Page 248 of Rage

"You really have to watch more movies, Daemon. I think you'd understand the twins better."

He shrugged a meaty shoulder. "I've stopped trying to figure them out. I kind of like the mystery anyway. That's half of Alistair's charm, too."

A deafening round of applause punctuated the end of that moment, and several of the troupe members made their exit.The opening act was done, and now it was time for the bigger names to grace the ring.

"Presenting the seductive creature who's wrapped your tiny cocks around her wings, it’s the half-blood Hell Bat!”

"That's your cue, Pup," Daemon muttered, a hint of a whine in his words. Like he was sad that he had to let me go. He kissed me again, and this time, his lips tasted of Raff.

Chapter Three

The crowd was an easy one tonight. This was an area Sinner’s Sideshow had never been to before—filled mostly with werewolves. They were easy to impress, and their manners were more agreeable than a lot of audiences we’d had in the past.

Our audience was always monsters, sometimes hungry, mean ones who looked at me and saw a meal.

It was a good night if no one was jumping into the ring to act out whatever disturbing, impulsive thoughts played through their head as they watched me with my men.

So far, no one had been slaughtered by my possessive mates, no appendages chopped off, no innards ripped out by Daemon or his hellhound pack. Not yet, anyway, but the night was still young.

I stood on the round platform that gave every seat in the house a perfect view of me, twirling my sword to the rhythm of my signature song, “Boss Bitch” by Doja Cat, before sliding my sword down my throat and swallowing all twenty-five inches of pure steel.

They all clapped and whistled, but the lust rolling off them was lackluster. Barely a meal. I’d fed from the twins’ lust pre-show, but it hadn’t been enough.

As a circus brat, I grew up in show biz, so being in the ring was as natural as breathing. As a succubus, I loved being the center of attention in a place like this because it kept me sated. It was my feeding ground.

I pulled my sword from my throat and, making a show of it, took the blade’s point and sliced my top off. I gave the audience a shake, my nipple piercings glinting under the lights.

The crowd went wild. Lust bled into the air. I breathed it in like a drug, spread my wings and gave another slow turn on the platform, drinking in their adoration, their envy, their hunger for me.

I didn’t even have to use my succubus charm powers. All it took was a flash of my tits, and I had them eating out my hand—while they jacked off into theirs.

What happened next unfolded all in a breath.

A man in one of the first few rows, the death seats as we referred to them, lunged out of his seat and over the divider that separated the house from the ring.

In midair, he shifted into a great brown wolf with beady red eyes honed on me.

“Mine!” His growl exploded through the big top like dynamite, making everyone jump in their seats.

Before the werewolf could pounce on top of me, a black hound twice the wolf’s size appeared seemingly from nowhere. His maw closed around the wolf’s throat and snatched him out of the air. Both beasts hit the ground hard, making the lighting overhead sway and shadows shift.

Daemon had transformed back into a man, naked and glistening under the lights. He pressed his foot on the wolf’s throat, looking down at him like he was less than dirt.

“I’d ask if you have a death wish, but seeing as you came from a death seat, I know the answer.”

The death seats were named because that’s exactly what they were. A monster bought a ticket for a death seat only if they had no intention of walking out of our grisly show alive.

We were the demon circus straight from Hell, and for a price, we’d send you there in style.

“Yeah, I bought a death seat,” the wolf wheezed beneath the pressure of Daemon’s foot. “So fucking kill me already. I’m ready to meet Discord.”

“That’s not how this works. We decide how you die, not you.”

Alistair melted from the shadows, his umbral form taking shape into flesh. His stature was somewhere between Daemon’s and the twins, tall with an athletic form that filled out his maroon ringmaster’s uniform to perfection.

The music had faded, and the click of his cane as he walked echoed through the tent, his long, shadowy hair billowing behind him.

He approached where Daemon stood with the wolf pinned beneath his foot, cocking his head. “You’ve lost your privileges to look at my star.”

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