My hands were just fucking glowing!
Or maybe they weren’t, and I am exhausted.
I’m definitely losing my mind.
I’m a nurse. I see this kind of stuff every day. Patients come in claiming they’re seeing the impossible. We give them a psych evaluation, a cocktail of drugs, and send them on their merry way. But I’mnotsupposed to bethe patient. I’mnotsupposed to walk into the hospital, talk to Kevin, and say,‘Hey, can I grab some Ativan and benzos for the mental breakdown I’m currently experiencing?’
Slumping back onto the mattress, I flop my forearm over my face, tears welling in my eyes, my heart rapid-firing in my chest as I try to calm my breathing. “You’re gonna be fine. You need to sleep this off, and everything will be back to normal in themorning, you’ll see. And maybe stop talking to yourself, too, Sloane.Thatmight be helpful.”
Sliding my legs off the side of the bed, I get changed into my pajamas, pull back the covers, and slip in. A long breath escapes me, and I close my eyes and try to relax. Finally, my body begins to ease, my muscles unclench, and somehow, I unwind, but as I start to drift off, another vision floats behind my eyes. This time, it’s not the stalker woman who haunts me, it’s the man from the bar.
And he doesn’t scare me…
Heelectrifiesme.
Chapter Four
CRAVE
The Next Night
The bass thrums through the floor of Sins & Spirits, a steady pulse that mimics a heartbeat I no longer possess. I sit in my usual spot, a corner booth tucked into the shadows where I can watch everything and everyone, without being watched in return.Old habits.When you’ve been a predator for millennia, you never sit with your back to the door.
Seraphine is on stage, her voice wrapping around the crowd, smooth as silk and sweet as honey. The siren’s gift is subtle tonight, just enough to keep the humans relaxed, pliant, spending their money without realizing they’re under a spell. Her song pulls at their desires, makes them think staying for one more drink is their idea.
Even Seraphine’s most potent melodies fail to touch me, slipping away without effect. The Bloodfire burning in my veins, an ancient hunger that once defined every breath, barely flickers now.
Fed but never satisfied.
Alive but not living.
Centuries have carved me hollow, leaving power without passion, strength without feeling, a goddamn void where the fire used to be.
Bored out of my immortal mind.
I take a sip of whiskey, not because I can get drunk, I can’t, but because holding a glass gives me something to do with my hands. Something other than wrapping them around throats, hearts, and the past I keep trying to bury under layers of civility and motorcycle club politics.
Rogue is at the bar, chatting up a human woman who has no idea she’s flirting with a lycan who could tear her apart without breaking a sweat. Scorch is playing pool with some locals, a cigarette hanging off his lips to make the smoke curling from his nostrils look natural every time he misses a shot, which isn’t often. The dragon shifter hates losing more than he hates most things, and he hates most things.
It’s Sunday night, and Sins & Spirits is packed. Humans are mixing with supernaturals, none of them the wiser. That’s the beauty of theLaw of Silence. We walk among them, live among them, and they never know what’s right beside them. It’s protection for both sides and keeps the humans from panicking. Keeps us from being hunted.
Mostly, it keeps me from remembering what I used to be.
A monster.
A killer.
A member of the Coven of Crows, who painted villages red just because we could.
I shake off the memory and scan the room again. Oracle is in the back, his phoenix fire casting strange shadows as he reads tarot cards for a drunk college kid who thinks it’s all a joke. Hex is behind his laptop at a side table, probably hacking into someone’s bank account. Hades is conspicuously absent—the necromancer doesn’t do well in crowds. Too many dead voices, he says.
The door opens, letting in a blast of cool fall air.
And everything in me goes still.
Not physically, I don’t breathe anyway, but something deeper stops. The Bloodfire I thought was dormant, that ancient hunger I’ve been suppressing for centuries, itmoves.
Stirs.
