Sometimes my magic is a real pain in the dick.
I lick my lips, studying Hazel as we land just outside of Rut in the corridor that links the sex club to Chaos, the nightclub portion of the business. I’ve never seen a passenger handle siphoning so well, but the little witch doesn’t wobble or cover her mouth like she’s about to vomit.
“Doing okay, baby doll?” I ask, leaning close to her ear to ensure she can hear me. The club is always loud on an almost obnoxious level.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” she asks, sliding her hands down her dress.
“Siphoning can be disorienting to some.” I brush my lips over her cheek as I pull back.
“Oh, well, I’m fine.” Her face turns from placid into a grimace at my words, and my brow furrows.
Why would she be uncomfortable about that? She should never be embarrassed about being a badass.
“It shouldn’t take me too long in Rut. I just need to make my rounds. Why don’t we see if we can find Greer? Novak is here, meaning she likely is too.” I tuck an errant wave behind her ear and fight the urge to stick my nose in her hair.
Her scent is even sweeter than normal tonight, and my mouth waters with the small hits I can pick up from here. Burying my entire face in her neck would provide even more of her potent pheromones.
“I guess I could hang out with Greer,” she whispers. “I thought we would stick together?—”
“And we will,” I assure her as my hunger grows. I just need to nibble on whatever traces of lust I can pick up from the air in Rut. Otherwise, my system might start to purposely draw her in.
I never realized what a curse my magic could be when I have my eyes on one particular meal.
Chapter Eight
Hazel
My head buzzes with the same pull of energy that radiates under my skin any time there’s a tasty meal within reach, and it makes it difficult to concentrate.
“So, how’s life with an incubus in the house?” Greer asks, bouncing on the toes of her flats. Her long pinkish-blonde hair falls over her face, and she shoves it behind her ear. “Annex is great. We all love him. He’s super respectful for an incubus. Not that they all don’t respect consent. It’s one of the caveats of their species, but you know what I mean.”
My head tilts.
She’s rambling.
That usually means she’s hiding something. I’ve known Greer since I was a child. She used to babysit me and my siblings. Violet and I aged rapidly, and by the time we were thirteen, we looked to be at least eighteen. Our parents still forced us to follow societal norms set by the humans. Although they did allow us to start dating at sixteen, they kept a strict eleven p.m. curfew until we turned eighteen.
Hell, they kept Greer around to babysit us until it was almost embarrassing. I didn’t mind nearly as much as Violet, but I like Greer.
Normally.
When she’s not trying to hide something from me.
“Why are you acting guilty?” I ask, planting my hands on my hips and trying to ignore the gnawing hunger.
Someone around here has piqued my monster’s interest, and that’s a bad sign.
I can’t feed in Black Cove. If I let my monster out, Zephyr and his sentinel buddies will be able to track my monster’s soul vibration.
A shadow teases out from my skin, darting toward the newly turned vampire. Greer is half siren, but her shitty ex bit her, transforming her against her will. When a human is turned into a vampire, the transition is almost always successful. It’s much more complicated when transforming a supernatural. The higher the percentage of supernatural DNA, the greater the chance the individual will die a painful death rather than being successfully transformed.
He was a reckless fool, but Greer lived.
I don’t even need to make contact with her skin to pick up on her guilt. She’s being deceptive about something.
“Me?” She points at her chest as her eyes bulge. “I-I’m not acting suspicious. I just came over to say hello.”
I almost laugh.
