Chapter 8 Malec
Malec
“Where is she now?” I mutter through gritted teeth, scanning the tables again.
“Maybe she went to the restroom. I’ll go check over there.” Bay tries to calm the rising anxiety building in my chest.
How can Kayla be so irresponsible?
I nod, and she makes her way toward the back of the bar, following the restroom signs. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.
“How can she risk herself for this lowlife scum?” I growl to Myko.
My gaze snaps back to the human filth—slouched at the table, chair tipped, one arm slung over the back like he owns the place.
The weak flicker under the table gives him away.
His soul bleeds a sick, dark green, like rot made visible.
I’m glad I don’t have to taste souls—because I know his would be just as foul.
“Bite me. I still don’t understand how Bay fell for a human in the first place,” Myko grumbles in my mind, his voice thick with disgust. “Such an inferior creature.”
I can’t help but smirk.
Myko is a pain in my ass most of the time, but I can't imagine life without his constant complaints and sassy comebacks.
He's like Uncle Pedro. Just less charming. And he’ll never admit he actually likes him.
“Did she find her?” I ask, eyes narrowing as I sit back down at the table, watching that bastard like a hawk.
“Yes. They’re arguing in the restroom. Something about her bringing you here.”
I sigh. She caught me, but I don’t care. This disguise thing? Bay’s idea, not mine.
If I hadn’t promised to play nice, I’d already have Kayla slung over my shoulder, halfway home, sparing us all the wasted breath on this human parasite.
Just as I turn my head toward the restrooms, something catches my eye—movement.
The guy’s reaching into his jeans pocket.
A small dropper bottle.
I still. Watch.
He has no idea who I am. No idea someone is watching. He doesn’t even bother to hide the bottle as he leans forward—almost casually—and drips something into Kayla’s drink.
My stomach turns.
You merfucking didn’t.
“Not on my watch, you fucker.”
I rise instantly, my chair crashing to the floor behind me with a sharp thud. Every step I take toward him, I fight for breath.
Inhale. Exhale.
I can’t lose control in front of all these humans. But the second I reach him, I grab the back of his neck with one hand, squeezing hard.
“I hope this drink was meant for you,” I say, voice low and ice-cold, as his eyes finally meet mine when he tilts his head up.
He frowns, confused. No survival instinct at all.
“Who the fuck are yo—”
I cut him off, yanking him out of his seat like garbage, my grip still locked on his throat. He struggles, clawing at my hand, and I smirk in disgust—rage curling beneath my skin, barely contained. Around us, people start whispering.
I look up. Just one warning glance. None of them dares get closer.
They shouldn’t. I’m one breath away from feasting on all of them.
“Keep it down, Malec,” Myko grits, his voice sharp but tight with fury. “Bring him to the restroom. No one else is in there.”
“No need to tell me twice.”
I drag this anchovy-like bastard through the back of the bar, quick and smooth. I find the women’s side door—perfect—and glance back once to make sure no one’s following.
Not that I care.
But my father would if I left a mess; he’d have to clean it.
I kick the restroom door open and hurl his body inside like a trash bag. It hits the floor with a satisfying thud. The door slams shut behind us, muting the bar's music. And with that, any trace of civility I was holding onto disappears.
What’s left? Only the man both sides of my bloodline raised me to be.
“Malec, what are you doing?” Kayla’s voice squeals from my left, but before she can reach me, I glare at my aunt.
She gets it, she knows not to interfere. And by the look of pure hatred in her eyes when she stares down at the human gasping on the floor—I know Myko filled her in.
Bay grabs Kayla’s arm. “We’re leaving. Now.”
“No!” Kayla fights her, trying to twist free.
But Bay doesn’t flinch. She raised a son who turned into a tsunami of uncontained craziness. Kayla is nothing compared to that.
“I trusted you not to ruin my date!” she yells, fists clenched, tears in her eyes. She’s not crying for the right reasons, and it shows.
Before I can snap back, Myko’s roar explodes through the restroom—so loud it shakes the walls and makes the floor tremble.
Kayla freezes.
She knows better than to argue with Myko. Good.
“I hate you!” she screams at me, then storms out with Bay dragging her behind.
And now?
The glow under my skin hums, ready. I can finally focus on my first meal of the day.