Page 35 of Cosmic Power

Zamorra picked up the bucket in the corner—the bucket she eventually had to use to relieve herself because she didn’t have a fucking choice—and flung the contents at the bars, letting it fly into the hallway.

“You did not just do that,” the demon said in dismay.

“Barney, you silver-haired bastard! Get down here!” Zamorra bellowed, whacking the bucket against the iron bars over and over again.

“You’re wasting your time. All you’re doing is depleting your energy. This little tantrum of yours isn’t going to wor—”

The telltale screech of a large metal door being dragged across the ground reached Zamorra’s ears and she stilled, stopping dead in her tracks.

“Son of a bitch,” the demon blew out as footsteps rang down the long hallway outside Zamorra’s cell.

A bulky werewolf shifter came into view, his nose scrunched up at the sight and smell of Zamorra’s shit and piss all over the floor. He looked at her with utter disgust.

Zamorra didn’t care what he thought of her. If they were going to treat her like an animal, she’d fucking behave like one.

“Hello, there. Welcome to my home,” Zamorra said, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Would you like a tea? Coffee?”

The auburn-haired shifter scowled. “Get on your knees, hands behind your head.” he grunted.

Zamorra scoffed. She widened her stance and crossed her arms over her chest, staring him down. Whatever he wanted to do, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

“Either get on your knees or you can stay in your cell.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What? You’re gonna let me out?”

He held up a set of iron cuffs with his black leather gloved hands. “Only if you behave.”

Could she behave? No, she didn’t think she could. But she wasn’t going to tell him that. She held up her wrists and gave him a pleasant smile. “I promise.”

ChapterNine

Luther woke just as the sun began to set. His senses came to life before his body; first his hearing, then his sense of smell, before finally his eyes popped open.

He groaned, running a hand down his face. After returning back to Sarah and Clive’s residence around midday, he was not only physically exhausted from the effects of the sun, but also mentally exhausted from dealing with Zamorra’s irritating uncle.

There was only so much he could take before he finally snapped and killed him. How someone else hadn’t done so already baffled him.

Luther sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He got to his feet and stretched out his body, twisting it this way and that way, awakening his muscles. He walked to the large window at the far side of the room and pulled back the blackout curtain. The last rays of the sun peeked over the horizon and he stared, admiring the beauty of it.

If there was one thing he missed about his human life, it was the sun. He could function during the day, but it was beyond unpleasant. The moment the sun rose, he would get lethargic and aggravated. He was so uncomfortable he couldn’t enjoy the beauty and heat of the sun like he once did. It used to bring him joy and happiness. Now all it brought him was pain and misery.

With one final wistful look at the sun, he turned and headed for the bathroom. After a quick shower, he stepped out of his room dressed in a tailored black Armani suit. He felt somewhat better after being able to get some rest. His mind was refreshed, his body rejuvenated, and he was ready for a new night.

Although his most recent attempt to find Zamorra had failed, he wasn’t going to let that deter him, cloud his judgement. He had to keep his mind sharp.

Voices drifted up from down below as he walked across the top floor, heading towards the stairs. He recognised them instantly.

Margaret and Void.

Sighing, he shook his head. Even from here, he could hear Margherita’s vulgar sexual innuendos. Her obsession with the werewolf shifter was not only tiring but utterly ridiculous. Luther thought that was part of the appeal for her though. She loved to do things that were unexpected of her, that others would be shocked to see and hear.

From the first moment he met her, he knew she thrived on doing crazy and outlandish things. You wouldn’t think so by looking at her. She looked like she was a heartbeat away from her deathbed, but she had the sexual energy of a man in his prime. It didn’t matter to her that she had wrinkly skin or looked like she could be your great grandmother, she fucked just as much as a couple still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. All. The. Time. And if she wasn’t fucking, she was trying to seduce someone into fucking. Like now.

Luther walked down the stairs and headed towards the kitchen where the voices were coming from. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find when he strolled into the kitchen, but seeing Void standing on the kitchen island using a broom to keep Margaret away from him was definitely not even in the top ten.

Margaret blurred around the island, stopping every so often to slap Void on the ass before blurring away again. She was toying with him, something she liked to do with her prey before she pounced. It was like her own version of some twisted foreplay.

“Shoo! Get back!” Void barked, jabbing the broom. “I mean it, Margaret! Cut it out!”

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