It’s been ten days now since I completed my last mission. I know that the cleaners have already sent Stannik’s head and the blood-infused marker back to Moonshadow Hall as proof of my kill because a purse filled with gold coins as my cut of the bounty was delivered this morning. Still, there’s been no word from Roren yet.

  I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

  My mind crawls as Zeph stirs. ‘He’s angry.’

  “Probably, no thanks to you.”

  ‘I regret nothing.’

  “Of course you don’t.”

  He retreats without another word or an apology. Not that I should expect one, anyway. He hates when I hold him back.

  In a way, I’m no different than the monsters I hunt.

  With a sigh I toss back the rest of my whiskey, grimacing at the burn it leaves behind as it sloshes down my throat. Setting the empty glass on the table, I let my eyes wander over my surroundings.

  The hotel room is spacious enough, and honestly one of the better ones I’ve stayed in over the years, with floor-to-ceiling windows that lead out to a furnished balcony. The oversized bed is firm but comfortable, and the plush L-shaped sofa on the other side of the circular dining table faces an ornate stone fireplace. Several paintings hang along the walls, each one a colorfully bland depiction of landscapes and townships, and the bathroom—nearly half the size of the room, itself—is the epitome of luxury.

  It’s a bit fanciful for my taste, but as part of the Society’s network of safe houses the Gilded Crown Inn is as good a place as any to lay low and rest my head while I wait for my next assignment. I can only hope that I don’t have to wait for much longer.

  Grabbing my case of dokha cigarettes and a lighter from a small desk in the corner, I forgo refilling my glass and instead carry the whiskey decanter out to the balcony. The morning air is cool against my skin as a breeze tousles my hair, wavy strands brushing against bare shoulders as I light a cigarette. Taking a drag, I place the whiskey on a nearby end table and lean over the glass balustrade. Far removed from the crime-ridden Southside of Trinity Valley, the city looks peaceful from nineteen stories up.

  It’s not often that I get to enjoy moments like this. Sometimes, I find myself wishing that it could last just a little bit longer.

  ‘Nothing good lasts forever. You of all people know that.’

  My fingers reflexively grasp for the pendant and I look down. The blackstone amulet, cut into the shape of a pointed oval, has a smooth winding curve on one side and intricate winged edges on the other. Tiny engravings line the polished surface and a brilliant sapphire is inlaid in its hollowed center.

  Closing my eyes, I let out another puff of smoke. It’s foolish of me to carry such a trinket; even more so to wear it so openly. I took an oath when I became a hunter, a promise to shed myself from the shackles of my past. Such bonds would only serve to hold me back and a Bladesworn is no good to the Society if they are burdened by who they once were.

  And yet, I still can’t bring myself to part with it or the memories it holds. I guess, somewhere deep down, there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to forget—or is afraid to.

  But Zeph’s right, as much as I hate to admit it. Nothing good ever lasts in this world. Not for me.

  A hard knock at the door draws my attention. From his perch on the couch, Spooky growls warily.

  “Easy, boy,” I say, clicking my tongue against my teeth as I flick the unfinished cigarette over the edge, but even my senses are alert. If the concierge needed to pass along a message, they would ring the aurix box sitting under the lamp on the bedside table, as is common practice in most inns. Housekeeping makes their routine visits at dawn and I’m not expecting company.

  Another knock, louder this time, and quickly I take off the necklace and walk to the dresser. Burying it under a pile of clothes, I unsheath one of my daggers and curse. Wearing only a black skintight bandeau and matching shorts, I’m hardly dressed for combat. But it’ll have to do.

  ‘Like you have anything to fear.’

  I trust my blades. I don’t trust unexpected guests.

  ‘Your concern is insulting.’

  Shut up, Zeph. I’m handling this one.

  I’m at the door just as a third series of raps rattles the white-painted wood on its hinges. Spooky is sitting upright now, his golden eyes alert and unblinking, fur standing on end as he stares in cautious anticipation. Giving him a terse nod, I grip the dagger behind my back and, inhaling deeply, turn the deadbolt and throw open the door.

  A tall lean woman with dark eyes and long, immaculately-straight black hair is standing in the hallway. The dress she’s wearing stands out boldly against her ebony skin and perfectly matches the shade of red painted on her full lips.

  I blink in disbelief at the sexy vixen with six-inch stilettos and lust in her eyes. “Cat?”

  “Hello, Ashe,” she purrs, her sultry tone sending shivers up my spine. Her gaze shifts to the arm tucked out of sight and she tilts her head as a wicked grin alights her face. “Cutting to the foreplay already, I see.”

  ‘Finally, some excitement! I was growing bored.’

  I ignore Zeph and return her smirk. “Can’t be too careful in my line of work.” Twirling the dagger around in my hand, I step aside and invite Catalina in. “This isn’t part of your usual rotation. What brings you back to Trinity Valley so soon?”

  “The boring drab of politics, I’m afraid.”

  Slender fingers, long nails dipped in a bright crimson polish, caress my cheek as she walks by. The smell of her perfume, an intoxicating woody aroma with hints of spice and vanilla undertones, fills the air and my skin prickles. She’s as seductive as she is deadly.

  I close and lock the door behind us. “How’d you find out where I was staying?”

  “I followed my nose, love. I can track your scent for miles.”

  ‘How sweet. She missed me.’

  By the gods, Zeph, just shut the fuck up!

  She sets her handbag down on the cocktail table. Spooky hisses as she approaches and, amusingly, Catalina hisses back. He never does like it when she visits.

  I click my tongue. “Scram, Spooks.”

  The khaji musters one last growl before hopping off the sofa and trudging out onto the balcony. He could use some sun, anyway.

  “Why do you keep that thing?”

  A flicker of anger pulses against my temple as Zeph seethes. ‘Spooky is a friend, not a thing. Tell her to apologize!’

  I bite back a laugh. For all his faults and our disagreements, Zeph and I at least agree on some things.

  “We share a bond.” I place the dagger next to Catalina’s handbag and take a seat at the opposite end of the couch. “Did you really only stop by so you could tease me and insult my cat, or was there something you wanted?” I ask, though I’m sure that I already know the answer. She only ever sought me out for one thing—not that I minded.

  She kicks off her heels and crosses one leg over the other. “I heard that you were in town and thought I’d pay you a visit. It’s been far too long since we last saw each other.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “You heard I was in town?”

  “Well you weren’t exactly subtle, darling. News that a hunter was stalking the streets has been all over the tabloids these last few days.”

  I scoff and wave a dismissive hand. “Sorry, I don’t pay much attention to gossip.”

  Sightings of hooded figures in the night weren’t exactly common, but they weren’t much to go on, either. Still, the rumor mill loved to spin its wheels and the mysterious allure of the Bladesworn was their favorite subject.

  “Oh, but you would have loved this last issue. It’s a real head-turner.” She traces a nail across her throat and my blood turns to ice in my veins.

  “Someone saw the body?”

  “They did more than see it. They took pictures. I wonder what the public will think once they link those images with the rumors already circulating around?” She leans forward, a devilish glint in her eye as she adds, “Imagine the outcry if people knew what secrets you hunters really keep.”

  ‘Whoops.’

  My jaw tenses. “They could say it was a demon attack.” It wasn’t entirely untrue.

  “This close to the city?” Catalina tsks. “Come now, Ashe, we both know that would’ve been a hard sell.”

  She’s right. Trinity Valley is the seat of the Imperium Arcana’s prestigious magic school and as a result is well fortified against threats from the Rifts. Aside from the smaller settlements clinging to the fringes of civilization, there hasn’t been a demon sighting this far from Caelysia’s borders in centuries.

  Fuck. Is that why Roren hasn’t reached out to me yet?

  ‘He’s definitely angry.’

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  No shit.

  The existence of the Blades Society isn’t exactly a secret. The world knows what we do and, to an extent, our organization relies on that same notoriety to secure new business. Word of mouth can be as powerful as any marketing campaign—the state in which I had left Stannik’s body in, however, was too gruesome even by our standards.

  ‘A hunter’s work is like a painting,’ Roren would say, ‘the hand of the artist is known but never seen.’ I had made sure that there were no witnesses and the cleaners would have disposed of the body long before it was ever found.

  ‘Someone didn’t play by the rules.’

  “There’s always one, isn’t there?” I mutter aloud.

  Catalina purses her lips. “I wish you would come to me when these little cravings strike. You know my services are always available to you.”

  It’s not like I haven’t taken her up on her offer before. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “I’m in the business of pleasure, darling, and you’re hardly an imposition.” When I don’t immediately respond, she tuts and fans a palm between us. “Oh, stop fretting your pretty little head about it. The situation has been dealt with.”

  So that’s why she’s here.

  Just as the Imperium has to deal with rogue mages and the ferae struggle to resist their primal cravings during a full moon, it’s not unheard of for a vitaari to go mad with hunger. It does make the rocky waters of politics tricky to navigate, though, and the Society has been contracted many times to deal with these kinds of internal affairs.

  But in this case, it seems that the Society is the one being bailed out.

  “You made him look like the victim of a vitaari attack, didn’t you?”

  Catalina tips her chin in a nod. “We have our own house to clean and the ferae are tactless when it comes to political theater. Still, humans fear the darker side of the moon. They wouldn’t think twice to question it.”

  ‘A convincing deception, indeed.’

  It’s a believable ploy, but it still doesn’t sit right with me. I’m sure the media was all too eager to eat up her story, though. “Cat—”

  “Diplomacy is a fine art, love, and I owe Roren a favor or two for taking care of some of my more . . . personal matters.” Her red lips part in a smile and I catch a glimpse of her elongated canines; at least she wasn’t too upset by the ordeal, otherwise I’d be staring down rows of deadly teeth instead of just her dinner fangs. “As for the cleaner who leaked those heliographs—well, as I said, the situation has been dealt with.”

  Although using magic to capture moments in time and transform them into still images is hardly anything new, only recently has the technology been refined enough for personal use. Heliography, I think it’s called, though the intricacies into how the camera actually works is anyone’s guess.

  Gods damn those artificers and their gadgets.

  I groan and hang my head over the back of the couch.

  This isn’t the first time Catalina has used her status as an emissary to divert attention away from the Society, but she has a good relationship with Roren and he’s scratched her back on more than one occasion. She never makes a move that isn’t calculated and, to her, favors are like currency. This would mean that the Society now owes her a debt and Catalina isn’t shy when it comes to collecting what’s owed her.

  “Quit pouting. It’s not a good look for you.”

  “A hunter should know better.” I should have known better.

  “Well you certainly did make a mess of things.” Something nudges my leg and I look down to see Catalina’s foot resting on my thigh. When did she get so close? “But all’s not lost. Debts have been settled and your little slip up has brought us together once more.”

  Realization hits me like a slap to the face and I narrow my eyes. “Did you even miss me at all or is this just a business transaction to you?”

  Her eyes dip, drinking in my appearance, and she licks her lips. “Would you believe me if I said it’s both?”

  My insides stir. ‘I am no one’s prey.’

  “It’s not nice to play with your food, Cat.”

  A laugh escapes her throat and despite it all I smile back at the pleasant sound. She is alluring in every sense of the word, though I suppose that’s part of the vitaari’s charm.

  “You enjoy the game, love,” she purrs, her voice low as she inches closer. “Almost as much as I do.”

  As our eyes meet, Catalina’s irises begin to swirl. The chocolate brown hues melt away as flecks of maroon emerge from the shadowy depths and the roiling waves of her lust hit me like a violent sea storm, igniting a heat between my legs.

  The vitaari may be masters of persuasion, their charm able to seduce any unsuspecting victim and bend them to their will, but despite Zeph’s power even I find it difficult to resist the pull of an elder’s gaze.

  “Hungry today, aren’t we?”

  “I can’t help it around you,” she admits, skating the tips of her fingers over my exposed abdomen. “You’re my favorite snack.”

  Her nails trace soft circles against my stomach and my body responds. Red eyes sear into mine as she mounts me, lifting her dress higher, hunger clouding her vision as another wave of desire washes over me. It stirs my own cravings and stimulates Zeph’s appetite.

  “Is that all we are to you?” I growl, threading fingers through her dark hair. My voice is hollow, matching her predatory tone as Zeph surges to the forefront of my mind. “A fucking snack?”

  Her smirk widens. “There she is.”

  In a rush of frustration I capture Catalina’s lips in mine, my body aching to be touched. She returns the kiss in equal fervor and a moan escapes me. It’s been far too long.

  Her hunger is always overpowering and the deeper she kisses the weaker I feel. She saps my energy with every intake of breath against my mouth, every flick of her tongue as it traces my lips, draining my body as if I had been working out in the heat all day. If it wasn’t for the demon blood coursing through my veins then the intensity of her kiss would most certainly be lethal—stealing breath, the vitaari call it, but she never bothers showing restraint with me nor I with her.

  Wrapped in each other’s arms, we can be our true selves.

  Her desire continues to assault my senses as she pulls at my scant clothing with a primal groan. Her tongue explores my mouth, coaxing out and consuming my life force as her hands roam over every inch of me, and a familiar heat radiates from within. It overpowers the carnal ache of my body and crawls under my skin like liquid fire. The friction rubs against Zeph’s senses like a hand stroking a cat’s spine one too many times, until the pleasure snaps instantly into a need to bite.

  Desire crashes against me like an ocean swell. As I give in to the sensation, running my fingers along her dark skin and through her silky hair, my own hunger stirs and with refound strength I wrap her legs around my waist and stand.

  Her passion tastes sweet, her lips soft, and her scent tantalizing.

  I breathe it all in.

  She pulls my bottom lip into hers, sharp teeth grazing against flesh, her need cascading over me like a waterfall and enveloping my senses until my sanity is drowning in it. Fire licks at the corners of my eyes. My skin ripples with a dangerous urge as Zeph begins to feed and soon I become lost in it.

  In a blur of motion I carry her to the bed, our lips still locked in silent hunger. We become a tangled mess of limbs and sheets.

  Her nails drag across my back, snagging on the fabric of my bandeau and I press my body closer in response, inhaling deeply as she moans against my mouth and saps my energy once more. It’s a strange mix of euphoria and fatigue, like a hot shower after an ice bath. Her lust is a precipice and I’m teetering on the edge, ready to fall at any given moment.

  My hand slips under her dress, traveling up her thigh until my palm brushes against a valley of smooth silk. Without hesitation I curl my fingers around the hem of her underwear and plunge them into the steamy depths of her passion.

  A breathy gasp sends shivers racing down my spine and instinctively I pulse deeper, desperate to hear that sound again. To feel the warmth of her breath on my neck as her nails rake my skin. To taste her desire on my tongue.

  My arms shake with exhaustion as I feel my energy pass between our lips, but another thrust unleashes a new burst of her lust and Zeph hungrily laps it up, reveling in the surge of power as the flavor of her arcanum renews our vigor.

  Needful thoughts invade our mind, guiding our every touch as Catalina quivers beneath us. Her passion boils over until it spreads through us and we consume it, allowing it to seep into our tired bones.

  “A-Ashe.”

  Her moans against our mouth only fuel the growing hunger inside and we attack just as eagerly, relentless in our craving for more.

  Her hips buck and I thrust harder. She cries out in ecstasy and Zeph swallows it whole.

  “Ashe?”

  My body is on fire and the thick aroma of her arousal pulsates in the air between us as wave after wave rocks my core, dragging my mind over the edge as it threatens to consume.

  Lust is a deadly desire, a forbidden fruit, and yet its essence tastes the sweetest when in the throes of passion. I coax it from her with every precise stroke of my hand, inhaling the sin laced in her screams like a drug as it ignites the fire within me.

  Catalina writhes under me, her gasps like music to my ears as she digs her nails deeper into my flesh. Our lips part for only a moment as she sucks in air, another moan rattling in her throat as my thumb teases her most sensitive part. My energy ebbs away and in a rage I increase my efforts, chasing after the high and seeking to devour the cause of our hunger.

  To satisfy the burning desire clawing at our insides, we’re prepared to tear her apart.

  “Ashe!”

  A searing pain seizes my neck, jolting my senses, and I jerk back with a hiss.

  ‘She bit us!’

  “What the—!”

  A fierce haze clouds my sight, the flames dancing in my eyes painting everything around me in various shades of gray. A quick glance down and I see my skin radiating like molten lava in grayscale moonlight. Below me, Catalina’s body is engulfed in the fiery red aura of her own lust.

  Before I can react, darkness creeps into my vision and a fog settles over me, dulling my senses and lulling Zeph and I into a slumber. The inferno that raged within us only moments ago dwindles down to a low simmer, the heat dissipating as our eyelids grow heavy.

  The last thing we see before our body succumbs to the dark is a pair of burning red eyes staring up at us through the gray.

  ***

  When I wake up the sun has already crossed the sky.

  A luminous glow emanates from the windows, spilling into the room and casting shadows on the walls. My body aches and my head feels groggy as I slowly sit myself up in the bed. The familiar tickle at the back of my mind is dull, barely a whisper in the dark; Zeph must still be sleeping.

  What the hell happened?

  “Good, you’re awake.”

  I look up to see Catalina leaning against the open doorframe, my dagger dangling loosely in one hand and an unreadable expression masking her face. A loose-fitting shirt and a pair of baggy shorts now drape her frame in lieu of the dress she arrived in earlier, and I find myself thinking how remarkably human she looks in my clothes.

  “Cat?” I blink and run a hand over my face. “What time is it?”

  “Well past midday. You’ve been out for the last few hours, now.”

  She taps the flat of the blade against her thigh, careful to avoid touching her skin with the silvered edge, and I quirk a brow. “Was I that bad?”

  “It’s not the worst I’ve had, but at least now I don’t have to kill you.” She chuckles and sets the dagger on top of the dresser. Her usually straight hair is mussed, like the aftermath of a windstorm, and a quick glance down reveals that I’m no longer clothed.

  Shit.

  The fog slowly lifts from my mind and I squeeze my eyes shut. The last thing I remember is a sharp pain and a flash of fangs. Instinctively, I press two fingers to the side of my neck. The spot is still tender, but the healing enzymes in her saliva would have sealed the wound almost instantly. The lasting effects of her venom, however, will leave me with a headache for most of the day.

  “Did you knock me out?”

  “You ruined my dress,” she explains, motioning to the tattered red fabric strewn across the floor, but a sly smile is plastered to her lips all the same. “It’s been a while since you were that passionate.”

  I remember Zeph’s hunger stirring inside me as we fucked, an intensity that burned in my throat and clawed at my mind, but we’ve done this countless times without incident. Why is it such a big deal now?

  “I’ve fed from you before—”

  “Not like this you haven’t. You were insatiable, Ashe, out of control. If I hadn’t put a stop to it then you would have killed me. Or worse.”

  At a loss for words, I offer her a nonchalant shrug. “Not as much fun when someone else does it, is it?”

  “It’s not the same, love,” she chides. “And not that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy myself, but it wouldn’t have been pretty for either of us had I let you continue.”

  Yeah, no shit. That’s the problem.

  Giving in to the demon’s hunger is a slippery slope. While I’ve come to terms with the hard truth that feedings like this are necessary, sometimes Zeph has a mind of his own. Despite years of rigorous training, balance is the key. Controlled feedings may take the edge off without the kill but consuming is a choice. We feed to sustain, taking only what we need to to survive; we consume monsters—and scumbags like Stannik—to make the world a little less dark.

  But if that line is blurring, then I have a lot more to worry about than an enraged vitaari.

  “It’s getting late, Cat.” I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, frowning against the dizziness that follows. “You should go.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’ve had more than my fill and there’s some affairs I have to tend to before I leave. Like shopping for a new dress, no thanks to you.”

  She crouches before me and presses one last kiss to my lips. I don’t reciprocate her affection this time; not that she seems to mind. She got what she came for.

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Catalina withdraws a small wooden box from her handbag and holds it out. “A little parting gift, if you will.”

  Reluctantly, I take the box from her outstretched hand. It was plain, unadorned except for an embossed ‘S’ with a sword stabbing through the middle. The insignia of the Blades Society.

  “Roren is expecting you. Best not to keep him waiting.”