Page 78 of The Monster's Desire

“Intriguing.” Constantine laughs. “And that somehow led to a claiming bite?”

“Nadia is my mate.” Ridge wraps his arm around my lower back, pulling me into him with the hand on my hip. “I have every incentive to ensure she succeeds. Having a fully functional ward can only benefit North Falls.”

His words are completely logical, but I don’t think Constantine is the kind of demon swayed by rational thought.

“That’s true enough.” Constantine claps Ridge on the shoulder. “Enjoy the party. We’ve got quite the live show coming up shortly. I’m sure you’re going to love it.”

My gaze follows the demon as he swaggers away with a jaunty skip in his step. I find it highly suspicious.

“Yeah, that’s fucking disturbing,” Echo mutters in barely more than a whisper.

“Agreed,” Ridge growls.

I swallow thickly. Those two rarely agree on anything, which makes it even more ominous.

* * *

The evening event drags into nighttime. I repeatedly ask if it’s possible we can graciously leave early, but Echo makes it clear we can’t leave until we’re dismissed. Hopefully, the council understands I’m a mortal witch, who requires sleep on a daily basis. Considering they’re all demons and vampires, I’m going to guess they don’t often think about the fact most beings sleep to rest and reset.

“It looks like everyone has mostly started to leave,” I say around a yawn. Maybe my magic severely overreacted when we were coming in?

“The three of you will join us in the parlor,” Warren says, his words lined heavily in his compulsion.

Ridge growls.

My magic pulses, but it leads toward the room Warren is gesturing to. That’s not helpful. Echo strides forward at my side. Ridge’s warmth eventually envelops my back, but I’m fairly sure he’s only following because of me.

That’s a major problem.

My brain registers the sight as I stumble forward, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing. There’s a giant platform with a mattress. It’s definitely a bed. There are no pillows, but there is a blanket, and the four-poster style canopy has no curtains.

Before I can blink, two men I don’t recognize are yanking Echo to an empty area to the left of the raised area. Imogen appears in front of me, ripping me away from Ridge. I put every ounce of strength I have into not panicking.

I’m a sex worker. If they want a show, well then, they can take notes, especially the bitch with her claws digging into my forearms. I can fuck both Echo and Ridge in front of an audience to stake my claim, and it won’t make me uncomfortable one single bit. Or that’s what I tell myself, because I’ll be damned if I let these assholes continue to bully and intimidate me.

My heart drops when Garth appears behind Imogen, quirking an eyebrow.

“Tonight’s entertainment is a real treat,” Constantine says, sounding every bit the unhinged lunatic I know he is. “It’s a dual double feature.”

I spin around at the commotion to find Ridge struggling against several large men. They’re likely shifters of some form.

“Continue being problematic, and I’ll simply have Imogen break the witch’s neck.” Constantine smirks, gesturing toward me. “It’s your call.”

Echo and Ridge stop fighting back. A shiver runs down my spine as my stomach drops.

“Now, the rules are simple. Garth gets to have his way with Nadia for all of our viewing pleasure while the wolf and the vampire fight to see who will come out victorious.” Constantine claps. “She only needs one bodyguard. Two is redundant, and we all know that’s not my style.”

My jaw falls as my gaze flicks from Ridge to Echo. The bond between me and Ridge pulls tight as the tether does the same with Echo. This town really is fucked up on a level that’s difficult to comprehend.

Garth has the good sense to grimace when I glance back at him. Incubi gain no energy from sexual experiences that aren’t consensual, and if what my friend Arsyn told me is true, then it’s actually physically painful for an incubus to attempt.

Okay, game plan—call my demons and have them help us get the hell out of here. My eyes slide shut as I focus all my energy into calling Knight and Wraith.

“Are you going to cry, little witch?” Imogen asks in a condescending-as-hell tone. She slurs her words, and I really think she might be drunk.

My eyes pop open.

I’m going to murder her before all this is done. Then I’m going to set fire to her headless corpse and laugh like the psychopath I apparently am.

---