I close my eyes involuntarily, an image immediately springing to vivid life behind my lids. Blood everywhere, intestines strung out like forgotten party streamers. Like this morning with Lennie, but worse because there would be more.
Shit.
Would War spawn magic feel different enough at this distancefor me to tell? If the brothers were already dead… maybe. As always, I don’t fucking know for sure how it all works. I didn’t want to be part of this world, so once again, I’m paying the price for my ignorance.
“No, no, no!” Aadesh shouts.
I bolt up the remaining steps and cut hard to the right, ignoring the closed doors where the moaning is coming from, to head for the room at the end of the hall. Light pours out into the dark hallway in a bright slash, and from inside, a sudden outcry of voices.
I burst into the room, anticipating another scene of brutal slaughter.
Instead, I find Aadesh standing in front of a gigantic television, headset on, controller in a slack hand at his side. A half dozen of the other brothers—Logan, Cameron, Braden are the only ones I know—are scattered around the room, on the floor and on the worn leather couch, similarly attired.
It takes me a second to identify Devon sitting among them, dressed as he is now in a sleeveless Theta Iota T-shirt and loose-fitting gray sweats.
On-screen, a virtual explosion is still rolling outward toward the edges of the television frame. If there’s any death in here, it’s purely virtual.
“—win again?” Aadesh is asking as I jerk to a halt just inside the threshold.
Immediately Aadesh pivots to face me, and the others scramble to their feet, blocking my view of Devon.
“You need to get out of here,” Aadesh says. His dark eyes are endless pools, dazed and empty of their normal sharp intelligence, indicating Devon’s influence.
“Aadesh, it’s me,” I try. But he doesn’t seem to hear.
“He doesn’t want you here,” Logan says, advancing on me. “None of us do. You’re trespassing.” His gaze rakes over me, head to toe.
A tiny frisson of fear traces its way through my body. Lust is not always about seduction. It can be about the thrill of power over another.
And I’m here alone, facing off with six men, who are under the sway of magic, all of whom are taller, stronger, and likely faster than I am? If I were a full-on human female, I’d be scared. And smart to be.
As it is, though, this is just a leftover inborn response, from generations of women before me, passing on their shared experiences through the evolution of the species.
The part of me that isn’t human stretches and uncurls itself, awakening after its large meal. Desire, one that has nothing to do with sex, rises up in me.
Show them.Takefrom them.
Conquer.
Feed.
I shake my head, curling my hands into fists against temptation to reach out.I won’t. They have no idea what they’re doing. Also, how stupid do you have to be to run around feeding when the cops already think you’re guilty of murder?
Still mostly sated for the moment, the nonhuman part of me relents, curling up and going back to sleep.
That being said, enough is enough.
I lean around to look through a gap between the brothers to Devon, who hasn’t moved from his seat on the sofa. Instead, he appears to be watching the confrontation warily, as if this is a testI’m supposed to pass and he’s not sure which way it’s going to go. His green eyes catch mine, sending the electric zip of attraction through me, and he lifts a brow in question.
I hate this. I hate not knowing what’s going on. And I especially hate that even eye contact with him sparks a flare in me that I can’t completely ignore.
“Knock it off,” I say flatly. “They’re not your cannon fodder, okay? You can’t just use them to hide.”
I’m not sure what I expected his response to this to be. Laughter, perhaps? Or a sneer of disgust that I care so much about a bunch of humans? Instead, he simply nods, his silent question seemingly answered. I still have no idea what the question was.
The mood in the room immediately eases, and the brothers relax into more natural positions. “Gentlemen, can we have the room, please?” Devon asks, sitting forward on the couch.
“Oh, come on, we need a rematch,” Logan says. “You can show us more of your… skills.” He winks at Devon.
