Page 44

She sits with her witch friends, never smiles, that same cold mask on her face to distance herself from the world. Then I see him, the pretty boy that I saw with her a couple days ago. I remember him kissing and touching her. Fucking succubus whore. Smiling, his shit face turned toward her, she hasn’t seen him yet. I know I’m about to do something stupid, but I don’t like sharing toys. I never have.

I gesture to my men to follow me and grab the succubus by the shoulder when he tries to reach her table.

“We need to talk.”

He turns, confused first, then irritated. “What the fuck?”

I drag him toward the corridor before he finishes the sentence. My people follow me, not to help, but to clean up after I’m done. He fights, but his strength means nothing against mine. Succubi are built for fun and pleasure, not pain and pure violence. I take him through the back exit into the narrow alley behind the club and throw him onto the pavement.

He lands hard, then gets up slowly, hands raised like he can still negotiate his way out of this.

“What the fuck do you want?” he snaps. “I work for Megara. We don’t have problems with wolves.”

“You and Lara.” There’s no reason to drag this out. He looks surprised.

“What about Lara?” he asks.

“I don’t want you near her.”

He stares at me for a second, then laughs.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, dude? Do you even know her?” he says.

He irritates me more with every second.

“Disappear from her life,” I state.

He wipes blood from his mouth and shakes his head like I’m the unreasonable one.

“Listen, I know Lara is special, but trust me, there are plenty of girls in this city. You don’t need her, and she definitely doesn’t need you.”

The longer he talks, the calmer I get. Like, whatever he is telling me makes sense. The anger drains from my muscles. Warmth spreads through my chest, soft and pleasant, and for one stupid second, everything he says sounds reasonable. But then I realize. He is using his succubi aura to distract me. My rage comes back twice as hard.

“You motherfucker.” I grab him by the shirt. “You think that shit works on me?”

I slam him into the pavement.

“Fuck off,” Max spits.

“Is that what you are doing to her?” I drive my fist into his face. Bone cracks beneath my knuckles, blood spraying across the concrete. “Manipulating her with your fucking magic?”

He tries to hit me back.

Too slow.

I punch him again. His face starts losing shape, pretty-boy symmetry breaking into swelling flesh and blood. He drops to the ground. It’s too easy, almost disappointingly so, but still relaxing. I think about his hands on her. His mouth. The way he touched her body, like it belonged to him.

It doesn’t.

The succubus stops talking. He lies on the ground, breathing hard through blood. I crouch next to him, grab his hair, and lift his ruined face toward mine.

“Don’t touch her again,” I say. “Don’t look at her. Don’t think about her. Disappear.”

I let him fall and walk back inside, leaving my men to move him somewhere less inconvenient. My hands are already healing where his bones cut my skin, but blood still stains my knuckles. When I return to the club, I look for her, but she’s gone. I scan the booths, the bar, the dance floor. Nothing. No white hair. No black dress. No cold stare pretending not to notice me.

Then I see her friend, the skinny wizard boy near the bar. He jumps when he sees me coming.

“Where is Lara?” I ask.