Chapter One
JUDE
This many centuries into my cursed immortal existence, only three things have the power to remind me I’m not dead: fucking, fighting, and killing. Give me the full monty on the same night? Stuff of wet dreams, that. Bloody brilliant.
But thanks to the mortal feds crawling up our arses after a botched hit job on a crooked judge—notmybotched hit job, mind you—Drae’s got us on a real tight leash. Been a whole twenty-seven days since I broke a bone or spilled so much as adropof someone else’s blood, and he’s still sore at me over the last bloke I put in the ground.
Human. Bastard abso-fuckin’-lutely deserved it too, but I digress.
As for myfavoriteway to pass the time?
Well.
I flick the lighter and hold the flame to the tip of the joint, sucking in a deep drag of witchweed. Across a pitch-black, dead-end street in Brooklyn’s Park Slope neighborhood, a square of golden light spills from a third-story brownstone window. A dozen crows hang out on the eves just above it, flapping and tittering like old codgers fighting over dominoes.
Those fucking birds show up here every night, same as me.
Watching. Waiting.
I’m pretty sure the little scarecrow inside knows she has an audience, too. But she’s a nice girl. Too polite to shoo us all away.
Lucky for us.
A shadow moves behind the sheer curtains, and I keep a close watch in anticipation of what’s to come.
She’s undressing for bed—my favorite part of the show.
Stripped down to her bra and panties, she saunters past the window, shaking out that gorgeous mane. Dark waves spill over her shoulders, covering her perfect, oh-so-suckable tits.
It’s the color of crow feathers, that hair. Shot through with a few silver locks that set off the brightest blue-green eyes you ever saw.
Unfortunately, I only ever got to see them up close the one time. I was heading back to the office from a late-night coffee run when I caught her feeding her crows in Madison Square Park. Some pervert was harassing her, but I chased him off real quick. After that, I chatted her up a bit. Offered her the fancy-arse almond joy latte I’d bought for Auggie and made her laugh enough times to get the sound of it stuck in my head forever.
Before I knew it, I was half the fuck in love with her.
So a bit later, when she thanked me for the coffee and said she had to get home, I did what any self-respecting half-lovesick arsehole would do.
I followed her.
Never did get her name, but I’ve been showing up here like a stalker every night since, hiding out in the shadows across the way and hoping for a peek.
Yeah, I know. Who’s the pervert now, right? Fuck it.
As for the shitbag who messed with her in the park… Would you believe it’s beenexactlytwenty-seven days since anyone’s heard from him? Poor chap. Although, there’s a human skull on my desk presently serving as a paperweight that bears a striking resemblance. Coincidence?
The curtains flutter and her silhouette glides past once more. Every graceful movement makes my dick hard as stone, aching to sink inside her wet little cunt and make her beg for all the filthy things she never even knew she wanted. Needed.
And oh, Iwillmake her beg.
In the end, they always do.
Her lights flick off. I hold my breath, heart slamming against my ribs.
Please come back, darling. I’ve gotsomany naughty, delicious plans for us…
Seconds later, the gauzy curtains part and I try not to squeal like a tween boy who’s just discovered the dark side of the internet. I take another hit of the witchweed, then flick the butt into the gutter, my attention lasering in on that window. Her face fills the glass, blue-green eyes luminescent in the dark.
Searching. Always searching.
