One
Asher
Fucking hell. What have you done to me, Cupcake?
I could still taste her on my lips. Still feel the silk of her hair between my fingers. Still smell the raw, earthy scent of her desire as she lost control at my touch.
My cock stiffened at theveryrecent memory; my heart was still hammering from the state she’d left me in.
But when I stared down at the ground outside my cell where she should’ve been lying, there was only cold, damp rock.
She’d attacked Jonathan. Sucked out his rotten soul. I kept waiting to see the iridescent bubble of her magical shield, but it never materialized.
In the blink of an eye, they’d both just… vanished.
If it wasn’t for his blood staining the ground, I might’ve thought I’d imagined the whole damn thing.
Had Gray known it’d go down like that? I knew she felt responsible for Jonathan, that she had to deal with him on her own terms. But where the fuck had she taken him? What was her end game?
“A little warning would’ve been nice, Cupcake.”
Shaking off the last of my shock, I pushed myself out of the chair and got to my feet. The room tipped, then righted, but this time it wasn’t because of the damn devil’s trap nano-whatevers that psycho hunter had injected me with. Gray’s power had neutralized them, replenishing my own power in spades. Raw energy coursed through me. I felt stronger and more alive than I’d felt in ages, all of my senses magnified.
My blood was absolutely humming with her magic.
It felt… fuckingamazing.
As soon as you’re back, Cupcake, I’m going to return the favor… times a thousand.
I was just trying to figure out my game plan for finding the other witches in this dank-ass prison when I picked up on sounds in the corridor—heavy footsteps and conversation.
“…stringing along the little piss-ant for another week,” one guy was saying. “Two, tops.”
“You’re assuming he doesn’t have any more tricks up his sleeve,” another dude replied. “Far as I’m concerned, the sooner the old man takes control, the better.”
The footsteps stopped, and I heard the click of a lighter, followed by the unmistakable crackle of a cigarette being sucked to life.
In a rough voice, dude number one said, “Kid’s a fuck-up, Shears. Always has been. Smoke?”
“Fuck no. That shit’ll kill you faster than vamp blood.”
“Suit yourself.” Smokey Joe took another drag, then said, “Don’t hold your breath waiting on the old man. He talks a good game, but he won’t make a move as long as Jonathan’s alive. Can’t risk the kid fucking things up with Orendiel.”
Orendiel?The only asshole I’d ever heard of with a dickhead name like that was a fae soldier I’d met about fifty years back. From what I remembered, he was trying to work his way up the ranks in one of the dark courts, but he’d accidentally killed some prick royal heir and started a war instead.
Seemed to me those fuckers were always fighting, anyway.
Could it be the same guy was now working withthisshitshow?
“You seen him lately?” Shears asked. “Kid’s going downhill fast.”
“So?” Smokey Joe laughed. “Last time I checked, he was still breathing.”
“We’ll see.” Shears waited a beat, then said, “Where is that little fuckstain, anyway?”
“Should be down in B-block. He went to deal with the witch and her demon pet.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? That was an hour ago!” Shears groaned. “Come on, we’d better check it out. Sounds like he needs some adult supervision.”
