and stares at her with a tight jaw, arms crossed over his chest.

“Does that really not bother you?” I ask, willing my body into submission. To put it plainly, I feel like a real eighteen-year-old boy dealing with a throbbing erection.

“No,” he replies, but I hear the strain in his voice. Good, maybe Grant isn’t a robot after all.

Her dark eyes are wild and her lip is bloody. I sniff out the long, healing cut down Grant’s neck, proving she’s stronger than I expected. Getting a shot in on him, in any form, is the sign of a powerful fighter. There’s much I don’t know about these people.

Her eyes lock with mine and she looks me up and down. “Where’s my sister?”

“Safe.”

Nika laughs. “You two have no idea what you’ve stepped into. So foolish.”

“Where’s the body?” Grant says, going back to the conversation I interrupted when I walked in. “I can’t allow another victim to die at your hand.”

“My hand? I’ll allow the blame to land squarely on you. You’re the one that started this. Not me.” She shifts her gaze to me. “Do you even know this man you call your brother? Do you know the evil he has permitted over the decades? How he allowed me and others to waste away in that hell hole?”

“Grant is a lot of things,” I tell her from my spot leaning on a desk. “An egotistical, obsessive-compulsive, anal-retentive bastard. He gets singularly focused on whatever issue he’s having and drags the rest of my family right into the middle of it. Sometimes people get hurt. But I know he’s saved more people than the years he’s lived—including myself. I also know he isn’t a liar. He owns up to his mistakes. I don’t believe for a minute he intentionally hurt you.”

Grant’s hands clench. Just an inch, but I see it. I hurt him, but he needs to hear the truth. He’s the one that drove Sebastian away and into the arms of that psychopath Emmanuel, all because he couldn’t give Amelia up.

“You’re pathetic. Both of you,” she says, spitting at the ground. “Weaklings ruled by love and devotion. You’ll never find my last victim—which is unfortunate because he may still be alive.” She licks her lips and an evil fire lights in her eyes. “I wasn’t quite done with him yet.”

Grant snaps, rushing at her cage. He stares her right in the eye, fighting back against the seductive magic she exerts. I don’t know how he resists it, because I’m nearly overcome just being in the blast zone. My time near Katica made me vulnerable, but I also don’t have a mate like Amelia to take it out on.

“I’ll find him,” Grant says, inches from her face. “And then you’ll be at the hand of my version of justice. You’re a sick woman Nika, but we can’t allow you to roam the streets.”

Grant’s phone vibrates in his pocket. The chime signals Olivia is calling. He inhales and walks away. “There’s still time,” he says to Nika.

“No, there really isn’t.” She juts her chin in the air with defiance.

We head upstairs and Grant locks the door behind us. He pulls out his phone and reads the message Olivia sent him. “She has a lead on the victim.”

“What do you need me to do?” I ask.

“Stay here with him. Keep Katica close, but don’t let them alone with one another. There’s food and water in the other office, a camera on the cell, and a screen to watch it on. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I grab his arm before he walks off. “I’m sorry about that back there.”

He gives me a grim look. “I understand, Ryan. I really do. And nothing you said about me is untrue. Those are my flaws. I’m working on them.”

With the help of Amelia he is changing, I can admit that. “I have a shit-ton of flaws, too. Thank God we have an eternity to work through them.”

He pulls me into a hug and says, “I never had a brother like you had Sebastian. Thanks for kicking my ass every once in a while.”

I squeeze him tight. “Anytime.”

He walks out the door, passing Katica on the way. He gives her a polite nod and soon I hear the squeal of tires as he races toward Olivia.

“Is everything okay in there?”

“You sister is fine. Stubborn and more than a touch insane, but she’s unharmed.” I consider the busted lip. “Well, she may have taken a punch but she left her mark on Grant. I’d call it even.” I point to the stairs. “There’s an office up there we can wait in until Grant gets back. We can see her on the cameras.”

She follows me to the second floor and we find the small office is more of a suite. It has a kitchenette and a small seating area with a wide screen TV. There’s no bed—we don’t need them. A desk with monitors shows recordings of every angle of the building, including Nika’s small cell.

Katica stares at the monitor watching her sister as she paces the cell.

“You would think time would make us better at relationships, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

I sit on the couch and stretch my legs on the leather covered ottoman. “No. It doesn’t.” She leaves the desk and takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch. The hot pulse between us ebbs and flows. “When were you born, Katica? Were you alive when Nika was in the asylum?”

“No,” she says. “We have different fathers. I was born in 1963.”

“Ah,” I smile. “Just a babe then.”

“It seems like it at times,” she agrees. “Nika has so much power that I feel helpless at times. It grows with each passing year, amplifying as we cross different thresholds.”

“You seem powerful enough to me.”

“Do I?” She tilts her head, biting down on her red, puffy lip. “With my looks I’ll never amount to her level. I mean, I’m not sure I want to. This life is confusing and I’ve struggled since the beginning. There’s a moral conflict with my desires versus what’s right and my sister thinks it’s nothing more than a personal weakness.” The confusion I’m feeling must be clear on my face. “Nika and my mother can have whatever human they want. All they have to do is walk in the room and men and women throw themselves at their feet. There’s no moral ambiguity. No second thought. Nika is greedy, which is another reason she’s in this mess, but I struggle to even meet their most basic expectations.”

I shift to look at her better. “We all make choices, Katica. My family and our habits are definitely not the norm. We feed from animals. We live amongst and work with humans. We don’t hurt them. Ever. It’s okay if you have different ideas from your sister and mother.”

“I know that,” she says, utterly unconvincing.

“And this other thing?” I say carefully. “About your looks and your skills as a Succubus? That’s bullshit.”

She stares at me for a brief second before crumbling into laughter, silly giggles that remove the tension from the room and make me wonder if she’s as insane as her sister. I watch, wide-eyed, as she wipes her eyes and nose and inhales deeply. “Thank you for that. I needed it.”

“What are you talking about?” Yep, crazy. It must run in the family. She moves closer to me and I feel for the knife in my boot.

“You’re sweet. I should have known the Palmer boys know how to flatter a woman. I appreciate it.” She reaches for my hand and gives it a little squeeze.

The pressure on my skin is the tipping point and I tug her closer, restraining myself. I rest her hand on my chest and I search her eyes. I count the number of heartbeats, the depth of her breath. I try to measure, to understand, to clear my muddled mind. I inhale her scent—processing the lack of fear, adrenaline, pheromones. My mind swirls and my body aches.

Finally, because I have no fucking clue, I say, “Tell me you feel it.”

She blinks. “I feel it.”

“Are you doing it? Are you messing with me?” I ask. “I won’t get angry. I don’t even care. I understand, but I feel like I’m going crazy.”

She doesn’t answer, but the next wave of lust crashes between us and it’s far more than I can handle. Roughly, I push her across the couch. She lands with a soft thud, her eyes still pinned to mine. The predator rises and in this very moment I’m more of a danger to her than she is to me.

She sits upright, the creamy skin of her cleavage taunting me. She’s unafraid and licks her lips before dragging me on top of her, with more strength than I knew she had. Her lips and hands are greedy and I flip her to her back, unwilling to crush her with my body. But I sure as hell don’t want her away from my touch.

Her legs straddle my hips and when her mouth connects with mine my brain blanks beneath a haze and my dick grows hard. Okay, hard-er. I’ve never wanted someone so much in my life. So much it hurts. So much the pain slip-slides into delicious euphoria and I’m ready to consume her.

There’s a push-pull between us, something I’ve never experienced. The Succubus magic weaves around us, I blink, looking at her through the fog of lust. Katica’s eyes burn blue, her lips darker. I run my hand down her side, feeling the curve of her breasts, and the heat of her body pressing down on the hard shaft in my pants is glorious.

 She kisses my lips, biting down with sharp teeth. I groan, bucking against her, hating the cloth between us. I paw at her shirt and she removes it quickly, dropping it to the floor. Her pants come next and I can’t get enough of her body. The curve and fullness of her breasts. The rounded arc of her hips. I run my hands over her skin, tugging at the lace on her bra, exposing her nipples.

I swallow and lick my lips. She bares her teeth.

Holy mother of God.

I’m plotting the two steps it will take to get my pants off without losing a second of sensation before burying myself deep in her body when she leans over and licks my ear. My whole body shivers in reaction.

She watches me carefully before running her nails down my chest, fingers lingering around my nipples and the hair under my belly. My abdomen dips—every single nerve on fire. “Take off your pants,” she commands.

I do it, standing over the couch. When my cock springs free, she grabs for it with a smile.

This is no shy human. Not the silly, demure little girl I spoke with in the bar. Any reservations about that fade away as she strokes my dick with a skilled touch. I see what she is in her movements. In her eyes.

“Feed from me.”

That snaps me into the now.

“What?”

“I’ve fed from hundreds of men. Thousands. Take from me. I want to know how it feels.”

Beneath her rising breasts I hear the hammering of her heartbeat. I touch her chin, “It’s too dangerous, love.”

“You think you’ll hurt me?”

God, her lips. I kiss her before answering and then push my fingers between her legs. For a brief moment I would do anything she wants. “It’s dangerous. And it’s difficult to restrain…myself. Especially in a state like this.”

She responds with a simple spark-filled kiss and no matter how hard I try I can’t get the seed unplanted. I want to taste her. I want to drink and lick and consume her blood. Feel the hot, sticky liquid on my tongue before it coats the back of my throat.

A switch flips and we’re no longer on the couch. She’s light as a feather and I’ve pinned her against the wall, hands pressing against her hips. The days and days of blistering arousal come to a violent peak and even though I know she’s done this to me, using magic and seduction as a tool, I don’t care. I rest my forehead against hers as she wraps her legs around my waist.

“Do it,” she begs, her breath hot against my mouth. “Do it.”

I don’t know if she means she wants me to fuck her or to bite her but I go with the former and the way her breath catches in her throat makes me think I’ve chosen correctly.  Her teeth bear down, sharp against my ear. Her skin grows slick with sweat, emitting a musky smell that nearly gets me to do whatever she wants. I swallow back the desire to bury my teeth as well as my cock in her lithe, welcoming body.

 Forehead to forehead we fuck, slamming sloppily into one another. I grip her hips and she takes me in, panting and digging her nails into my lower back. We’re breast against chest and I want them in my mouth, I want to taste every inch of her skin, but a burning fire pools in my abdomen and there’s the familiar coiling sensation in my balls. Her thighs squeeze and quick breaths signal she’s close, but goddamn I’m probably closer and I hold and hold and hold until I feel her pulse and tighten, my name whispered cries that bring my final, frantic release.

I pin her to the wall with my body, her frame weightless against my might. Her heartbeat tells me she’s human—but at the same time she’s not. No human can withstand a vampire’s lust at such a level. I didn’t hold back—other than the bite—Katica gave as much as she took. For a brief second I’m overcome with emotion—with the loss of the rhythm and the warm, erotic connection I want nothing more than to hold on to the lingering sensation of being in this woman.

I release her and set her on the ground. Her hands grip me on the biceps. “Ryan,” she says through raw, swollen lips, “that was—”

Whatever she’s about to declare is cut off by the sound of the door crashing in and Amelia following with barely a glance in our direction. She passes by and I press my body against Katica, giving her coverage. We’re ignored as she marches to the computer monitors, spinning it around.

“I hope that was worth it,” she says looking at me. She points to the monitor and I see it is the one viewing Nika’s cage. Nika’s empty cage. “Because while you were up here falling for baser instincts she escaped and Grant has gone radio silent.” She shifts her gaze to Katica. “You better not have put my family in peril or there will be hell to pay.”

“Amelia,” I say but she holds up her hand.

“Put some freaking clothes on, Ryan, and meet me downstairs. And don’t,” she says to me in a frightening tone I’ve never heard from her before, “not for a minute, take your eyes off of her.”

*

The others are downstairs with Amelia. Carson and Olivia, who give me a distinct look of frustration. I’m glad I can’t blush, because right now I would be red with shame. Not because of the sex. I live in a nest of horny, mated vampires. That’s the least of my concerns. The fact I got drawn into Katica’s spell reveals a weakness I’m not used to admitting.

“I’m sorry,” I tell Amelia, leaving Katica under Olivia’s watchful eye. “That was stupid.”

“You’re certainly not the first male in history to lose their mind around a beautiful woman. Especially one with Succubus mojo.”

“I didn’t know she was playing me. I mean, maybe?”  I rub my head, the fog waning.

Amelia’s eyes soften. “I’m not sure she was. But we can’t take any chances.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Olivia will stay with Katica. You, me, and Carson will scour the city and find Grant. Then we deal with Nika.”

I glance over my shoulder at Katica. She’d hoped to save her sister but going after one of our own was a bad move.  I ask Amelia, “Do you know where Grant is?”

“Carson put trackers on our cars, electronics, and even some of our clothing after what happened with Caleb.” My first thought is of Sebastian. If he’d stuck around for just a little longer he’d have a tracker, too, and I’d at least know where he’d gone. Amelia must read my thoughts because she squeezes my forearm. “We’ll get everyone back, okay?”

“Okay,” I agree, knowing it’s not so easy.

We join the others and Katica catches my eye. My family moves to the door, planning our next move. I can’t help but walk over to the woman I’d just experienced the best sex of my very long life with. Conflicting emotions war as I approach. “Did you use me to help her escape?”

She shakes her head. “Not intentionally. Nika is very strong, but our,” she glances at her feet, “arousal and joining probably gave her the extra energy boost she needed to break out.”

“She felt that? Us?”

“Certainly. It was more combustive than I’ve ever experienced, Ryan. I had no idea it could even be like that.” Her hands are in her pockets and I wish, desperately, that I could touch them. She looks up at me with sad, confused eyes. “Please don’t let them destroy her.”

“I can’t promise that. It won’t be my call.”

“I can restrain her,” she says, clutching at my jacket. “I can call for help. I just wanted to try to help her on my own.”

A wave of emotion builds and crests. I place my hand over Katica’s and remove her fingers. “I’ll do what I can, but understand, my coven comes first.”

She nods. “I understand.”

I want nothing more than to kiss her but I don’t know what’s real and what’s magic. Olivia approaches us and to me says, “It’s time for you to go.” She pulls me into a hug and says in my ear. “Good luck. I’ll take care of her.”

“Thank you,” I reply, giving her a last squeeze. Amelia and Carson are already outside and as I walk to meet them I understand a little bit better why Grant made some of his choices over the last several years.

Chapter Six

It’s night and we choose to go on foot, following the tracking devices as well as Nika’s scent. We weave through the city until we come to a massive high rise, the kind only the most powerful and rich live in.

People like Grant Palmer.

“What was it like,” Carson asks on the way over. There’s no mistaking what he’s talking about. I consider keeping it to myself, but he rolls his eyes and I cave.

“You wouldn’t believe it. I’ve never experienced anything like it.”

“That good?”

“Epic. Mind-blowing. I’d probably give my right hand just to do it once more.” Remember, I basically grew up with whores. Dirty, taboo sex is something I’ve experienced. This was a thousand times more.

He lifts an eyebrow but says nothing.

Security is tight but with the three of us together we manage to compel the guard into letting us pass. In the elevator Carson studies the buttons, eventually pressing the forty-sixth floor. “Her oils,” he explains. “She leaves a distinct trace. I think it’s a magical residue.”

The elevator zips toward the sky, but glides to a stop. The doors open and we quickly assess that there are only four homes on this floor. We follow Amelia to the right and she stops in front of a deep brown mahogany door. She looks like a complete badass—nothing like the frail girl that Grant introduced us to several years before. Black leather pants and boots that rise up to her knees. Her hair hangs down her back, golden and bright. She looks every bit the vengeful angel on a mission to find her mate.

 “Don’t let her distract you,” she says to the two of us, but her violet eyes only meet mine.

Carson replies, “I’m a one woman man and like my balls too much to stray an inch. You two get Grant. I’ll take Nika.”

Amelia grips the door handle and twists hard, snapping the lock. We enter the home, stepping on gleaming marble floors. The sound of angry voices leads us through the foyer and living room and a short flight of stairs. Lust rolls off the room we’re looking for in waves and I feel Amelia stiffen next to me. God knows what we’ll find in that room. Grant is a rock, but I thought I was too—until I met Katica.

Carson pushes open the door, revealing Grant stripped to his shorts and bound with shimmering silk rope to a massive iron bed. Nika is also on the bed, dressed in nothing but what appears to be miniscule strips of lace. She crawls over Grant’s body, fingering the waistband of his shorts. She leans forward, lips close to his. I want to say he fights her, but from the tent in his shorts to the heated glaze in his eyes, he doesn’t. He wants her. Bad.

“Oh shit,” Carson mutters.

“Get. Off. My. Husband,” Amelia cries before launching herself at the bed. Nika doesn’t move, wanting to seal the kiss with Grant, but Amelia lands full force against her body, knocking to the floor. Carson gets to her first, jumping on Nika’s nearly naked body on the floor. She fights back with a wave of lust and they scramble on the floor. She claws at his face, sharp nails leaving a wake of red across his skin. He curses and punches her in the jaw, not giving one care that she’s a woman. That’s what got us here in the first place. Underestimating these women and their enormous strength. She claws again but he’s fed up and he flips her on her stomach, face down, smashing her seductive, deadly lips into the rug.

“Get that rope,” he says, grunting against her writhing body.

I remove the binds from Grant’s wrists, while Amelia releases his feet. I take that same rope and loop it around Nika’s wrists. He does the same to her ankles and within minutes she’s hogtied on the floor. Frankly, with her ass in the air and the heat still permeating off her body, the position isn’t helping. From the way Carson shifts his trousers, I know he feels the same.

With Grant released and redressing, Amelia walks over and lifts Nika’s chin in the air, slapping her cheek with a resounding crack. “That’s for getting your slutty, dirty hands on my husband.”

I sniff and see the naked body of a man lying on the floor, his heartbeat faint. 

Grant notices and says, “I stopped her from killing him, but she caught me unaware.”

I run my hand over my face. “Trust me—you’re not the only one caught with their pants down today.”

Amelia instructs Carson to gag and blindfold Nika. She then walks over with her hands on her hips. Grant glances guiltily at his wife. “I’m sorry. Things got a little out of hand.”

“Both of you need to get your dicks under control,” she says, glaring at the two of us.

Grant blanches at her language but I bark out a laugh and yank her into a tight hug. She’s such a welcome addition to the family and thank god we had her with us today. Carson stands over her body and says, “What do we do with her now?”

“I’d like to talk to Katica first.” I look around the skeptical faces of my family. “Please. She told me there were options other than killing her. I feel like we would appreciate the same respect.”

“Inter-demon relations is important. Particularly if we plan on broadening our reach. It’s better to cover our bases,” Grant agrees.

“Fine, go talk to her,” Amelia says, although she looks like she’d prefer handling it herself. “I’ll stay here. Carson, you get that man to the hospital.” She glances over at her husband, who is furiously trying to tame his hair in the large mirror against the wall. “You? Go take a shower. You smell like sex and dark magic.”

Chapter Seven

Olivia meets me at the door, well aware that everyone is okay. I step past her and say, “Grant will give Katica an opportunity, but only one. And it better be good.”

“I like her,” Olivia says, following me into the living room. Her long legs make her nearly as tall as I am and her hair shines fiery red. “She’s good for you.”

“I’m not sure what I’m dealing with here is a matter of ‘like’ or not.”

“Well it’s possible to fall in love at first sight. It’s happened before.”

I stare at Olivia. “I’m not talking about love. I’m talking about lust. Sex. Thinking with my dick and nothing else. She worked her Succubus voodoo on me and it almost got Grant killed. I’m not sure why you’re in favor of this.”

“Is it wrong for me to want you to be happy?”

“Is that what you think? That I’m not happy?”

“What I think is that you’ve built up a wall since Bass left and that woman may be the only one that can break through,” she says.

“It was sex, Liv. The emotions brought out weren’t real. And yeah, after what Sebastian went through with Emmanuel, living under his compulsion—I don’t want anything to do with magic like that. I let it go too far already.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Probably,” I agree, feeling too tired to fight about this anymore. “Where is she?”

“In the shower.” I lift an eyebrow—she isn’t to be left alone. “It’s fine. She’s not going anywhere, Ryan. She’s not her sister.”

“Thank God for that. Nika is a piece of work.”

“She needs help with her powers,” Olivia says quietly. “Adapting to them can be hard. Not all of us have a Grant or Miles to help us learn to control our base urges.”

I feel awful then, having forgotten completely about Olivia’s time in the institution where Grant discovered her. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless.”

“Imagine that,” she mutters, but there’s a glint in her eye. She isn’t angry. She just wants me to remember how lucky we are. “We all have dark histories. I have my past and you and Sebastian had yours. Don’t make that dictate your future.”

“Are you done?”

“Yes.”

“Then move so I can go talk to her.”

“Do you mean talk or ‘talk’?” She makes finger quotes around one of the words. I pick a small, Dutch figurine off the table and hurl it as hard as I can. She snatches it out of the air without missing a beat.

“Pants on,” I declare as a reminder to myself, despite my big talk.

A moment later I’m wavering on my decision about the pants. I stand outside Katica’s room, the scent of soap and shampoo rich and alluring. None of it covers her particular heady scent that after our physical encounter has ingrained in my mind.  The predator listens to her heartbeat. The man fights his desires. I knock and brace myself.

The door opens and she stands before me, wearing an outfit Olivia must have given her. The skirt flows to her knees and the thin white tank allows for more exposed skin than I was planning on. A bead of water rolls down her arm from the ends of her still-damp hair. Without thinking, I catch the water with my finger, wiping it off her skin.

A fire broils between us.

“You’re back,” she says.

“Your sister is alive.”

“Thank you for saving her. I’m so sorry for what she’s done. But,” she says, looking at me with those intense blue eyes, “I have a solution. Something I think we should try.”

“Get ready and you can tell Grant. I can’t guarantee he’ll agree to your idea.”

“I know.”

I turn to leave her so she can get ready but when I reach the stop of the stairs she’s still standing in the door, her bare feet pressing into the carpet. I pause but before I can speak she simply says, “Again, thank you for saving her.”

“You’re welcome, Katica,” I reply, knowing already what I’m going to have to do.

Chapter Eight

We’re back at the building on the docks. Nika is secured, this time using stronger binds and an electrified grid Carson hooked up. Katica and I keep our distance now that we know our lust fueled  Nika’s rage enough for her to escape.  It’s here that Katica reveals her idea to the coven.

“Just like your Council we, too, have a governing body,” she says. “It’s not quite as formal as yours, but it’s an organization that cleans up the messes of demons when things reach an extreme level.”

“Like killing several rich, white men across the city?” Carson asks.

“Yes, exactly like that.” She looks at Grant. “Or when a psychotic vampire murders people across the south. They followed that as well. We all did.”

We’ve lived in our bubble for so long, the fact she’s aware of our coven’s flimsy ties to The Council is jarring. From the looks on the others faces I’d say they were surprised as well.

Katica continues, “I’d like to call them in to deal with my sister. It’s something I should have done a long time ago—before things got so out of hand. I just thought—”

“That you should handle it because you’re family,” Grant says. “I understand. We try to keep things quiet, too. It doesn’t always work.”

“Is this what happened to Nika when she was institutionalized the first time?” Amelia asks. I’d never considered this angle, and although I’ve avoided making eye contact since we arrived I look to Katica for her response.

“Binges like this are not uncommon. The power received from the Death Kiss is unequaled, or so I’m told. But it ignites a craving and like all addictions it’s difficult to stop once you start. I wasn’t alive when she was institutionalized all those years ago.” She nods at Grant. “Not when she met you the first time, but she murdered enough men that humans noticed.”

“No one called in your organization to handle it back then?” Olivia asks.

“No. Once my mother was able to release her from the facility she thought she could take care of it. And she did. Until recently. Maybe living in the same city and seeing Grant triggered something.”

We agree on a course of action. Katica calls her people and Grant will negotiate the terms of her release. He suggests that Carson, Olivia, and I leave, not wanting to give up too much of our coven’s structure and identity.

Katica follows me outside. “Thank you for all your help. I’m not sure Grant would have agreed if you hadn’t pushed him.”

I shake my head. “Grant doesn’t listen to anyone. He tends to do the right thing on his own.”

“You’re important to him. To everyone in the family. I can see it in the way you respect one another.”

I laugh, because respect may be a stretch. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

“Olivia told me about your brother.” I want to get angry about that, but Olivia’s meddling is legendary and her heart is usually in the right place. Plus what happened with Sebastian isn’t a secret. “It makes sense why you’ve been so supportive.”

I shrug. “Maybe.”

She touches my arm and I feel the heat build between us. I look at her eyes and try to figure out what’s real and what’s magic. It’s impossible to know. “Is your brother why you’re so distant?”

I frown and fight the urge to step away. I don’t want to be alone, but I don’t know what to trust either. “Sebastian fell for an abuser who used compulsion to destroy our lives. Despite my moment of weakness, I can’t be with anyone that uses magic like that.”

“You have abilities.”

“No. The others do. My enhancement comes from strength and speed. What you see is what you get. There’s no manipulation.”

“And you think I’m manipulating you?” she asks. The hurt is evident in her voice.

“I’m not sure you can help it.” I run my hands through my hair. “And I’m not sure I know how to resist you one way or the other.”

She looks up at me. “Would that be so bad?”

“Goodbye Katica. I wish you well.” I walk away without answering her question. 

Crammed in the back, I stare out the car window while Olivia drives back to the brownstone. “Do you think you’ll see her again?” Carson asks.

Every fiber in my being screams yes, but Katica and I are from two different worlds. What we experienced was based on chemistry and magic.

“No.”

“We went over this,” Olivia says, zipping into a dark tunnel. “You like her. You should pursue it.”

Carson catches my eye in the mirror and I see the sympathy that my family has carried for me since Sebastian left. I don’t want another weight on their shoulders. I certainly don’t need another one on mine.

*

Fall arrives and with it the leaves drop and scatter across the pavement. The city still stinks, but this time of year is preferable to the sweltering heat of the summer. I arrive at the building and stand at the top of the stairs. The light is on, humming with a soft buzz.

Pedestrians pass by me having no idea that the hulking man loitering outside a palm reader’s parlor is scared shitless.

My phone chimes and it’s Olivia.

Stop standing there like a weirdo stalker.

Fine.

The text is the boost I need and I descend the stairs and open the door, entering the eclectic waiting room. One heartbeat thrums down the hall. The rhythm is familiar—each person having their own signature. The sound alone lures me from my spot by the door, through the beaded curtain and down the narrow hall.

Katica sits at the little table where I met her sister. Shiny orbs reflect the tiny lights and candles scattered through the room. It’s as though she’s waiting for me, although she does look a little surprised when I step in the room.

“Hi,” I say, lacking a witty greeting. I lean my shoulder against the wall.

Her eyes rake over me. It’s been months since we’ve seen one another. Months since I got my head on straight—or tried to at least.

“Ryan Shaw.” She continues her task of shuffling a deck of large Tarot cards on the desk. “It’s been a while.”

I sit without invitation, trying to avoid the soft curve of her collarbone and the sweet scent of her skin. Her fingers are quick and nimble and I recall the way her nails scraped down my chest and how soft and perfect her touch was when she reached for me.

Yeah, I shift in the seat, my cock definitely remembers, too.

“Grant says that Nika is fully entrenched in her rehabilitation.”

“I saw her a week ago. She’s less angry than she was when we first sent her to the retreat.” They call it the retreat, but it’s really a cabin up in rocky peaks of the Alps. Away from society, Nika will learn to control her abilities. When she’s ready she can reenter society. “Although her feeding had reached addictive and dangerous levels she still must refuel. They allow her to feed reasonably from volunteers from the village below.”

I can’t help but laugh. “What kind of self-sacrificing village is that?”

“Do you not know?” She tilts her head quizzically and a tendril of her hair slides down her throat. The candles cast a glow to her cheeks.

“No.”

“This village has spent centuries in service to the Succubus retreat. They fulfill many roles but their strongest are raised specifically to be feeders.”

 “Lucky bastards,” I mumble, thinking there are worse jobs to have.

She lifts an eyebrow and I feel the tension twist between us. “They’re a devoted community and well taken care of. Together they meet one another’s needs in specific, intertwined ways.”

 I lean over the table. The heat from the candle washes over my face and I ask, “What about you? Are your needs being met?”

Her eyes flare blue and her lips tremble. I wait for the power surge to come from her—for the compulsive desire to overtake me. Her hands grip the sides of the table and she’s holding back. Everything I feel comes from within, deep in my bones, tight in my balls. It bubbles in my cold, useless heart.

“I’m not doing anything,” she whispers. Her eyes twinkle in the candlelight. “Not on purpose.”

I blow out the candle between us and shove the table aside with lightning speed. She’s already lunging toward me and I yank her forward, pulling her in my lap. Her mouth attacks mine, and God, she’s the sweet relief I’ve been seeking for months and months. Her fingers rake through my hair and I squeeze the swell of her ass. Every time she moves my cock hardens and I pull her down, wanting…so much wanting.

“I missed you,” she admits in a heavy breath.

I lick her neck. I suck her ears. I yank the blouse off her shoulders, buttons spraying across the room with tiny clinks. I tear the straps off her bra, one by one. “I’ll buy you another,” I mutter, cupping her breasts in my hands. Her nipples are pert and hard and all it takes is a swipe over the top to get her to grind against me the way I want. I groan against her neck.

“I need to be in you,” I tell her, going for her thin, cotton pants. I shred them off, tearing the sides with a loud, quick rip. “I need to fuck you.”

She stands and lowers my own pants but my mouth never leaves her skin. I suck her tits and reach for the hot flesh between her legs. She’s wet, and when we’re both naked and bare, I position her over me and she sinks down, taking me whole.

She gasps and I open my eyes to look at her face. We’re nose to nose, joined in the most intimate way, and I don’t see compulsion in her eyes. No manipulation. Just something else I can’t identify. Her eyes are soft, her mouth wet and open and with both arms linked around my shoulders she starts to move, riding me slow and easy.

I rest my hands on her hips, pulling her to me, feeling the soft, electric graze of her nipples against my chest. She arches her back, dark hair cascading over her shoulders and I watch her every movement, leaning against the seat for a better view.

She’s a goddess on top of me, dripping with the power and confidence of the ancient gods. She’s a queen, and I rub my hands over every inch of her until she starts to shiver and quake.

“Ryan,” she cries, squirming and riding me with delight. Her hips jerk, and her tits bounce and the coiling starts in the pit of my stomach, in my balls, and I squeeze my eyes tight trying to hold on just a little longer.

I’m pent up and about to explode when I stand and carry Katica to the table I’d pushed aside earlier. I lay her on her back and take her standing, her legs wrapped around my waist. Neither of us will last long. No, we’re both already on the edge, teeth clenched. My hands hold her sweat-slicked hips. Hers grip the table.

She succumbs first, crying out for me to go harder. I want to hold back, worrying about my strength and harming her but she begs for more.  “It’s too much,” I tell her.

“I won’t break,” she says, her eyes flaring blue, and I realize there’s another side to her mystical powers. One that’s not about manipulation or deceit.

“You asked for it,” I say, slamming into her again and again, feeling her fall apart beneath me. She pants and groans, licking her lips as her eyes close and her body clenches. I thrust into her until my own climax grips me and I grit my teeth, coming hard. I pull her as close as I can get her.

I release her body, falling over her with just my hands palm flat, holding me up. She breathes beneath me, cheeks flushed and eyes a little hazy. I bend over and kiss her, wanting more of her already.

Her hand touches my chest and I look in her eyes, overwhelmed with emotion. She sighs and says, “You asked me before—right before—if my needs were getting met?”

My jaw clenches and I reply, “Yeah.”

“There’s only one man—one very supernatural man—that can meet my particular needs.” She pushes up to her elbows and I meet her halfway, stealing another kiss. When we part she says, “I need you to do that to me over and over again.”

“I think I can do that.” The creeping paranoia I had before I walked in is gone. Is it magic? God I hope so. I need a strong, powerful woman to keep up with me in life and in bed. Really, I wonder where the bed is in this place. Does she sleep here? Suddenly I need to know everything about this girl and her bed and all the places I can get her naked. I’m stuck with the urge to do something else first, “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“So you trust me now?”

“I do,” I tell her, pulling her naked body off the table. “But I don’t think it would matter if I didn’t.”

“No,” she replies, cupping my chin with her hand. I feel the heat blooming between us again. It’s natural and only amplified by our personal gifts. “I don’t think it would.”

To receive updates about my books and special deals please join my mailing list.Also, you can find me on twitter @theangellawson or on Facebook at Angel Lawson or Angel Lawson Author. Come say hi. I do have cookies but they’re gluten free.

 Readers,

Oh man. I really, really loved dipping a toe back in this universe. It had been a while and although in the back of my mind I knew I wanted to follow through on some characters it seemed daunting for some reason. Could I really get into the heads of these other characters? Could I do them justice? Amelia and Grant got their HEA but what about everyone else? Poor Ryan (and guh, Sebastian) had a sad ending and I hate d that for them. I’m here to try to fix that for them.

I truly hope you enjoyed this additional novella. Sebastian’s story should be available very soon.  Please drop me a review to let me know! And if you have not signed up for my mailing list please do so. It’s the best way to get new content, special deals and I always toss in a couple of amazing book sales/offers because I know you guys like that.

Take care and see you soon!

Angel

Angel Lawson Books

The Death Fields:

The Girl Who Shot First

The Girl Who Punched Back

The Girl Who Kicked Ass

The Girl Who Kissed the Sun

Creature of Habit Series:

Creature of Habit (Book 1)

Creature of Habit (Book2)

Creature of Habit (Book 3)

A Vampire’s Seduction (Ryan’s Story Book 4)

A Vampire’s Fate (Sebastian’s Story Book 5) Pre-Order

The Wraith Series:

Wraith

Shadow Bound

Grave Possession

Urban Fantasy

The Lost Queen

Vigilant

Contemporary Romance:

FanGirl-A Girl Who Shot First Companion Novel

For the Win