Chapter 5 #2
Raphael stepped into the club and was hit by a wall of sound and sensation. The bass thrummed under his skin, making his bones vibrate. The lights were a riot of color—reds and blues and greens pulsing in time with the music, casting wild shadows over the crowd.
Everywhere he looked, bodies pressed close—shifters swaying, laughing, the air thick with the tang of alcohol, magic, and lust. It rippled down his skin causing him to shutter, but not in a good way.
Not in a way that most incubi would have felt.
Raphael moved through it all, a shadow among shadows, his demon nature both a warning and an invitation.
He caught snatches of conversation as he passed: laughter edged with fear, names whispered, secrets traded for another round.
He stopped at the bar, leaning in close enough to smell the bartender’s perfume—sharp and floral, with an undercurrent of something darker. “Whiskey,” he said, voice pitched low as he allowed his incubus nature, which he usually kept tamped down, to seep out.
The bartender poured, her hands steady despite the chaos, and the power she no doubt felt emanating from him. He picked up the glass and turned, resting his back against the bar.
He scanned the room, searching for familiar faces, for anyone who might have the information he needed.
At the end of the bar, his gaze snagged on a water shifter with lavender hair and pale green scales on her face that shimmered in the light.
Her smile was sharp as glass with pointy teeth, daring anyone to get close.
He walked towards her and then slid onto the stool beside her, letting his power roll over her skin like warm silk.
She shivered, turning to face him, her eyes wide and wary. He knew what she’d see. Lust incarnate. Her body would be reacting to his pheromones. His own magic would know exactly what she was attracted to, and he’d manifest it for her.
“Looking for something, demon?” she purred.
“Information,” he murmured, letting a hint of hunger leak into his voice.
He wasn’t going to play with her. He’d give enough of his power to get what he wanted and then move on.
Just using his incubus abilities to this extent was making him nauseous.
Especially when Miryam's face popped into his mind.
He had to put that aside for now and do what was necessary.
“Wolfgang. Azure. Trafficking.” He let his words roll out rich like velvet and caress her skin.
Raphael poured every ounce of his seduction magic into his voice and watched as her eyes glazed over and she leaned closer to him.
She chuckled, low and flirtatious. “You and everyone else, apparently. Why should I tell you anything?” Her eyes met his, a challenge, or rather she was attempting at playing hard to get because she thought he actually wanted her. Gag.
He reached out, brushing her wrist with his fingers. Magic sparked, hot and electric. “Because if you don’t, you’ll wish you had.” It was a threat that sounded like a delicious promise.
Her eyes widened, flaring with heat, and her own body reacted to him.
Her pheromones hit him, and Raphael had to swallow down the bile that rose in his throat.
She leaned in, her voice barely audible over the music, her breath warm against his ear.
“Wolfgang and Talulla have been making deals with Venom for months. Girls in, girls out, money changing hands. If it means finding a mate, everyone has been turning a blind eye. If you want proof, find Darius. He’s in the VIP lounge—likes to talk when he’s drunk.
He’s a bear shifter, so you won’t be able to miss him. ”
Raphael pressed a coin into her hand, the metal humming with a spell. It was the least he could do for using his magic on her, getting her hot and bothered, and then not fulfilling the desire he’d sparked in her. “Forget me.”
He left her blinking, already moving through the crush of bodies, up the stairs to the lounge. Up here, the air was cooler, the lights softer, but the tension was thicker—predators circling, always ready for blood.
Raphael spotted Darius immediately. The bear shifter took up half a curved booth, his bulk crowding a nervous-looking snake shifter with glossy black hair and venom-bright eyes.
Turning his attention back to the man in question, he noticed that Darius looked like he’d been carved out of the same stone the casino’s foundation was poured on—broad-shouldered, thick-necked, and impossible to ignore even in a room full of supernatural predators.
As the female had said, he was a bear shifter, but the magic that hummed beneath his skin, like other Chaos members, was .
. . off. Maybe dormant, like a sleeping volcano, or twisted by some weird phenomenon in their species.
There was a heaviness to him, a kind of sluggish power, as if his animal side was locked behind a door that never had a key.
His skin was the color of burnt caramel, his face dusted with a perpetual five o’clock shadow that threatened to turn into a full beard at any moment.
Shaggy dark hair fell over sharp, watchful eyes—eyes that belonged in the wild but had learned to settle for neon lights and bottom-shelf whiskey.
Darius looked like he’d been poured into his suit—powerful arms barely contained by fabric, a gold chain glinting at his throat.
A jagged scar ran from his ear down to the edge of his jaw—a souvenir from a fight he probably started and definitely finished.
His gaze was sharp and wary, and when he laughed—a booming, unguarded sound—it was the kind of laugh that dared anyone to laugh back.
And as he shifted, Darius moved with a certain lumbering grace, the kind that belonged to something powerful but forced to play nice in a world that didn’t want him at full strength.
Raphael found himself almost smiling at the way the bear shifter laughed too loudly as he spoke to his companion, at the number of glasses on the table in front of him, and at the way he leaned in close to the snake shifter and spoke.
Every word seemed like a dare—a promise that the bear might be sleeping, but he was never truly tamed.
Raphael approached with deliberate confidence and slid into the booth beside the bear. The snake shot him a nervous look, but Darius only arched a bushy brow, his massive hand closing protectively around his half-empty glass.
“Got business, stranger?” Darius rumbled, his words slurred only slightly, but his gaze as clear and calculating as a predator sizing up its next meal.
Raphael let his magic seep out, slow and subtle, testing the edges of Darius’s mind.
Where most mortals, and even some shifters, would have folded under the seduction, Darius’s aura felt like a wall—thick, unyielding, bristling with dormant power.
Raphael pushed a little harder, feeling sweat bead at his temple with the effort.
“I’m in need of information, and a friend suggested I talk to you.” Raphael was obviously using the term “friend” very, very loosely as he let his gaze snap to the snake. “You mind?”
The snake shifter’s tongue flicked nervously. “It’s a free kingdom, even for demons.”
Raphael wasn’t surprised that the snake knew what he was, but if the snake had known what type of demon, he wouldn’t have been so eager to let Raphael join them.
Darius grunted, unimpressed, and not bothered at all by the fact that Raphael was a demon. A dominant male sure that he could handle himself against any threat, he spat, “Talk, then.”
Raphael leaned in, lowering his voice to a confidential murmur.
“I’m looking for knowledge that Wolfgang has been less than stellar as a ruler of the Kingdom of Chaos.
There’s rumors that he worked with Azure in human trafficking for the sake of Damarian males finding mates.
And I hear you know things others don’t. ”
Darius’s eyes narrowed. “You hear wrong. I know nothing worth knowing. And even if I did, I wouldn’t be handing it out to an incubus demon.” He smirked, tossing back a swallow of whiskey. “You Chaos types always think you can talk your way through anything.”
Raphael pressed harder, his magic slithering along the edges of Darius’s consciousness, probing for weakness. But the bear’s shifter magic—twisted as it was in this kingdom—resisted, stubborn and sluggish but formidable. Raphael felt like he was trying to seduce a mountain into moving.
He switched tactics, letting a note of genuine threat enter his tone.
“I’m not here to play. You want to keep your head when the hammer falls, you’ll tell me what I need to know.
Otherwise, you’re considered an accomplice, and I’ll make sure the shaman council knows.
But, you give up information you know, I’ll accept that as a confession of admitting wrong doing and asking for grace. ”
Darius snorted, but something in Raphael’s voice must have gotten through, because the big man set his glass down and glanced at the snake shifter, who quickly looked away.
“Fine, yes, I know about the dealings of our king and queen. It wasn’t much of a secret to those of us who’ve been waiting for mates for nearly as long as you’ve been alive.”
He paused and Raphael saw the desperation in the bear shifter’s eyes. Like every Damarian male, they longed for that connection. Some Chaos members, once mated, were finally able to fully shift. But that wasn’t a guarantee.
Darius continued. “Wolfgang and Talulla were trading females or money for females with KOV,” Darius muttered, voice lower now, the words weighted with resentment.
Perhaps, regardless of his desperation, there was a part of him that wasn’t willing to gain a mate in such a way.
“Azure ran the show—promised mates, sold hope to the desperate. A lot of us didn’t like it, but speaking up wasn’t healthy. ”
Raphael studied him, watching for lies. “You have any physical proof?”
Darius’s lips twisted. “What? You mean like any of the females actually having been mated?” He shook his head.
“What female, taken against her will, would want to be mated to a male willing to do that? I don’t know of any members in our kingdom that actually did get a mate from those dealings.
” He glanced around the room, as if looking for anyone who might be paying them any attention.
“Typically, I am a man who deals in information. It’s good leverage to have.
But when it comes to females being harmed, there’s no charge.
According to one of his closest guards, Wolfgang keeps records.
Who knows what he planned to use them for.
They’re in his office safe, behind the painting.
Password’s his mate’s name, backwards.” He leaned in, breath warm and whiskey-soaked.
“Don’t say I told you. You’re not the only one who can make people forget things. ”
The bear shifter was already edging away, eyes darting. Darius slumped back, the tension in his frame bleeding out all at once as if the strain of resisting Raphael’s magic, and the risk of talking, had worn him down.
Raphael stood, scanning the room, his skin prickling with the sense of eyes on his back. The air crackled with a dark energy—too many secrets, too many predators. He moved to the stairs, Darius’s words echoing in his ears.
As he left the club, the city’s chaos pressed close—bright, brutal, and unyielding. But Raphael was burning with a new purpose. He had what he needed, and for the first time in a long while, hope didn’t feel like a cruel joke.
He set his jaw, heart thudding. If Visata was offering him a second chance, he would not miss it. Not with Miryam, not with this mission. Not this time.