Chapter 2
Techno music blared like a thumping pulse. The multi-million dollar mansion sat on top of a bluff in Sand Point. It screamed for attention—a desperate plea.
Exotic cars lined the drive. A crowd had spilled out onto the front lawn. Laurent strode past, ignoring the gaping looks in his direction. The elbow jabs as people pointed him out. As they parted to let him by.
Bodies crowded the entry, staggering past one another, hands clenched around beer bottles and red cups. Drinks sloshed to the floor as people jostled, attempting to mingle and dance.
Several centuries younger, and this would have been a feast. Instead, the unpleasant stench of sweat and flesh made his nose sting. He nearly gagged—
“Wretched creatures,” he muttered before striding through the crowd.
He’d received a tip that Kath’ur would be here. Demons didn’t smell like humans. Brimstone and smoke poisoned their essence. He followed the obvious tell into the mansion until—
He froze, taking a deeper inhale. Something different flooded his senses, rich vanilla with a hint of florals.
A dull ache blossomed in his gums until a moment later, it faded.
Almost as if he’d imagined it. He gave his head a subtle shake, then moved on, using his keen ears to rifle through the hundreds of conversations taking place all over the property.
He honed in on one.
“…you have to try this stuff, babe. It’s better than any drug you’ve ever had.”
“You…you’re sure? It looks kinda gross. What’s it called again?”
“Red Allure. It’s the best high you’ll ever feel, trust me.”
Laurent spun on his heel, stalking down the hall. His fists clenched with each step. He shook them out almost immediately, forcing himself to relax. He entered a cozy den and found a small group of young adults lounging near an unlit fireplace, stalking over to them.
One of the partiers held a small glass vial, already half empty. His gaze zeroed in on it, lips pulling back to bare his teeth in a snarl.
“Woah…” the young man said, looking up at him. “Damn. This stuff is good.”
“Where did you get that?” Laurent demanded.
“Hey dude, great cosplay. You’re supposed to be from that one show, right?” He snapped his fingers, looking over at his friends for help. “Shadowlands, isn’t it—?”
“I asked you a question,” Laurent said, his voice a lethal calm.
“Hey, dude, how am I supposed to know where he went? If you’re looking to buy, you’d better—hey! That’s mine!”
Laurent lifted the vial and drained it, letting the blood wash over his lips, his tongue, and down his throat. A rush of memories accompanied it. He swore, knowing immediately who it belonged to. Hassan Sadiq. His eyes closed briefly. He tossed the empty vial back at its owner.
“Hey, what the fuck, dude?! You going to pay for that?” The young man jumped off the couch and surged toward him. Laurent moved fast—inhumanly fast. He wrapped his fingers around the man’s throat and tossed him backwards onto the couch before fleeing the room.
“Hey! What the fuck?!” Several shouts followed him down the hall.
He strode into the kitchen, searching for Kath’ur. People stood about, mingling, mixing drinks. They stopped to gape when they noticed him. A few called out, but he ignored their words.
The demon’s scent grew more pronounced.
He entered the home’s kitchen where it was the strongest, tracking it across the room. Glass doors led out onto the back patio. Several figures lounged around the pool, illuminated by outdoor lights. He quickened his pace, reaching for the door’s knob—
And froze.
A wave of Vanilla and florals struck him—the same soft scent from before.
Only this time it was more potent. Poisoned by the sharp tang of something rancid.
Fear. The primal part of him responded, shattering his logic and replacing it with instinct.
He hesitated a second longer, eyes fixed on the figures outside, then changed direction. Kath’ur would have to wait.
He’d found something far better.
With his vampire speed, it took seconds to climb the back stairs and reach the door at the end of the hallway.
“No, stop,” a voice cried from the other side. Female. “You’re hurting me! Daniel, stop!”
“Be still!”
He twisted the knob with enough force to rip the metal free, and strode in.
What he found made him snarl. Daniel—presumably—was pinning a female to the bed. His female. Laurent ripped him off and flung him across the room.
She gasped, her eyes going wide, then scrambled upright, inching off the bed to stand.
Daniel struggled to his feet, swaying drunkenly. “What the fuck, man?! Get out!”
Laurent darted across the room. It took less than a millisecond to eliminate the obstacle before him. Daniel dropped to the floor, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle.
Behind him, the female cried out. “Oh my, God! Is he...? Did you...?!”
The scent of her fear intensified—everything about it wrong.
She inched backward toward the door, eyes wide. The predator in him exploded to the surface. He blocked her retreat, taking hold of her face, locking onto her eyes. “Don’t worry about Daniel,” he willed, using some of his magic to calm her. Her muscles relaxed, though her eyes remained wary.
Then he inhaled deeply. How could he not breathe her in? Her scent heavy, saturating the air, invading his senses, his mind. His head fell back in appreciation of his good fortune.
“I haven’t smelled something like you in centuries,” he growled, triumphant.
The demon he’d been hunting for weeks suddenly seemed insignificant compared to the treasure before him.
He took a moment to study her. She was dressed in a blood red gown, as if she’d wrapped herself up just for him.
How delightful. Her thick black hair nearly swallowed the light.
Her eyes, bluer than a glacier, stared at him.
But it was her skin, her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, her heaving chest, her lush breasts accentuated by her corset, that left him struggling for control.
She exhaled and he scented alcohol on her breath. How unfortunate. He’d found himself a useless party girl. But what did it matter?
Most men would take a single look at her and want what was beneath her dress. Him? He wanted what was beneath her skin. Wanted it more than he cared to admit.
“What a precious little flower you are.”
Her brows furrowed.
Where had she been hiding all this time?
“I should get back to the party,” she said uncertainly, trying to pull free of him. His grip tightened, keeping her face framed in his palms.
“Back to the party?” His voice dropped low. “Oh no. You’re coming with me.”
She blinked, eyes darting over his face. He knew what she would see. The silvery white strands of his hair, his sharp vampiric features, the way his eyes were flooded black with bloodlust. Bloodlust for her. He was barely hanging on by a thread.
For a moment, there was only silence between them. Then—
She burst into raucous laughter, making him flinch. “Wow. You’re good. You’re really good. Taegan, right? From Shadowlands?”
His hunger fractured. He released her face like it had burned him. “Shadowlands?”
“The elf king. Taegan. You’re cosplaying him and this is all a rescue act.
” She giggled making her face light up. He stared, transfixed, unable to look elsewhere.
“Holy shit! I’m supposed to be the damsel in distress!
Wait. Is this being filmed? Is that why you knocked Daniel out? Are there cameras in here—?”
“Enough,” he snarled. Humans and their fucking television.
The smile vanished from her face. She stared at him and something shifted in her expression. “This is a joke, right?” Her voice was smaller now, uncertain.
“The only joke,” he bit out, “is that you would insult me so thoroughly. Come. We are leaving.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out into the hallway. She stumbled after him.
“Wait, stop. What are you…? You’re hurting me. Let go!”
He didn’t respond, but he did loosen his grip to avoid bruising her. She whimpered, stumbling after him in her heels. “Okay. Okay! I don’t want to play anymore. Let me go! Seriously.”
He dragged her down the hallway toward the stairs. As they reached the top of the grand staircase, the party came into full view—and they came into view of the party.
“Stop!” she shouted, growing frantic, twisting and pulling against him. “Someone—make this guy stop!”
Heads turned. Conversations stopped. Then the excitement exploded.
“Holy shit, is that Taegan?” someone shouted from below.
“This is incredible! Are you filming this?”
“Kase never told us there’d be live entertainment!”
Phones appeared everywhere throughout the crowd, people angling for the best shots as Laurent began dragging her down the stairs. Her desperate struggle only made them cheer louder, treating it like the performance of a lifetime.
Her voice cut off. Then her knees buckled. He was ready for that trick. He spun, catching her up in his arms. He caught a glimpse of her wide, blue eyes before carefully tossing her over his shoulder. The crowd below went feral.
“Ania!” she screamed, beating her fists against his back, struggling to squirm free. “Ania, help me!”
“This is going viral!” someone shouted.
“Best party ever!”
He let out a dark chuckle but said nothing, stepping off the stairs and striding through the mansion.
Phones tracked his every movement, people stepping aside to get better angles.
Her screams lifted over the thumping music, but not a single person tried to stop them.
And that’s how he hauled her right through the front door, past hundreds of partygoers who all thought they were witnessing the entertainment event of the year.