Page 118 of Cosmic Power

Zamorra spun on the balls of her feet, walking backwards. “I dunno, Luther, I wouldn’t want you to feelforcedinto chatting.”

Luther narrowed his eyes.

She saluted him with the middle finger and turned around, disappearing around the corner, fully aware the hulking vampire followed only a few paces behind.

* * *

Zamorra glancedaround the huge ballroom, her nerves a frazzled mess. Hundreds and hundreds of supernaturals filled the large space, with more trickling in every few minutes. Power hummed in the air, caressed her skin in seductive temptation.

It crackled around her, so much aggressive and powerful energy it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It made her heart thump so hard she thought it might burst out of her chest. The only other time she’d been in a room with so many other powerful beings was at the monthly Regent Meeting in Australia. This was so much more intense.

There was a clear divide amongst the races. It was almost like there was an invisible line drawn on the floor, separating all four groups.

The demons sat in the far right corner of the room, some sitting down peacefully talking amongst themselves while others butted heads.

Literally.

Like bulls, their horns were locked in a tight grapple as they tried to ram and bulldoze the other one over. Their spiked tails flicked through the air like snakes, coiling to attack. Their skin tones were all different shades of red; some on the lighter, greyish side, while others were as red as the blood that flowed through their veins.

Mages sat on their left—both light and dark—their magic bursting in an impressive display of red and white lightning around them. It popped and sparked, fizzled and cracked as several of them tried to outdo the others with their spells and tricks.

One flexed his fingers, releasing a mist of red magic that smothered a light mage, turning him into his own personal puppet on a stick. The dark mage made him pick his nose, give himself a wedgie and punch himself in the nuts before finally letting go.

In retaliation, the light mage shot a stream of his magic right at the dark mage’s face, making his body stiffen, eyes flashing white. Then he dropped to all fours, panting and barking like a dog.

Mind control,her werewolf rumbled.Cool.

Zamorra snickered. She found the different styles interesting. The dark mage took full control of the light mage’s body but left the mind alone, letting him curse and snap as his body did things he didn’t want to do.

The light mage, on the other hand, turned the dark mage into nothing more than a mindless drone, a zombie.

Zamorra wasn’t sure which was worse.

Two rows of empty seats separated the mages from the vampires sitting in front of them, that divide between the races glaringly obvious.

Pale skin, red eyes and alluring facial features described the bulk of the vampires from that corner of the room.

Vampires possessed a natural sexual energy that just made your skin buzz, but even all that appeal wouldn’t help if you were butt-fucking-ugly in your human life.

Tense, hateful energy vibrated from them. It was directed at the shifters on their right.

Sometimes Zamorra forgot the animosity burning between the two species. The feud went back for centuries, and she didn’t think anyone even knew what actually started it all.

But if Zamorra had to guess, she’d say it had something to do with Zvetari and Vargas. The hostility brimming between those two was obvious to anyone who spent longer than a second in their presence.

The shifters glared back, eyes flashing gold on and off, like a TV on the fritz.

Some of those death glares were aimed her way and she had to suppress a wince.

She stood against the wall on the vampire’s side, wedged between Axel and her uncle and surrounded by Zvetari’s warriors. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the shifters where pissed she stood with their natural enemies.

Zamorra didn’t care. She was never one to bend to societal expectations.

She inhaled deeply, sifting through all the different scents swirling around her. She focused on the shifters, trying to identify the creatures lying beneath their skin. She needed to know exactly what she was up against should any of them decide to attack.

Bear, lion, jaguar. Oh! A pegasus…fancy. Basilisk, eagle, fox, harpy—

A powerful, dark scent tickled her nose. Her werewolf perked up, on high alert.

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