Page 182 of Dark Fate

Sable rolls her eyes, andRhylandhums in agreement behind me.

I blink, struggling to process this new information. "So, you're telling me you can waltz up to any witch, do your 'these are not the droids you're looking for' shtick, and they'll just... obey?"

Luciangrins, his eyes glinting with mischief and unbridled glee. "Well, not exactly. It takes a bit more finesse than that. I had to dig and figure out which witch was the weak link in their little coven. Turns out, Little Miss Sabrina over there has a bit of a crush on yours truly. Can't say I blame her, really. I mean, look at me."

I roll my eyes so hard I'm sure I strain a muscle. "Yes,Lucian, you're a regular Adonis. Can we focus, please? So you compelled this witch... then what? What did you learn?"

"Everything about this coven and their weaknesses. I also compelled Sabrina to convince the coven not to allow Azrael at the ritual, as it would 'interfere with the magic.'”Lucianexplains, casually strolling over to my fridge and helping himself to my leftover Chinese food.

He takes a bite of my General Tso's chicken, talking with his mouth full. "And she’s certain the coven will accept me as their offering after I filled them with the notion that I am the ancient of all vampires... Mwahaha!" He laughs like a discount Dracula, complete with a cheesy accent and dramatic cape flourish.

Emily bursts into laughter, nearly spilling her coffee. "You’re a fucking riot," she gasps between fits of glee, shaking her head.

"At least she thinks I'm funny."Luciancontinues to eat my chicken.

I stare at him, torn between being impressed and wanting to smack the smugness off his face. "Okay, first of all, that's my food, you ass. Secondly, how did you convince them you’re some ancient vampire? You’re not exactly radiating wisdom and gravitas here."

Luciangrins, chicken stuck in his teeth. "Oh, ye of little faith. It’s called acting. I just channeled my inner Bela Lugosi, threw in some 'thees' and 'thous,' and bam! Instant elder vampire cred. Thesewitchesmay be powerful, but they’re not the sharpest stakes in the coffin."

I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. "Okay, ignoring the fact that you just butchered that metaphor worse than a blind lumberjack, are you seriously telling me that your entire plan hinges on you playing dress-up and hoping the covens are too dumb to notice?"

He shrugs, licking his fingers. "Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Princess. Sometimes, the simplest plans are the best. Besides, it’s not like we have a lot of options. It's either this, or we sit around while Azrael turns the world into his personal blood buffet."

I hate to admit it, but he's got a point. We’re not exactly swimming in alternatives here. IfLucian’s managed to infiltrate the coven, we might stand a chance of stopping Azrael before it’s too late.

"Fine," I sigh, resigned to our fate resting in the hands of a vampire with the maturity level of a horny teenager. "But if this blows up in our faces, I’m kicking your ass. And you owe me new Chinese food."

Luciangrins. "Wouldn't have it any other way, sweet cheeks. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ritual to crash and an evil vampire overlord to dethrone. Wish me luck!"

Danica

85

After days of strategizing and dealing with all this witchy nonsense, Emily, bless her well-meaning soul, thought it was the perfect moment for a girls' night. But when I say girls' night, I really mean a night out with my crew of fanged hotties. Emily, in her nostalgia, chose the Playful Pint—probably for old times' sake—even though the place hasn't quite had the same vibe since John's brutal murder.

It's still hard to believe he's gone. John was more than just my boss; he was a true friend. I miss his fatherly advice and how he always looked out for me. At least his son stepped up to keep the Pint going in his memory, even if it meant putting some new "strict conditions" for vampires in place.

But no matter, Emily assured me Mark was working tonight and would happily invite my sharp-toothed posse inside. Crisis averted.

I was hopping out of the shower, ready to slip into something more "I’m the savior of the Seven Realms, bow before me" and less "I heart fuzzy bunny slippers" whenRhylandbarges into my room with that signature panty-dropping smirk plastered across his face.

"Got a present for you, baby," he purrs, his voice a low, seductive rumble.

Oh, I do love surprises. ButRhyland's predatory look tells me this won't be a bouquet of roses or a teddy bear kind of gift.

"Oh? What is it?" I ask, trying to play it cool even as my heart does a giddy little mambo in my chest.

In a flash, he's on me, strong hands gripping my wrists, the smooth glide of black rope against my skin as he binds me. A gasp escapes my lips as he bends me over the bed, my ass in the air, my hands secure and tied to the headboard.

"Rhyland, what the actual fuck?" I snap, my voice a mix of irritation and disbelief as I tug at the ropes binding my wrists. "Is this your idea of a joke? Because I'm not laughing, you oversized Viking brute!"

Rhylandjust chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through his chest. "Oh, this ain't no joke,sweetheart," he drawls, his voice a sinful caress that sends shivers down my spine despite my annoyance. "This is payback, plain and simple."

I glare at him over my shoulder, trying to ignore the way my body responds to the dominance in his tone. "Payback? For what, exactly?" I play dumb.

He leans down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "For being a goddamn cocktease,kära," he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. "Walking around in those tiny fucking shorts, grinding on me like a bitch in heat, then leaving me high and dry for the last three days. Ring any bells?"

I can't help the smirk that tugs at my lips. "Oh, that? That was just a bit of fun."

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