Page 6 of The Monster's Desire

I wish I did.

Blood magic—especially the kind that presents with shadows, like mine does—is rare. In the supernatural world, it’s dangerous to be an oddity.

I take another deep breath and close my eyes as I focus my intent. I’m only trying to encourage Ember to wiggle out of Nan’s hold, and then she can head for the back door of The Den.

A sizzle goes through my entire body. My eyes pop open, and I determine my coaxing worked.

Ember races toward the back door.

I exhale heavily, shaking the extra energy out of my hands. A slow smile crosses my face. I’mfairlysure I served my purpose here tonight.

Nan might be seventy-plus years old, but she’s got keen eyesight, or she’s already seen this play out. She winks before focusing back on the confrontation at hand.

I move to duck back around the brick wall, but end up squeaking when a cool hand wraps around my mouth from behind.

“Nadia,” the slimy voice says.

“Kash,” I hiss, yanking his hand off my mouth. “What the hell do you want? Do you know what—” I cut off when I realize I’m not supposed to interfere with whatever happens tonight with Emerson.

Kashius is a warlock with the paranormal council. He’s been a client of mine for a while, or he was before our last visit, when I not-so-politely told him to fuck off because I wouldn’t be seeing him again.

There are some things I don’t dabble in, and he was definitely buttering me up to see if I’d be interested in immortality or anti-aging magic. They’re both too dark for me to be interested.

“I knew you weren’t a fertility witch.” He chuckles haughtily. “Come along. You and I need to have a chat.”

* * *

I’m not sure why I let Kash drag me down the alley, past several abandoned buildings, and into the heart of the warehouse district. Not that The Monster’s Den is far from this area of town, but the farther I get from my workplace, the more anxious I become.

Having the paranormal council discover that I’m a blood witch is not high on my to-do list.

Fucked. I am so incredibly fucked. And not in the good way.

Why the hell don’t I have a protector who will murder for me? It would come in handy at the moment.

Aline has Atlas always ready and willing to look after her and guard her secrets. Emerson has Dread and the other owners of The Monster’s Den.

Where is my hot, psycho, will-do-anything-to-protect-me fuck buddy? Hell, mates kind of creep me out because of how both parties tend to lose their autonomy, but even that doesn’t sound so bad right now.

“I’m surprised you didn’t put up a fight. That must mean you understand that you’ll never be able to overpower me.” Kash’s straight white teeth flash in a predatory grin.

Yeah, he’s hot for a warlock, but the man obviously doesn’t have a lot of workable brain cells. Blood witches are more powerful than nearly any other magic user. The fact that I haven’t gone dark with my gifts is the only thing saving him right now. I’ve worked hard over the years to keep my magic pure. I’m not about to taint my soul for this asshole.

I settle for punching him in the face.

“Naughty little witch, you really shouldn’t have done that,” Kash snarls, wrapping his arms around me. He twists my wrist behind my back at an awkward angle. I definitely should have gone for magic. I struggle against his hold, but he’s six-foot-something, and he’s stronger than he looks.

He opens a heavy wooden door that squeaks and scratches as it moves before shoving me in first.

I stagger forward, desperately trying to twist out of his hold, but everything goes black.

* * *

My hair falls around my face as I wake with a hell of a headache.

Kash is going to regret ever approaching me when I’m done with him. If I was a viler type of witch, I’d suck out every drop of his blood through his pores and each orifice, like his eyes and nose.

However, I’m not sure I want that type of ugliness on my eternal soul.

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