Page 42 of Demon Found

I snarl, and he whips his hand away as if I might snap it off. In this state, I might. At least it was him, not anyone else. I helped a Cuelebre.My father would turn in his damn grave, or the pits of hell. Wherever that asshole is now.

Nostrils flaring, I take a few deep breaths. It was the right thing to do. Farrell’s family might do all sorts of fucked-up political shit, but grudgingly I’ll give it to the stuck-up prick—he has a sense of decency his father lacks.

“Tell anyone and I’ll make you into a fur coat.”

“Cross my heart and hope to live. C’mon, boss, bonfire time.”

He steers me into the bar, yipping in excitement.

The clearing behind the Waling Moon is a heaving mass of bodies in all states of undress. Shifters don’t give a shit about clothes, and neither do most demons. Not on Mabon.

Barging forward, I clear our path toward the bonfire, horns swinging toward anyone who dares to get in our way, my inner circle at my back. The bonfire is already reaching for the sky, burning so bright it hurts to look directly into the flames. Fireworks scream through the trees, exploding in shrieks and bathing the crowd in ash. This I can get on board with. It feels like home. The energy in the air, the sheer power of Mabon, is palpable.

“Fuck off and enjoy the night, mi familia.” I fix each individual with a look. “La familia es la vida, muerte a los traidores.” Family is life, death to traitors.

The response comes as one.“Familia o muerte.”Family or death.

They melt into the background.

I swear havoc smells like this—fire and gunpowder and a shitload of sweaty gang members in proximity to their sworn enemies. Maybe I should have kept them under tighter control for longer, but hellfire . . . it’s a night for fun. And I’ll be damned if I’m having them trailing after me all night. I did what I set out to do. Made an example of someone. Strengthened my claim as their leader. Deago better stay cowed, for tonight at least.

Raff drifts toward me, a petite girl on each arm, another trailing behind. They let out hopeful giggles, eyeing me and Alarick from under long eyelashes. He needs to stop this crap. Him and Alarick both. I’m not sharing a girl with those furballs, no matter they’re my gang, nor how interested the girls are. Shaking my head, I turn to the flames again.

“Have fun idiotas.Enjoy your night, ladies.”

The smallest girl pouts before Alarick sweeps her off her feet, tugging the others along behind him, heading for the trees. Shifters and their damn orgies. I should be honored they want to include me . . . like I’m pack, but hellfire, I wish they’d just knock it off already.

It’s not my scene, but the boys deserve to cut loose. Plus, without Alarick’s beady eyes on me, I can get back to my new favorite hobby. Stalking the harpy.

Just as my gaze settles on her white hair and stunning figure-hugging dress, Val pounces. She drags Lorelei toward the stage, the pair dancing in the sweaty mass of bodies like they don’t care who’s watching. Bumping and grinding with fireworks going off overhead, her white hair flying everywhere, Lorelei looks like an angel. I could watch her all night.

Stalking around the bonfire, eyes on Lorelei, I nearly trip over Zephyr and the girl wrapped around him.

“Such pretty horns. Are you horny, horn-monster?” He leans toward me, fingers outstretched.

Snarling, I jump back. What the hell? Was Zephyr just trying topetmy horns? He has a death wish. One look at his face and I understand. His eyes are black—there’s so much damn pupil I can’t even make out his iris. And of the two of us,he’sthe angel? Fucking addict.

I step around him and move away, keeping Lorelei in my line of sight. Hewie skitters past, headed for Zephyr, and I pin him with a glare. He grinds to a halt, flapping his hands in distress before continuing his dash after the druggie.

At least the spineless wailer is keeping his word. I pause at the pop-up bar, pretending to be engrossed in the drinks menu, and strain to catch their conversation.

“Zephyr, do something. You’re her allegiance. She’s going to get hurt.”

“Naeve? Naevey needs to relax. Let the chick have fun. Nothing wrong with a little druggy drug to drop the inhibitions.”

Hewie lets out a strangled sigh. “Maybe if she chose to take it, Zephyr. She doesn’t even know . . . you’ve got to do something!”

Zephyr straightens up, grabbing Hewie by the collar. “Look here, screamer. I don’t have to do anything anyone tells me, least of all you. Naeve needs a bit of what I’ve got . . .” He trails a hand languidly over the arm of the half-naked girl pressed against him, and she giggles. “C’mon, darling, lets you and me take a little powpow and get our freak on.”

My tail rips out my pants, whipping from side to side like an angry cobra. Clenching my fists, I take a few deep breaths. I’m going to put some asshole in the ground tonight if I’m not careful. Barreling my way through the crowd toward where I last saw Naeve, I try to focus on the little bubble of calm like my therapist told me. I concentrate on my water element, picturing a relaxing waterfall trickling into a pond.

She’s only a few years older than my damn sister and far less capable of looking after herself.

I catch a glimpse of Naeve through the crowd and stalk closer. She’s pressed up hard against the vamp. Hunter’s hand snakes into her top as her head lolls and my control explodes. A tidal wave of water erupts from me, crashing into the stage, soaking the supes dancing and washing away the band. Fuck. That wasnotintentional, but . . . it’s a good distraction. I yank Naeve out of the vampire’s grip.

“Get your own whore, Maverik scum,” he hisses.

Shifting Naeve into one arm, I reach out and press my index finger to his forehead, lighting it up with the brightest flame I can. With each tap to his head, I enunciate my words.

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