Page 31 of Heir

It was pale—too pale, perhaps? And his eyes glowed a startling yellow. Not like he had cirrhosis of the liver, but the irises themselves were a cat-like yellow, and they shone bright and eerie. He ran his nose up along the side of my neck, inhaling deeply. What was this man?

“Demons,” he said with so much contempt I actually got a little offended, even though I still didn’t believe that I was one. “You think you’re the top of the food chain? You think you’re better than everyone? You’re hunting us. Killing us for sport. Well, how about we turn the tables, hmm?”

“I . . . I don’t,” I said, hating that I had a quaver to my voice. “I’m not hunting anybody. I don’t know what you mean. I don’t think I’m better than anybody.”

“You all do. You’re so confident . . . so cocky. You’re out here all alone. Not a guard, not a mate, nothing.” He sniffed me again. “You’re not even mated.” A feral purr rattled in his throat. “Even better.”

Pulling his head back just enough so I could see his face a little better, he smiled like the devil himself, and two long fangs descended down past his top lip, nearly touching his bottom lip.

“Just a taste, hmmm?”

Oh, fuck no. Not like this.

I’d already been through hell over the last twenty-four hours. I was not going to have some psycho who cosplayed as a vampire, plunge his teeth into me in some dark doorway.

Mustering all the strength I could, I leaned my head back into the wall and smashed it forward against his, head-butting him hard in the nose.

My ears rung, but not so loud that I couldn’t hear his scream.

He released my wrists. “You bitch!” Then he screamed again and fell to the floor, clutching at the sides of his head as blood poured from his nose, just like it had with Gemma, the bear, and the vampire at my house.

I stared at him, frozen in place. Still plastered against the wall, watching as his brain hemorrhaged in front of me and he shrieked and pleaded for his life. But nobody besides me could hear him over the heavy, unrelenting beat of the music.

And then he stopped.

He stopped moving, he stopped screaming, he stopped . . . living.

My hand flew up to cover my mouth before I could start screaming.

Oh god. What did I just do?

I just killed someone. And there were witnesses everywhere. They’d seen him and I go into the dark doorway. They’d find the body and know that I was the one who killed him.

I spun around, determined to pry my feet from the concrete and run. But when I did, I ran smack dab into the brick wall that was the bear’s chest, still covered with that ridiculous, red crop top. His hands fell to my shoulders.

I’d never been so glad to not be alone in my life.

He took one look at the man on the ground and nodded, then stepped forward. That’s when I saw the vampire and the fire mage behind him.

Gemma wasn’t with them though.

The four of us stood there over the body.

“W-what was he?” I stammered.

“Phaceanesh,” the vampire sneered. “Nightwalker.”

“Best way to deal with the body is to burn it,” the mage said, completely unfazed.

The bear nodded.

“What is a Phaceanesh?” I asked. “And what do you mean ‘burn it’?”

The mage looked at me like I didn’t know what fire was. “I mean, I have to cremate him right now, so nobody finds him. Even though you’re the Queen, a murder has been committed and if we don’t get rid of the body, there’d be a hearing and . . . trust me, you don’t want that drama. Give me thirty seconds and he’ll be your favorite Kansas song.”

Zandren scrunched his nose in confusion.

The mage rolled his eyes. “Dust in the wind.”

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