Page 24 of The Succubus's Song

“You’re a good player, McEwan.” His coach’s voice was just loud enough to be heard from across the locker room. “We’ve all had setbacks. Don’t let it define you. I look forward to bringing you back on the pitch soon.”

Finley flashed his coach a thumbs-up without looking back, aggressively brushing away his tears with his other hand.

That’s what they all say. His mind was quick to negate his coach. Don’t believe him.

Finley shuffled through the halls of the Oriam as quickly as he could, fumbling for his cellphone in his gym bag. He stepped outside and finally managed to tap out a quick text, keeping his head down and praying none of his teammates saw him leaving.

He crossed the parking lot, slid into the front seat of his car, burying his head in his hands, and waited. Finley lost track of time as he sat there, despair flooding the air around him until it was nearly palpable. He was always tired after a panic attack, but now combined with his recent sleepless nights, Finley was almost dozing by the time a big hand tapped on the glass.

“Hey, mate.” Emmett’s voice was muffled by the car window. “Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Finley nodded, unable to do much else, and climbed out of his car. He locked it and plopped down in Emmett’s passenger seat, keeping his gaze on the floor. Emmett said nothing, but his large, calm presence managed to settle some of Finley’s worst nerves.

“I’ll come back for your car later,” Emmett informed him casually, as if he was talking about the weather. Finley only nodded dejectedly and looked up when Emmett tossed something on his lap.

“Emmett,” Finley scoffed. “Seriously?”

Emmett looked deadly serious as he pulled into traffic, keeping his eyes on the road. “I never joke about biscuits, son. Now,” he flashed a stern look at Finley when he stopped at a light, “eat the Walkers. You’ll feel better.”

It got a weak smile out of Finley. He nodded, quietly forcing himself to munch on the shortbread as he got lost looking out the window as Emmett took him home.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The last time Mara was this hopeless, she had just watched her family murder her lover. After fleeing Finley’s apartment, she didn’t dare return home or to the university either. She spent the entire weekend patrolling the streets of Edinburgh, making sure to leave her scent in obvious places. If Alice—or any other member of her family—was hellbent on hunting in this city, Mara was going to make it difficult for them.

She forced herself to feed, but it hadn’t been enough. Her appetite was still racing through her veins like fire. The donated blood or animal blood Mara typically survived off was never as good, but it took away the worst of her hunger pains.

Not anymore.

You know why. Mara walked down the street and tightened the belt of her trench coat, as if she suffered from a meager human appetite and not an all-consuming hunger. She was trying to ignore the fact that her alternative options to feed stopped working the night she tasted Finley’s blood.

It was because of Finley, and you know it. Mara’s mind would not drop the idea. In her heart, Mara knew it was true. She didn’t want to believe it. After months of carefully dancing around one another, with a bad rejection thrown in, Mara was an addict struggling to stay sober after one perfect hit.

The streets were quiet this time of night. It was a weeknight, so the happy hour crowd had come and gone earlier in the evening. Mara’s only company were a few stragglers, hopping off the bus from an undoubtedly late night at the office, and some of Edinburgh’s nocturnal residents. A few owls and foxes had crossed her path, but they undoubtedly scurried away the moment they smelled her coming.

Mara was moving on autopilot, trying to force herself to stay in the moment and not let her thoughts drift. She needed to stay focused. There could be no slip-ups when it came to dealing with her family. Yet, as Mara rounded the next corner, she froze on the spot—and realized she was staring up at Finley’s balcony.

At that exact moment, the wind shifted, and Mara got a whiff of Finley’s scent. The magic and fire in her body danced within her in recognition. Mara’s hands tightened into fists as she struggled with a biological need to go to him.

He must have a window open, Mara pondered, biting down on her lip. If I can smell him, he’s got a window open. He shouldn’t have a window open if there are potentially baobhan sith in the city…

Mara started arguing with herself.

No! You can’t. This is a flimsy excuse to…

Stop! This is serious, what if Alice were to walk by and smell…

The thought of Alice getting close to Finley immediately sent Mara into a possessive rage. Her glamour rippled over her skin, and she surrendered it, her supernatural features quickly taking its place. Mara dissipated into an opaque red cloud, disappearing in the wind like smoke. It took only a second for her to twist up the ivy covering the side of Finley’s building, slide under the railing on the balcony, and solidify into her physical form.

Finley wasn’t in the living room, but all the lights in the apartment were on. Mara used one of her talons to pick the lock and quietly slid the door open, stepping into his apartment slowly.

“Finley?” Mara called out. She knew this technically already counted as trespassing, but she didn’t want to startle him any more by walking straight in, unannounced. There was no answer.

“Finley, are you in here?” Mara raised her voice and took another tentative step. Finley still didn’t respond, and she waited, listening for any sound in the apartment, when she realized she could hear the shower running.

Mara walked down the hallway and knocked on the bathroom door. She hesitated for a moment and tried to figure out what was worse—if he walked out of the shower and found her in the living room or if she let him know she was there. She decided on the latter and knocked again.

“Hey, Finn–”

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