Some part of the sexual release seemed to sate him back to sanity, but his horns are still too long and his eyes are too black. Then I notice the slashes of red across where his flesh is broken or healing.
Someone hurt him.
The Guard.
"Must eat," he finally says in a low grumble. "Help me, Evie."
It takes a couple of tries before I can stand on my shaking legs. I stumble like a newborn colt to the bathroom. I’m going to be sore for weeks, but I need to push past that right now. I need to clean myself up and get out there. If I don’t get Shadow a human heart soon, he might lose all sense again and take mine.
The Lost Ones
Istand before a swanky club less than an hour later, its exterior sleek and inviting. The neon lights cast a seductive glow on the patrons lined up outside. I feel Shadow nearby. I’m edgy and nervous to get this over with.
Though Shadow is invisible, he's always there, watching, waiting, trusting me to feed his needs. But I need to work quickly before he finds the wrong mark for his meal.
I adjust the straps of my dress, the luxurious fabric sliding against my skin. Its blood-red color is fitting for the work I’m about to do. After watching more videos on the library’s computer the last couple of weeks, I’m confident my makeup is done to perfection. Dark and alluring, it’s a mask that hides my true intentions. It took extra time to cover my bruises with concealer. It’s difficult to walk with a natural gait as my muscles seize with stiffness and a raw pain radiates from between my legs. My chest also aches despite being healed.
The things we endure for love.
As I step forward, the bouncer gives me a nod, recognizing the predator in me.
I’ve learned I don’t need to wait in any lines when I look like I do. They need me here as much as I need to be here.
Knowing Shadow is watching, I glance back one last time before I disappear into the throng of the club to find my next mark.
The club's interior is a stark contrast to the dive bars I've frequented. The air is heavy with expensive perfumes, the lights dim yet inviting, and the music is a sultry rhythm that beckons the wealthy and powerful.
My usual divey haunts have started getting a reputation for people disappearing. I need to diversify the hunting field, so tonight I’m stepping onto fresh new ground.
Gound I expect to be just as soiled.
The thing about bad people is that they are connected to other bad people. The last guy Shadow feasted on ran a drug ring from his squalid apartment, a place reeking of chemicals and desperation.
Among the clutter and chaos, we found a pile of matchbooks from a club called The Twisted Halo.When I brushed my fingers over a small packet, it sang to me in a chorus of opulence and corruption.
Adjusting my dress so it highlights my contoured breasts, I wonder if my mind is truly lost. Matchsticks singing to me...
I grab a drink from the bar as I wonder for the hundredth time if I should be locked away in a cozy little padded cell. But as long as Shadow is on the run from the Guard, I will put myself on the line to get him what he needs.
We take care of each other. Monster to monster.
As I weave through the club, the soft thud of the bass vibrates under my feet. The rhythm of the music intertwines with the beat of my heart. The low lights circle overhead, giving me glimpses of the shadowy figures around me.
I catch sight of a man snorting fine white powder off a woman’s ample cleavage. She tugs down the top of her dress so he can wrap his lips around her nipple after he’s finished.
Two women sip martinis as the man between them slides cash to one of them under the table. Their teasing fingers pull him by the lapels to a back room.
A young, attractive man with wholesome looks and a hesitant smile strikes me as out of his element here. A lamb among wolves. Maybe brought here by coworkers? As he watches the DJ spinning tracks under the dancing purple lights, he doesn’t notice the older woman next to him slip something into his drink before cheers-ing him. Unaware, he throws back the contents.
I pause for a moment and close my eyes, letting my other senses guide me. I can taste the hedonism in the air, mingled with something more sinister. It’s fruity and bright with a dark undertone that is cloying to my senses. There’s the clink of glasses, the rustle of silk dresses, and the occasional laugh that rings a bit too loudly. There’s something dark and depraved here that pulses like a life beat to everything around me.
When I open my eyes, I see him—a man whose aura screams power and menace. Thick dark hair, square jaw, expensive suit, and eyes that glint with a keen malevolence. He's surrounded by people, yet is somehow isolated in his dominance. The way he watches the crowd like a king surveying his court tells me everything I need to know.
Everyone here is his slave whether they know it or not.
A part of me hesitates to target him. While I usually pick the rats on the outskirts, this man seems to be at the center of everything. But I know in my gut he has to be the one.
As I start moving toward him, the hairs rise on the back of my neck and gooseflesh breaks out everywhere on my body. Someone is watching. I slow my steps and glance over my shoulder as casually as I can.
