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“Oh,” he says. “You don’t know me.”
Classic bad-boy bullshit. I know the type. I’m not getting into that. My mother did and where did that get her…
One of the witches settles against his side and starts working her hands across his chest. The air in the room thickens. I need to take a break. I walk the main floor, say hello to a few faces, move one more line of dust. I’m heading down the dark corridor when HE steps into my path.
“What do you know about the vampire prince?” He is waiting for my answer.
“Why would I tell a random werewolf anything about that?”
“You think you’re better than everyone.” He crosses his arms. His biceps test the seams of his shirt. Everything about his demeanor makes him look like he crawled straight out of hell. Definitely not someone you’d want problems with. “I know the ice queen look. But you are just a drug girl.”
“If I’m just a drug girl, why are you bothering me?”
“You’re hiding something.”
“Let me through or I’ll tell Piro you’re harassing me.”
He laughs unbothered.
“Piro is not gonna do shit. Now be a good girl and tell me what you know about Julian.”
“Fuck you.” I push past him.
He grabs me and pins me to the wall. His whole hand closes around my throat, thumb pressing up under my jaw, tilting my head back. I feel every point of contact. He leans in, and his teeth lengthen into wolf fangs at the edges.
“So confident.” His voice drops. “You think you’re untouchable? I could snap your neck in one second.” He inhales and something shifts in his face. “What are you? A succubus?”
“Do I look like a whore?” The words come out low through my compressed throat.
“You know what’s funny.” He brings his mouth to my ear. “You don’t smell scared.” A pause. “You smell aroused.”
That’s enough. Some wolf alpha wannabe is not gonna treat me like that. I crawl the darkness out of me, and his hand starts to turn black. His veins go dark, death creeping up his forearm. I can feel the pull of his life fighting back, but it’s just so addictive that I want to go further.
Any normal person would be on the floor by now, begging me to stop. He watches it happen with complete fascination, his grip still firm on my throat, his eyes tracking the blackness as it spreads. His tattoos disappear under the spreading shadow. If it reaches his heart, he dies, but he doesn’t look too concerned.
“So you do have more to offer than stardust.”
“Nero! What the fuck! Let her go!” Piro’s voice cuts through as he moves toward us fast.
Nero doesn’t look at him. He looks at me, and I tighten the darkness around his throat. He leans closer, bringing his face to mine, daring me to finish it.
Piro hits him from the side, drags him back and releases me. I pull my hands to my chest and press them against my own neck, catching my breath.
“You okay?” Piro puts himself between us. “Why do you always have to be like this?” he says to Nero, who is smiling. What the fuck is going on. “You better go,” he says to me, without turning.
“I’m not finished with you.” Nero speaks over Piro’s shoulder, straight to me. “If you thought that would scare me off. You just made things interesting.”
Piro shoves him toward the back room, and I walk out of the club.
Well. So much for keeping a low profile.
CHAPTER 5
THE MONEY AND THE MONEY
I feel cold metal against my temple and taste blood in my mouth from my split lip. One eye is swollen shut, useless, pulsing with pain. I can’t see anything through it, only darkness, only flashes of movement, only the shape of fear before the gun goes off.
I wake up screaming. My hands go to my face, my chest, my skull. This isn’t my memory. Not my death. But it haunts me like the rest of the flashbacks I’m forced to carry.
