Page 3 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

“Please.” He grits his teeth. “Phase the passed-out human, go do the job I pay you for, and for the love of the Creator, stop wearing shirts that show off your chest and biceps. It’s why we get sued.”

“I like my shirts!” I yell.

“So do they.” He basically points at every single human and demon in the club. Is it my fault I look good in a nice muscle tee? No, but still, he’s the boss and kind of a demon king with a godlike past. So, what he says goes. Last time he got pissed, he burned down his office. I mean, I think it had to do with the sex he was currently having. But still, there was trauma.

I sigh and pick the dude up from the floor. Then, very carefully so as not to be noticed by all the drunk people, I wave a hand over his face. His eyes flash blue before returning to brown. “What just happened?”

“You’re really drunk.” I pat him on the back. “But I grabbed you a car. Name’s Penny, drives a black Ford Focus, and should be here in the next few minutes.” I nod to security. They escort him out, and then I return to the rag I’ve been using to wipe down the bar top.

I swipe and then look to the right, making sure security actually escorted him out.

It’s a busy night full of humans dancing with demons they assume are just really good-looking people and have no ill intent, and the drinks are flowing so hard I’ve already sent home at least a dozen patrons because they couldn’t put one foot in front of the other. Timber blames the Ambrosia we put in the liquor. I blame the stupidity on the humans and their inability to know when enough is enough.

The door to the bar opens as security walks back in. Following them in is a girl, stumbling so hard I’m afraid she’ll chip a tooth on the hard concrete floor.

Her hair’s blue, which is pretty normal for any bar or place downtown. I don’t even really notice it, only that it’s sticking to her face with something red, and her cheeks are swollen. I squint. It almost looks like she’s been beaten. She stumbles toward the bar in her short denim cutoffs, combat boots, andblack tank top, then slams her hand onto the bar next to the rag and whimpers.

There’s a dagger sticking out of the top of her hand, and her right eye is so swollen she can barely make eye contact with me. Before she stumbles closer, blood trickles down her right arm. She’s wearing black fishnet tights with her shorts and the tank is cropped and looks like it’s been torn half off. I don’t know if it’s the look she’s going for or if she’s been truly attacked—even beyond what I can already see.

I hop over the bar and grab her before she passes out, then carry her into the back office, shoving past everyone dancing. I nod at Timber to take over.

He frowns but returns the gesture as I shove into the office and slam the door closed, laying her on the black leather couch to examine her. That’s the good thing about immortals, nothing really fazes us. So if I nod to him, and he nods to me, we both know he’ll have my back if shit goes bad. But until then, I’ll handle it.

Werewolves can heal others since we’re self-healing, but I’m not sure what kind of internal injuries she may have at this point.

“Hey.” I grip her face gently. “What’s your name?”

She shakes her head, and then it lolls to the side until she’s completely passed out.

Well, that’s a no-go.

“I’m just going to pull the knife out of your hand,” I say to myself and wince when blood surges from her wound. I toss the dagger onto the floor and grip her palm between mine. My skin burns where I touch her. The weapon looks familiar, but I can’t figure out why as I continue to hold her hand tightly. The stab wound was deep—very deep.

I feel my eyes flash blue as I heal the wound, knitting the skin back together, but then I can’t let go. I start to pull away. How is her grip so strong when she’s not even conscious?

I tug again.

Her grip only tightens until her eyes flash open. They’re blood-red. She pulls me with inhuman strength right onto her bloody chest.

Her eyes don’t just lock onto mine. They hold me captive in a near chokehold around my body, suffocating me and pulling me closer and closer.

Despite her swollen face, she grips the back of my neck and pulls me in for a soul-sucking kiss.

I freeze, feeling my energy leaving my body. The last thing I remember is thinking,huh, so this is how it ends.

Death by kiss.

And then everything goes painfully black.

Chapter Two

Lilith

He tastes like a dream. The really good kind that you want to keep experiencing over and over again and maybe never wake up from because the pain of reality is too suffocating.

I know I should stop, but I just can’t. I want to taste him, suck him dry…again and again.

He’s asleep. They always are. It’s the effect of the venom I release when I start to suck. It actually pushes into their bodies and makes them go limp so I can do what I need to do.

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