by Gaja J. Kos
“A date?”
There was nothing but positivity in her voice, but still I cringed. “Not a date date. There’s going to be other people.”
“But you could sense the interest.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Yeah, I could.”
“Look, Lotte, I’m not trying to make light of your problem, but maybe a new city and new people are precisely what you need to liberate yourself from Afanasiy.” I opened my mouth to argue, but Melina was having none of that. “You’ve been stuck in Munich this whole time. Everything here is…well, infected.”
I chuckled a little at that. Melina wasn’t wrong.
While Afanasiy and I might not have spent our time zooming all over Munich, my hometown, my entire damn life there, definitely bore the stain of his presence. The memory of how fucking good we were together.
Right until the Blade of Bastards threw me under the bus.
“Besides,”—a smile teased her tone—“if you break your dry spell in Berlin, that just might benefit me once you get your firm ass back home.”
I huffed.
When she put it like that, how could a werewolf argue?
The post-concert exhilaration weaving through the dark club was infectious, pulsing in rhythm to the old-school rock’n’roll pumping from the speakers. A touch loud, perhaps, for all the sensitive supe ears among the humans crammed into the place, but in all honesty, with my entire body attuned to the beat, I wasn’t complaining. And neither was my company for the evening.
Finn, Gina, and two of their colleagues—a vampire with a gorgeous canvas of black-and-gray tattoos who went by the name of Sarah, and a downright stunning half Fae called Jorn—occupied the semi-private vinyl booth we’d been invited to thanks to Gina’s connection to the band. Apparently, the werewolf had been a fan ever since she’d stumbled across their music a little less than a decade ago. I could definitely see the appeal. Not only did the four supes create excellent rockabilly music that carried the essence of times long past with a dash of present thrown in, they were a damn appealing sight.
Judging by the energy pulsing between Gina and Aric, the band’s singer with classically handsome features and envious greaser hair to boot, the attraction went both ways.
But not acted upon.
Curiosity stirred, but since I didn’t really know her well enough to ask, I stuffed those questions in a box destined to gather dust in the attic of my mind.
“Care to join me for a dance?” Finn’s voice brushed against my ear right as Jorn and Ewart, the band’s drummer, delved into music talk that went way over my layman knowledge.
My dad could play a mean guitar, and my brother Ludvig had taken up bass and percussions since they apparently helped his focus while he worked on his graphic novels, but I’d most definitely missed out on that trait from the Freundenberger gene pool. A grateful listener is all I would ever be.
I tipped my face towards Finn’s. The distance between us was nearly nonexistent thanks to us sitting closer and closer on the red vinyl bench with every minute that went by.
His magic bathed my skin, and the demon side of me answered in kind.
Finn’s eyes flashed with brilliant green. “Can I take that as a yes?”
“You most certainly can.”
I set my gin and tonic on the smooth obsidian table then accepted Finn’s extended hand. His gaze swept down the skin-tight black dress with a plunging neckline I’d rushed out to buy this afternoon—along with a replacement for my ruined messenger bag. From the delicious swirl of magic and man that encompassed me, I’d chosen my outfit well.
We wove through the gyrating bodies occupying the dance floor until we found a spot where we could move with some amount of freedom—not that Finn wasted a single second before drawing me to him.
I eagerly pressed my back against his tall body and gave myself over to the rhythm. To the feel of the warlock behind me. The intricate web of his scent that, despite the abundance of people surrounding us from all sides, became the only reality my senses cared for.
Everything Finn was seemed to resonate with me, my wolf and demon side in perfect sync in their desire for more. My desire for more.
“I’m glad you came out tonight,” Finn said into my neck, then traced his lips up my pulse.
I shivered and arched my back, pressing myself harder against him. “Mmm, I can feel that.”
And shit, if my body didn’t come alive under the delicious strength of his lust.
“But I have to tell you”—I spun around to meet the warlock’s forest green eyes—“this can only be a casual hookup. I don’t want any bad blood between us in case—”
“Don’t worry.” His mouth hovered over mine. “I’m good with casual.”
A husky laugh escaped my lips. I ran a hand down his side, across the swell of his ass. “Care to show a wolf just how good?”
The man might have been a warlock, but I could have sworn he growled at the challenge.
He held me to him with one hand splayed across the small of my back, his other skimming the side of my breast before he brought it up to my jaw. He tipped my head farther back, towering over me. My heart raced, and my lips parted of their own volition.
Finn leaned in—
“Have you seen Sarah?” Jorn came barreling through the crowd. “Ah, fuck, sorry. Didn’t know you were…”
He waved a hand at the pair of us, but while his apology was sincere, it was also obvious he wouldn’t have changed his actions had he known what we were up to.
Finn and I put some distance between us, though the warlock kept his hand planted firmly just above my ass. I relished the contact.
“Wasn’t she with you?” Finn asked.
“She went to get drinks, but she—”
Someone bumped into Jorn from behind, sending the tall Fae staggering a step forward. Annoyance flashed across his face, and he cut a sharp look over his shoulder, but the dancing vampire didn’t give a fuck, her head tossed back and body swaying to the fast, demanding beat.
“She should have been back by now,” he all but snarled, returning his attention to us.
The sheer protectiveness emanating from him was a familiar one. Fae might not be pack creatures, but I noticed a running theme within ICRA’s circles—the people we worked with were ours. From what I picked up, Berlin’s agents seemed to mostly work in pairs, which only added fuel to the protective fire.
“Maybe she hooked up with someone,” Finn suggested, but his gaze scanned the dim club with a sharpness that hinted he wasn’t buying his own words. The aroma of magic around him intensified.
“I’ll do another round around the club,” Jorn went on. “Could you two check the back and the lot outside?”
Finn looked as if he wanted to give me an out, but I briefly touched my hand to his butt, letting him know I was fine with this.
I glanced from him to Jorn. “I’ll take the back. Call me if you find anything.” I tapped my ear. “I’ll have my radar on.”
“Thank you.” Jorn dipped his chin, then disappeared into the crowd.
When even the tip of his blond head vanished, I turned to Finn and placed my hand on his chest. “Here’s to hoping intuition will be wrong for once.”
The grim smile on his face, however, confirmed he believed that as little as I did.
My search of the back unearthed nothing except Gina and Aric chatting softly in the privacy of a backstage room. With the fairly cleaner air dominating this part of the club, Gina had picked up on my hunting mode immediately. I assured her I’d howl if anything came up. Between Jorn, Finn, and me, we had the place covered.
By the time I reemerged onto the dance floor, the place was absolutely packed. I grunted and kept to the wall while I attuned my senses. Sarah’s scent wasn’t one I could pick up without effort as was the case with people I was close with, so I systematically eliminated the threads, comparing them to Sarah’s sample I’d stored in the vaults of my mind upon our introduction.
Two songs drifted by the time I found something.
A faint, faint wisp of the vampire. But one that was laced with unmistakable duress. Shit.
I pushed through the crowd and out onto the parking lot. The scent became fainter here, though I could have sworn I hadn’t read the signature wrong. Sarah had come out at some point, and I hadn’t picked up anything that would suggest she’d ventured back inside. I frowned and lifted my nose to the air.
“Found anything?” Finn’s voice crashed into me as he came running from the deep shadows at the far end of the lot.
I lifted a hand, unwilling to compromise my tracking. Finn stilled—then broke into a run right alongside me as I launched myself alongside the building.
Yes, the scent had been fainter out here. But that was because I’d been searching for it too high up. Someone had dragged Sarah along the narrow strip of pavement curving around the club.
The reek of dumpsters hit me full force as I rounded the bend, but it was the shadow tucked among them that commanded my attention.
A shadow that swayed—then crashed onto the ground with a vicious crack.
Sarah.
10
Finn rushed forward, but my legs refused to cooperate as I stared at Sarah’s fallen form among the cluster of dumpsters.
The memory of Christian’s body surged through my mind.
Of Richard collapsing courtside.
Then those final moments I’d shared with Rosalie at the party—when she’d believed she’d drunk too much, and I’d let her go. I just fucking let her go, not knowing Nill was coursing through her system.
“Lotte!” Finn’s call seemed to come from somewhere far away.
This couldn’t be happening. Not again.
The gin and tonic threatened to come back up.
ICRA had shut that shit down. We’d—
Finn’s voice rubbed against the edges of my panic.
Slicing through the vortex of dread, I forced my damn feet to move until I was crouching by Finn’s side, the reek emanating from the dumpsters assaulting my nostrils.
“Sonovabitch,” a weak voice croaked.
Alive.
I sank down on my ass.
Sarah was alive.
She slurred a select few curses and tried to get up even as Finn held her steady. Behind me, a rapid beat of footsteps bounced off the pavement. Jorn.
“What happened?” the half Fae demanded, wedging himself between Finn and me.
I scooped myself off the ground and back into a crouch just as Finn eased himself behind Sarah and maneuvered her body into his lap. He ran his fingers over the bleeding bump on the vampire’s forehead.
She winced as his magic slipped under her skin.
“Fuckhead”—another wince—“roofied me. Well, tried to, anyway.”
My stomach sank right as Finn’s magic cranked it up a notch. Whether to push his healing power deeper or in response to Sarah’s statement, I couldn’t tell.
The grim lines shaping his face, however, revealed he was definitely shaken. Shaken and furious.
Drugging a vampire was next to impossible. The mere fact the drug had weakened Sarah so much indicated whoever put the vile thing together had spent a shitload of studying time devoted to supernatural systems.
“Which fuckhead?” Jorn asked, but I already caught the scent drifting through the night.
“Human?” I growled. “A fucking human roofied you?”
Sarah’s fangs poked out. Had she been able to move, I had a feeling the asshole would have been long dead by now. A gentle shift in Finn’s magic hinted he’d picked up on her mood—and was doing his best to take away the grating edges without going against her will.
“I know who he is.” Jorn looked at me, face tight and teal eyes blazing. “Sarah rejected his advances. The little shit didn’t take it well.”
Anger simmered in the pit of my stomach. “I’ve dealt with assholes who couldn’t take no for an answer before.”
Jaxon’s ex Aaron had spent three months in jail for assaulting an ICRA employee—namely, me—before being sent back to his homeland. Per my suggestion, Jaxon told the Australian authorities what happened, how Aaron had stalked and threatened him. They made sure the werewolf with boundary and anger-management issues lived out the rest of his years in circumstances that made it impossible for him to replicate those actions.
Then there was Svinimir. The fuckass of a demon who wanted to bind Melina to him, then had her beaten within an inch of her life when she fought back and stole his power. That bastard was rotting in a tight ICRA cell—the last thing he’d ever see in his worthless life.
I met Jorn’s hard gaze. “I can deal with another.”
“I’m coming with you,” Finn offered, then said to Jorn, “You can finish healing Sarah, yeah?”
Sarah, mercifully, had succumbed to Finn’s magic-induced slumber. While she was banged up thanks to her uncontrolled fall and scraped from where the human prick had dragged her across the lot, it was what the drug continued doing on the inside that was the true bitch. Even if she’d escaped the full intended effects, that shit needed to come out of her system. Fast.
“I’ll heal her.” Jorn slipped into Finn’s position, his Fae power already sweeping through the air with a hint of salty oceans and clear mountain rivers. The Court of Water.
I was still enraptured by the scent when Finn placed a hand on my shoulder. “Ready?”
I nodded, then rose, quickly wiping the grime off the back of my dress.
“I’ll track better in wolf form.” I shoved my tiny purse in Finn’s hands, then grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head. “Can you hold on to this for me?”
Dutifully, the warlock accepted my slip of a dress. Thankfully, the only other thing I had on was my panties and shoes. The latter I left with Jorn, and the lacy black panties found their home in Finn’s back pocket. When he slung the purse over his shoulder and tucked my dress behind his belt, I let the power of the shift flow through me.
The instant my paws touched the still-warm concrete instead of my bare feet, I broke into a run.
Rational, human thoughts faded as the scent of my prey became all that mattered. It guided me like a blazing light down the unfamiliar Berlin street—a beacon that only became brighter as I ate up the distance separating me from the fuck. It wasn’t until I could practically taste the cowardly, hateful soul on my lolled-out tongue that I slowed.
“As much as I regret saying this,” Finn said as he caught up with me, “don’t kill him.”
My only response was a growl.
Lone groups of pedestrians jumped out of the way as I barreled forward. I cut through the fumes of alcohol clinging to their bodies, my entire being locked on that disgusting scent that relayed, as clearly as words would have to a human, the wretchedness of the man’s soul.
He wasn’t just prey.
He was a stain in need of extermination.
A task my wolf wanted nothing more than to fulfill.
“Lotte,” Finn warned, but I was already pushing ahead, a red haze slipping across the corners of my mind.
My claws clicked against the pavement, the rhythm growing faster as I spotted the human clad in jeans and a torn tee swaggering down the dimly lit street.
The man spun at Finn’s call to stop, panic briefly flashing across his face—
And broke into a run.
The red haze took me whole.
There was nothing but the thud of my paws against the pavement, the frantic beat of the human’s heart, and the traces of his sweat, his fear, as he realized death was coming for him.
He veered into a dead-end street, the reek of his terror intensifying amidst the buildings. I bared my canines, snarling—
Magic exploded through the night.
Trying to outrun the power, I leaped at the cornered man. A blur of movement jolted across my vision, and blood hit my tongue as my canines scraped warm flesh. Blood that—
Tasted of power.
Finn.
A brief shock of rationality speared through me, and I unlocked my jaw from Finn’s arm. Though it didn’t stop me from snapping at him for intervening.
The human scum was mine.
He should have known better than to come between a wolf and her prey.
But when Finn, despite the ragged bite mark on his arm dripping blood onto the ground, shot me an apologetic look, the red haze rolled away like early morning mist.
My mind cleared, and a deep sense of guilt washed through me. I’d bitten Finn. I’d fucking bitten Finn.
I tucked my ears flat against my head, but before I could nuzzle the warlock to say I’m sorry, his eyes grew wide with alarm. His magic rose as I spun—a beautiful, complex thing.
But it wasn’t enough.
Pain sliced across my flank as the human swiped at me with a godsdamned switchblade.
I growled and tackled the bastard before he could strike again. The blade skittered across the street, and his back hit the veined concrete. I leaped atop him, pressing down hard with my paws as I brought my canines to his neck. My fur lit up with blue demon fire.
Faintly, I picked up on Finn’s astonishment, but it was the exquisite fear pulsing from the scumbag and staining the night that held my attention.
While not as fulfilling as a kill, having him powerless and terrified beneath me was damn satisfying.
Almost enough to make me forget about the damn rip in my flank.
Finn’s assertive footsteps echoed off the buildings as he approached, the magic he’d thrown in the air earlier gaining shape and potency alike. I remained atop the scumbag as Finn tightened the net, my saliva dripping onto the human’s exposed throat and stirring delicious spikes of panic.
Not nearly enough for the shit he’d felt entitled to take by force, but one glance at Finn assured me he wouldn’t let the police go easy on the bastard. His crime might not fall under ICRA jurisdiction, but we had our ways of getting what we wanted from the PD.
Once the filth was wrapped in a cocoon of power, I scooted off and padded over to Finn’s side. I switched shape, wincing a little as my upright frame stretched the wound, but the combination of my werewolf and demonic healing abilities was already working, knitting together flesh and skin.
