It had been more than a month since she had let her hunger get the better of her and had almost killed him, and although it had been a mistake on her part because she had been convinced he had been stronger than he had turned out to be, she still couldn’t shake the guilt.
That night had left a bitter taste in her mouth.
And it had also cemented her clan’s opinion of her.
Any one of her sisters would have gone ahead and given the man a pleasurable exit from this world in order to fill up her tank to the max.
Suki had panicked and teleported him to the emergency room of a London hospital instead.
Cyrena, the clan mistress, had hauled Suki into her office and had talked about the rules, reiterating them for the thousandth time, and had given her a look that left Suki in no doubt that her next mistake was going to be her last.
If she kept failing at everything a succubus was meant to be good at, if she kept tarnishing the hallowed name of their clan, she was going to be kicked out of it. She had been warned enough times that they wouldn’t tolerate any black marks on their highly respected name, and Suki was a massive dark smudge right across the middle of it. If her mother had been anyone else, she would have been tossed out on her ass by now.
In the last month, she had doubled down on her training, more desperate than ever to prove herself worthy of being a member of the family that had raised her. She had hit fae clubs in Scotland and northern England, and even a few in America, practicing her charms on soft targets.
Tonight, she had come to practice on stronger marks.
But judging by the bored look on Solid Eight’s face, she was failing dismally. If she couldn’t charm a human tonight, how was she meant to charm a strong immortal?
A hot bolt of fire shot down her spine, lighting up her insides and cranking up her temperature, and she frowned as she swiftly scanned the room. Someone was looking at her and it wasn’t the human.
She shivered, the delicious heat that curled through her threatening to rip a moan from her lips as she tried to keep it together. Her eyes darted over everyone, her limited senses stretching out around her in an attempt to pinpoint the one who was looking at her.
Because whoever it was, they had somehow fired her up with just a look, one she wasn’t even reciprocating.
Her eyes locked with intense dark pools set in a stunning sculpted face and the room dropped away, Solid Eight’s words lost on her as she fell into those fathomless depths.
Heat suffused every inch of her, fire flaring in her veins as she swallowed hard, bewitched by the spell this newcomer had cast on her with just a single look.
CHAPTER 3
Tegan rose out of the black pool of his portal, relief beating through him as the scent of nature swamped him. It had been centuries since he had last smelled grass, trees, the air of the mortal world. A thousand sounds assaulted him, a cacophony of noises he couldn’t identify, and he turned in all directions in the park, seeking their sources.
The trees were thick around him, sheltering him from the sight of the mortals in the area, and he was glad this park still existed just as the map his aide had bought him had showed.
He breathed slowly to settle his racing heart and gave himself a moment to adjust to the onslaught of sensation. The humans were at a distance, far away enough that their weak mortal eyes wouldn’t see him. As his pulse evened out and his ears adjusted, dulling the noise, he looked around himself again.
Now came the worst part of his plan.
Tegan closed his eyes and focused, hating himself for what he was about to do. It was shameful, ate away at him a little, but he put up with it. It wasn’t the first time he had done this, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last if he had his way and visited the mortal realm more frequently.
He took a deep breath and focused on his horns. They began to shrink, disappearing into his head. If a demon saw him now, they would be disgusted with him. But it was better he dishonoured himself than reveal the existence of demons to the mortals he could sense in the distance.
Satisfied that his horns were no longer visible and his ears no longer pointed, he scrubbed his right hand over his black hair. The sides of his head felt strange beneath his palm without his horns, alien to him. He shook off the unsettling feeling and inhaled slowly, steadying and preparing himself.
He stepped out through the thick copse of trees into the open area of the park, tipped his head back and frowned at the dark sky, at the stars barely visible through the haze of light that hung above the city.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a sunrise or sunset. It must have been more than a thousand years ago.
He had squandered his freedom back in those days, more interested in waging war and fighting than he had been in seeing the beauty of the mortal world. Over the centuries, he had come to cherish a few of his memories of the mortal world, in particular ones of beaches, sunrises and sunsets. He was a warrior, a warmonger, was restless on his throne because he was trapped in a time of peace, yet oddly he craved the peace he had felt then.
That had been true peace.
He recalled watching the waves rolling against the shore, listening to them breaking, feeling the warm breeze as it kissed his skin, and smelling the salt that laced the air. He had never felt peace like that, and he felt sure he would never know it again.
So as he stood in the middle of a park surrounded by buildings that stood shorter than his black castle, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the sun had already gone down.
He drew down a deep breath and sighed, trying to push away from the disappointment that ran through him and focus on his mission.
His first order of business was procuring more books. There were subjects he had been hungry to read about since a meeting with Thorne, the Third King, but Tegan’s advisers had employed a dirty tactic in an attempt to control him and make him attend meetings with them.
They had refused to allow his aide to go to the mortal world to get more books for him.
It had worked. He had attended a week’s worth of meetings, listening to their drivel about the Second Realm and his position as king. A week, and they still hadn’t allowed his aide to go for books.
So Tegan was taking matters into his own hands.
If the aide couldn’t get his king books, then the king would get them for himself.
He studied his surroundings as he moved through the park, crushing the grass under his heavy boots, heart pounding in eagerness as he approached the edge of the trees that enclosed the wide lawn that created the heart of the pocket of nature.
He frowned as he passed beneath two towering oaks, the loose stones of the path crunching under his weight. A wrought iron gate blocked his path. He grasped the two sides of it and pulled, attempting to open it. They moved, but didn’t give. He lowered his gaze and glared at the thick chain that held the gate closed.
Tegan focused on the other side, on a swath of dark grey that resembled stone, and teleported there.
The street was quiet, the elegant white stone buildings around him illuminated by warm lights. Electricity? He wanted to approach them, to study them, but he didn’t have time. Not this visit anyway.
He opened the dark leather coin purse hanging on his hip and took out a piece of paper. He unfolded and studied it, seeking the address printed at the bottom. According to the map his aide had procured him in the past, the bookstore was located close to his current position. He scanned the streets around him, seeking the one that bore the name at the start of the course he had charted, one that would lead him to his goal.
He had studied the mortal world enough to know that the humans liked to label their streets, giving them names to help identify them. He strode across the grey road to the far side where the buildings hugged it and moved around the square. He found one name on a dark placard supported by two posts, but it did not match the one he was looking for, so he kept on walking, reaching another road that branched off from the squ
are. This one’s placard bore the right name.
He tucked the piece of paper back into his coin purse, closed it, and focused on the far end of the road, where more buildings intersected it. He dropped into the black abyss that opened beneath him and reappeared there, directly in front of another sign. According to the map he had seen and studied, there should be another junction to his right. He turned in that direction and smiled as he spotted it.
Tegan teleported there, looked left and teleported again. In a few more short teleports, he was standing outside the store, looking up at the painted sign that spanned the length of the two windows and the door that stood between them.
The dark slashes of his eyebrows dipped low in a frown as he dropped his gaze to the doors and read the sign.
Closed.
He gripped the brass handles and rattled the wooden doors anyway. A growl curled up his throat as he found there were locked. Damn it.
He had wanted to do this the right way, cursed the feast for taking so long, delaying his arrival in the mortal world. Now he had no choice but to do this in a way that felt wrong to him. He huffed. He would be sure to make reparations for what he was about to do.
Tegan focused on the other side of the doors and teleported into the building. He landed in front of the register and fought to keep his focus as his eyes danced over the thousands of books around him. A veritable library. He wanted to pause and check every book, to see if there were any others he desired, but he couldn’t afford to waste time. If the bookstore was closed, there was a chance the place King Thorne had spoken of might be closed too if he didn’t hurry.
He strode through the aisles between the tables filled with books, dark gaze scanning the signs above the bookshelves for the one that would contain the volumes he sought. He found them deep in the back of the store, two entire bookcases dedicated to subjects close to his heart.
The fingers of his right hand danced over the spines of them, deftly plucking the tomes that interested him and piling them in his left arm. When he had gathered close to a dozen books, he forced himself to make a note of the others and turn away. He moved back through the dark store, working his way to the register. He plucked one of the pale cream sacks that bore the name of the store on the front and piled his hoard into them, before teleporting outside the store.
Not quite the way he had intended the mission to go, but a success nonetheless.
Now he just had to find the place Thorne had spoken of, which presented another problem. It was a long way from his current position, in an area he was unfamiliar with, which meant it was going to be difficult for him to find it. He made his way through the streets, pausing to admire the lamps that lit them, and study the vehicles that lined them. They were a myriad of colours and shapes, all different sizes, every one of them fascinating to him.
Tegan teleported to the end of the road, an attempt to avoid being distracted by the vehicles and everything around him. A terrible mistake. He rose out of the ground close to a female. She turned and shrieked, hit him with her bag, and fled before he could apologise for startling her.
A male on the other side of the street paused to look at him.
Tegan flashed fangs in his direction. Not quite kingly behaviour, and one that might land him in more trouble, but instinct had labelled the male as a potential threat, liable to attempt to apprehend him for what he had done.
The dark-haired male didn’t leave. He remained standing on the other side of the street, staring across him. Tegan drew down a deep breath, catching the male’s scent. An immortal if he had to guess, possibly a vampire since his scent carried a faint undertone of copper. Had the male been tracking the female, stalking her as prey?
Perhaps he could prove useful.
King Thorne’s mortal queen had been most excited by what she had called a ‘club’, speaking of how many fae and immortals visited it, and that it was owned by a shifter. Now Tegan wanted to see what was so exciting about the place.
If the male was a vampire, he could perhaps point Tegan in the right direction so he could find it before the night was through.
Tegan crossed the road to him, or at least attempted it. He lunged backwards as a vehicle roared past him, almost clipping him in the process. It blared a warning he supposed was directed at him for almost colliding with it. He shifted his gaze to the vampire.
The male arched an eyebrow at him and sighed, shaking his head at the same time.
He turned to leave.
Tegan teleported, landing directly in front of the shorter male, who bared his fangs and swiftly leaped back, placing some distance between them.
“I mean you no harm.” Tegan held his hands up, revealing his palms as his bag of books slid down his arm, showing the vampire he was unarmed. “I seek a club called Underworld.”
The vampire’s right eyebrow shot up again. “That place? Switch is nicer.”
Tegan presumed Switch was another club. Was it also frequented by many different species? He added it to his list of things to see in the mortal world, ones that would have to wait for another visit.
Presuming his advisers didn’t physically shackle him to his throne upon his return.
“This one comes highly recommended. King Thorne speaks well of it.” He resisted the urge to growl when the vampire looked him up and down, his lip curling to flash a hint of fang and a lot of disgust.
“A demon. I should have known.” The vampire folded his arms across his chest, causing the sleeves of his black jacket to pull tight across his biceps.
If the male meant it as a show of strength to intimidate him, he was going to have to do better. Tegan could easily take him. He wouldn’t even break a sweat.
“Do you know where to find Underworld or not?” He was wasting time. He didn’t know the particulars of clubs, wasn’t sure whether they closed as early as a bookstore or later.
He frowned.
Judging by how the vampire had suggested a different club, he deduced such establishments were open late. Like a tavern?
When he had last visited the mortal world, taverns had been very popular, and they had remained open late into the dark hours, some of them even serving brew all night.
“You are a long way from it. Not even close. Switch is closer.” The vampire jerked his chin to Tegan’s left. “Just up that road there. I was hunting that female to see if she went there.”
The female Tegan had scared off.
Judging by the calculating edge to the male’s now-crimson gaze, the vampire believed Tegan owed him for that and was about to suggest a way of compensating him for his loss.
“Underworld does not exactly like vampires, but it is a good hunting ground. If you can swear to get me in, I will take you there.”
Tegan wasn’t sure whether he could get the vampire into the club or how the male meant to get him there considering he couldn’t teleport and had admitted the club was a long way away, but he was swift to nod and accept the male’s terms.
The vampire nodded too and stepped around him, giving him a wide berth. Tegan turned on his heel and followed him, not taking his eyes off the male and keeping all his senses trained on him, just in case he tried something. He settled his hand over his coin purse.
Ryker had spoken frequently of charlatans and thieves in the mortal world, people who would rob and murder you given the chance. His brother had made them sound as if they would take advantage of even the smallest slip in focus or awareness. Of course, normally those people were targeting humans.
Did immortals target other immortals in such ways?
The vampire glanced over his shoulder at him. “You can stop looking at me as if you want to murder me now. It is getting old fast.”
Perhaps this male was not interested in robbing or murdering him for his coin.
Tegan relaxed, but only a little, and his entire body cranked tight again when they reached a busy road and the vampire stopped between two parked vehicles and raised his arm as he leaned out into the road.
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br /> He lunged for the male, caught his other arm and pulled him back. “What are you doing? You will get yourself killed.”
The vampire’s eyebrow arched again as he slowly swivelled his head towards him, his arm still raised. “I am hailing a cab.”
The disbelief in his tone and the look that entered his now-ice-blue eyes questioned Tegan in ways he didn’t like because they left him feeling lacking, as if he didn’t measure up in this male’s opinion and was an idiot.
He kept his mouth shut, refusing to ask what the hell a cab was and cementing the male’s low opinion of him.
A black vehicle stopped in front of the vampire, a bright orange sign above the plate of glass near the front of it. The mechanical beast hummed, a low rumbling purr that gently settled as the human male in the front leaned towards the vampire.
The vampire said something Tegan didn’t hear and then he was pulling on Tegan’s arm, luring him towards the rear of the vehicle. He opened the door and Tegan swallowed hard. The male expected him to enter the belly of the beast?
This was far more interaction with the technology of the human world than he had anticipated. He swallowed his nerves, refusing to let them show, and clutched his bag of books to his chest as he slid his seven-foot frame into the cramped space.
The vampire eased in beside him and spoke with the driver, and Tegan did his best not to tense as the conveyance began to move. A cab. This was a cab. The vampire had raised his arm and it had stopped for him, and now it was taking them somewhere.
Fascinating.
Streets whizzed past him, flashes of light that he found difficult to take in as wave upon wave of them collided and crashed over him. Every one was different, every store front unique. His eyes darted around, managing to pluck small details from the blur. A shop filled with jewels here. A bustling food store there. He wanted to stop at every single one, but held his tongue, telling himself that he would return and explore this modern version of the city he had once known.
Seduced by a Demon King Page 3