Dark Cravings

by Pryce, Madeline

  I scanned the premises. On a raised stone altar near the bar, just to the right of Micah and me, a half-man, half-beast with purple spiked hair and claws screeched into a microphone. The music here was no better than the crap Micah had in his car. The sound reverberated off the walls and straight into my brain. I had to cover my ears so my other senses could take over.

  I sucked in a deep breath of damp air, thick with the stench of demon-rotted flesh, blood, sweat, liquor and sex. Electricity danced over my skin and my instincts were too overwhelmed to do much more than buzz. The shadow inside me began a restless pacing. I got the impression that at any moment my flesh would split open and my feral vampire would crawl out.

  Micah caught my wrist and squeezed. “Breathe, or you’re going to pass out.”

  “You think?” At least my sarcasm wasn’t dulled. Small victory.

  The pulsing lights above sped to and fro, flashed blue, then green, then back to blue. It matched the tempo of the creature wailing into the mic and sent the thrashing crowd into discombobulated jerks. In comparison to the outfits of the other women and men, some human, most not, my corset and miniskirt were downright nun-like. Some were nude. Some wore dog collars, studded bras or latex pants with conveniently cut-out holes for various extra limbs, tails and the occasional protruding horn.

  Micah pulled me through the teeming throng of partiers at a brisk clip. Every time someone, or something, brushed up against me, I flinched.

  The moment we were through the crowd, I pulled Micah to a stop. Standing behind him, I lifted to the tips of my toes to reach his ear and my breasts pressed against the hard muscles of his back.

  “How can you stand it in here?” I yelled into his ear.

  He looked over his shoulder. Our noses bumped, brushed. Was he going to kiss me again? Did I want him to? Hell, yes. The need to do more than smudge my red lipstick was in his eyes.

  “You get used to it. After a while you might actually learn to like it. For me, being in here makes me feel alive.”

  “Just how often do you come here? I mean, they don’t care you’re a hunter?”

  “They aren’t doing anything wrong, Ella, so why would they be afraid? Most of them don’t even know what a hunter is. I don’t kill indiscriminately, despite what you might think.”

  Someone bumped into me from behind and got a nice feel of my ass in the process. My body was dislodged from Micah’s and the moment between us was broken. Without his touch, I was bombarded with all the sensations around me.

  “Let’s go.” He motioned me past the bar carved out of the wall. Rocky shelves held hundreds of different shapes and sizes of liquor. Three bartenders, dressed in identical black robes, glided back and forth, serving drinks out of long, thin glasses.

  All of the rooms we passed were stone, but the masonry was the only connecting factor. One was lit with a red light and made everything glow the color of blood. Gorgeous multihued rugs covered the hard ground, and the twenty or so tables were packed with every kind of demon I could imagine. What were they all doing here? It was like an entirely different world existed in this place.

  We passed a series of sitting rooms. Some had long leather couches arranged in front of dark wooden coffee tables, others just housed armchairs. One room had nothing but a blue light and a wading pool, which cast the rippling reflection of water onto the grooved ceiling.

  This place, despite the music and the demon vibe, was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen. No one approached us, well, no one except the idiot who’d brushed my ass, but it would have been impossible to ignore the weighted gazes tracking our movement.

  The tunnel we walked down opened into an anteroom. Sconces lit the bricked walls, and instead of the orange-and-red fire I was accustomed to, these flames danced purple and blue. Beneath my feet, my books sank into a plush animal-skin rug. The pelt looked a little like a buffalo and I realized I stood an inch from a beady black eye. The eye rolled back and forth with awareness. I stepped off it with a shudder.

  The man standing in front of the simple wooden door before us looked bored—until he spotted Micah. The vibration that came off this guy was different. He was human, but…not. I stared at the riot of golden corkscrew curls spilling over the breadth of his massive shoulders. His skin was golden and shimmered with sweat. Come to Mama.

  Although the obnoxious screams of the singer in the main room must have been half a mile away now, the noise was still surprisingly loud. And still just as insufferable. When Micah spoke, he had to shout.

  “Dante!” Micah’s grin was one I’d never seen on his face before, not even with Eli. The smile was friendly, full of mischief and would have been boyish if Micah’s eyes weren’t dancing with darkness. “Castro? He busy?”

  Dante ignored Micah and looked at me with narrowed golden eyes. They reminded me of a cat. Dante traced his gaze over my tattoo and settled on my exposed cleavage. He swiped a broad pink tongue along his lower lip.

  “Hey, asshole,” I said and snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Eyes up here, big guy.”

  Micah slid a possessive hand around my waist in a slow caress that gave me goose bumps. He pulled me close, nuzzled my neck. His long fingers settled over my hip and I imagined he was giving Dante the evil eye over my shoulder.

  “So, this is your little ball of claws. She is smaller than I expected.” Dante’s eyes were alight with dark humor. I wasn’t amused.

  “I’m not his anything.”

  “Ouch.” Dante put a palm three times the size of mine over his heart. “She does have quite a mouth on her.”

  “Enough,” Micah said. “Is Castro in?”

  “Nope. He had to take care of some business. There’s a lot of talk around town about you two.”

  “Fuck.” Micah ran a hand through his hair, gave it a little tug of frustration. “Will he be back tonight?” Dante grinned.

  “Nope.”

  “Tell him I stopped by and that I need to talk to him.”

  Micah stalked off and I knew he expected me to toddle along behind him. Fat chance. I crossed my arms under my breasts, which was a mistake, because they almost fell out. The way Dante’s gaze zeroed in, he was thinking the same thing. God, I hated this outfit. I uncrossed my arms and awkwardly leaned against the wall to glare at Dante. He wasn’t a demon. He wasn’t human.

  “What are you?”

  Dante’s smile widened and showed his extra sharp, elongated canines. “I could ask you the same thing, little vampire.”

  “It seems you already know what I am.”

  He appeared to consider me for a moment before he nodded. “I’m a shape shifter.”

  I felt my eyes go wide. “No shit?”

  I’d read about skin walkers, shape shifters, whatever, but never actually seen one in person. No wonder the energy pumping from him was off the charts. When I began to wonder what his blood might taste like, I took a step back and felt disgusted.

  “Don’t look so impressed,” Micah said from right behind me. “He’s a great big pussy.”

  I’d been so consumed I hadn’t even heard Micah’s approach. His voice made me jump. Dante threw his head back and laughed. Roared, really.

  “If you ever get tired of this guy and want to know what a real predator is like in bed, you know where to find me.” Dante’s voice still rumbled with laughter.

  “Not on your life, asshole,” Micah grumbled and pushed me out of the alcove and into the main corridor.

  The moment we were out of earshot, Micah pulled me to a stop. “Was that necessary?”

  Someone’s panties were in a bunch.

  “What? I didn’t do anything. Geez, when the hell did you get so possessive? Why don’t you just pee on me and get it over with.”

  A muscle twitched in Micah’s jaw. “You bring out the worst in me. I can’t handle this. I thought I could.” He glared at me. “If another guy eye-fucks your tits, I’m gonna go ballistic.”

  My mouth dropped open. I stared at him. Was he se
rious?

  I shoved a finger into his chest. “This outfit was your idea, not mine.”

  The blue-green hues of his eyes became molten. There was a fire in his gaze that was going to burn me if I wasn’t careful.

  “It was either take you with me or leave you at home.”

  A low-level throb beat in my head. His words stung. A lot. “So that whole trust line was bullshit? Fuck you, Micah.”

  I turned to walk away, but he caught my arm. He scraped his hand through his hair. “Damn it, Ella. The thought of leaving you behind… Well, it appears we’re stuck together for the time being. If you haven’t noticed, I like this place, like these people. This is my world. You would have come in here knives-a-throwin’ if given half the chance.”

  “So this is why you dressed me as your personal slut?” God, now I was pissed.

  Micah’s voice dropped and the anger between us began to morph, became something confusing and familiar. “Hannah picked out that outfit, not me. But now that you mention it, is that what you are?” he asked. “My personal slut?”

  On his lips, the word was dirty, sexy. The air grew heavy. “Is that what you want me to be?” What I really wanted to ask him was, Is that all you want me to be?

  He gently touched my neck over the bite he’d left there and down to my collar. He fingered the crimson marks on the exposed slope of my breast. I had the most powerful urge to rub against him. Didn’t my stupid hormones know I was mad at him?

  “Maybe,” he said.

  I wasn’t ready for this conversation. The truth was, I wasn’t ready to lose him. So much had changed, but through it, somehow, Micah had become my constant. What kind of fucked-up universe was I in?

  I looked up at him, toyed with the collar of his sweater. He relaxed into me and made a move to run his lips along my cheek. I waited until that last moment. He was close enough that the moisture from his breath dampened my skin.

  With a hand on either shoulder, I shoved him away.

  “Too bad for you, I’m not anyone’s slut.”

  Laughter shook Micah’s chest and a reluctant smile with a hint of admiration shone on his face. He was too damned handsome for his own good.

  “God, you’re a bitch.” The way he said it, I heard goddess.

  “You bet your ass I am.”

  I think we made some progress.

  Chapter Eleven

  Micah led me to a semi-private room with an arched-stone entryway. We stepped inside and I looked up at the reverse pyramid ceiling, which peaked in a point at least twenty feet in the air. Hanging from two rustic wooden beams, amber teardrop lights gave off a soft, golden glow. Where there might have been windows, rusted bars filled the stone notches, reminding me of a prison cell.

  The space had a different energy from the other rooms we’d passed. It was calm here, the atmosphere strangely serene. Aside from the small wooden bar nestled into a shadowed alcove, there were half a dozen small tables and an oversized, brown leather sofa.

  As gracefully as I could in this damn skirt, I slid onto a barstool and did a little side-to-side swivel. Smooth. Quiet. Micah took the seat next to me and made a come-hither motion to the robed figure across the room.

  “What does Dante shift into?” I ran a hand over the polished bar.

  “He turns into a six-hundred-pound lion, and when he does, you don’t want to be around.”

  I gave a little laugh. “I get it now. Pussy.”

  “He’s not too bad, runs a bit hot, sucks at poker, but he’s got a good sense of humor.”

  “Is that how you know everyone here, playing poker? What about the Shadow Agency? I thought you hated demons.”

  Micah gave me a sad smile. “You thought a lot of things. As I said earlier, I kill those who need to be put down. The demons here aren’t evil, they just want to live in peace.”

  I waited for him to elaborate. Instead he changed the subject. “Let me buy you a drink.”

  “Are we on a date now?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  Micah tapped a rhythmic beat on the counter. “Depends. Do you fuck on the first date?”

  “I might. That is, if my date wasn’t an egotistical ass who thought women’s panties should fall at his feet at the word ‘fuck’.”

  He seemed to mull that one over for a minute. “Okay, not a date.”

  A tall, paunchy human sauntered over and gave Micah a nod. The only thing I could see of him was his face. What I saw was downright cheery. The man’s cheeks were ruddy, and he had a mop of orange curls that the robe’s hood didn’t hide.

  “Hey, Joe,” Micah said.

  “Been a long time. Boss has been asking after you,” Joe said in the Irish lilt I’d been expecting. It was quite charming.

  “So I heard. I’ll take my usual.”

  “And for the lass?”

  Micah looked at me for a moment. “A Flaming Sunrise.”

  “I hardly think getting drunk is going to help our situation.” I didn’t drink. Ever. Liquor dulled the senses too much.

  “You wanted a frame of reference. I’m giving you one,” Micah said.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ll find out. Aside from my contact, who isn’t here, this is the second reason I brought you here.”

  “That sounds very ominous.”

  When Joe chuckled, it was from his belly, which through the robes, looked a little rotund. “She’s just an itty-bitty thing. Are you sure she can handle the Flaming Sunrise? Perhaps a nice mixer would do her right.”

  I had no idea what in the hell a Flaming Sunrise was, but I wasn’t about to back down from the obvious challenge. I stiffened my back and sat up a little straighter.

  “I can hold my liquor.” Maybe.

  Micah pointed a thumb at me. “See? She can hold her liquor.”

  Joe began pulling out square brown bottles, too thick to see through. I could barely make out the sluggish liquid sloshing back and forth inside. My interest was piqued. Joe never looked down as he juggled cups and shot glasses.

  “So, what you been up to?” Joe asked.

  “Oh this and that. Got attacked by a succubus. Almost died. That was really the highlight of my week.”

  Joe grinned and it took me a few seconds to realize there were too many teeth crammed into his mouth. “I heard about that.” He gave a little laugh and started setting glasses in front of me.

  I looked at the six shots Joe lined up. What had I gotten myself into? They ranged in color from purple to pink and then ended with a splash of orange. It looked like a sunrise. I didn’t get the flaming part, though.

  “You aren’t going to light these on fire or anything, are you?” I asked.

  Joe smiled and put a short, stout glass of amber liquid in front of Micah.

  “I’ll start you a tab,” Joe said and went back to the table he’d been at when we arrived.

  I looked at the glasses. “You don’t expect me to drink all of these, do you?”

  Leaning closer, I put my nose to the first purple concoction and inhaled. My fangs pulsed and I jerked back in alarm. Blood. There was blood in there. From a safer distance, I sniffed the others and nearly got dizzy at the bouquet of scents.

  “What the hell is that?” I snapped, pointing to my Flaming Sunrise.

  “I’ve been thinking about what the witch said, about my blood. I haven’t been able to think of anything else.” His gaze moved up my legs. “Well, almost nothing else.”

  “Micah.” I wanted to tell him he couldn’t be a demon, but the truth was, he could be.

  He misunderstood my hesitation. “No, don’t. Hear me out. I trust you to tell me the truth, no bullshit. The succubus fucked with me, I can feel it. What we did in that hotel room…” Micah paused, took a deep breath. “The things I did to you… I liked them. That isn’t normal. When you walked out of the hospital, it felt like a part of my soul was being cut from me.” He cupped my cheek, used the pad of his thumb to caress my lower lip. “It wasn’t until
you walked into my apartment that I felt human again. I have to know what this darkness is inside me.”

  Well, hell. “I’ll taste the drinks, but Micah, I don’t think we should assume the succubus did something to you. You want me to be straight with you? I’ll be straight. I’ve seen the darkness in your eyes since I met you. I call it your predator. When it comes out, it draws mine out too. I don’t really know what that means.”

  Micah rolled his glass back and forth between his hands. “Damn it. I know. Let’s see how this goes.” He pointed to my drinks. “And then we’ll go from there. If I’m a demon, then Richard had to have known, right? Why would he raise me? Look, let’s forget it for now and see about getting you drunk.”

  “If your mom had an affair and got pregnant, she could have played it off as Richard’s baby.”

  I looked at the shots in front of me, gave my best put-upon sigh. “How does this work?”

  Micah pointed to the first drink, which was a dark, swirling purple.

  “This here is your average diabetic blood, mixed with vodka.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “The Flaming Sunrise is Castro’s pride and joy. He loves this crap and I’ve watched him partake more than a few times.”

  “Castro is a vampire?” I asked, surprised.

  “Hell, no. He despises bloodsuckers.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why did he create a drink for them?”

  “Vampires aren’t the only demons who enjoy blood, darlin’.”

  “Okay fine, explain the rest, so I know what I’m getting myself into.”

  As he spoke, he pointed to each drink. The second concoction was magenta, the next was still pink, but lighter. The fourth started to shift in to the dawn with a pure white, the fifth had the first hues of yellow and the last was a bright, shimmering orange.

  “We’ve got male, AB negative, then female, also AB negative. The white is demon blood, the yellow is vampire and the orange is shape shifter. Each drink is infused with vodka.”