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“Thank you, My Queen.” Elise scurries off and doesn’t look back, hiding up front while I am served dinner by an older gentleman and my husband watches me eat. It’s something he enjoys, to sit and quietly observe while I return the favor when he hunts. When he lets nature take its rightful place and he momentarily satiates the never-ending thirst.
My king has great control over his impulses. He only kills to eat, as any hunter would do.
It’s his nature to kill and drink. It’s sexy to watch him overpower his prey.
Like the man from last night, a drunk imbecile who thought it prudent to grab my wrist and yank me back, but before I could slam my elbow in his face, my husband had him by the neck with his feet dangling above the ground.
No mercy. No hesitation as he ran a metal nail—a humorous gift I had made for him—from one side of the man’s neck as if he were a chicken at a slaughterhouse. His eyes were an angry ruby red as the demon within him took control. Absolutely glorious to watch, a true aphrodisiac as he buried his fangs deep into the man’s neck and drained him of every drop of blood within his dead veins.
It was messy and angry, and my thighs clenched then as they do now with the memory, an action my husband catches. His nostrils flare and eyes become darker—hooded and hungry. A little feral, and I lick the last bite of my dessert sensually from the spoon.
A move he follows with a different unrestrained hunger.
“Two minutes, Gabriella.”
“Two minutes?” I ask, feigning an ignorance that makes him flash those sharp fangs at me. He’s yet to turn me at my request; my sister and I are bound by loyalty to our people after the death of our parents, but the time to crown a new ruler has come and our baby brother is now of age. He’ll be fair. He’ll do right by the throne while my sister and I follow two different paths.
One with a werewolf.
One with a vampire.
“Run, pretty girl.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” I taunt, leaning over to nip his jaw. “Now close your eyes and count to sixty. Come find me if you can.”
“Are you challenging your king?”
“Always, love. Always.”
33
Gabriella
I wake up panicked, a scream caught in my throat while a bit disoriented. There’s someone pounding on both the front door and back, multiple voices yelling, and then the wood splinters as they’re kicked open.
“What the fuck?” As I say this, my home becomes crowded by officers aiming their guns at my head, shouting orders that I don’t understand. It all feels like gibberish, like a Peanuts cartoon until I’m yanked up and thrown to the ground by a man twice my weight and pinned, hands pulled behind my back at an awkward angle.
It hurts. My head is fuzzy.
I’m lost between that dream, how real it felt compared to this, and I can’t make heads or tails of anything. Was that real and this is the dream? Why am I being arrested?
“Get off me,” I manage to squeak after a minute, lifting my head enough to take in the scene around me. They are trashing my house. The pictures on the walls are being torn down while the furniture is kicked over by a man and woman who I’m starting to loathe.
Her I don’t know, but Consuelos has become a familiar face.
“What are you doing to my house, Detective?” My voice rings out clear through the chaos, and all movements cease. “What right do you have to do this?”
Consuelos stops what he’s doing and walks over, pausing two steps from me. “You’re under investigation for the disappearance of Elise Scott, Miss Moore. We are placing you under—”
“Where’s the signed warrant from a judge?” I interrupt, knowing my rights. This is the third attempt to trample on them. “Why haven’t my rights been read, or the paperwork shown?”
“People like you don’t get those privileges.” The woman sneers, and it's then I notice she’s out of uniform, dressed all in black and the name Diana is spelled across the small breast pocket of her cotton shirt. “She told you to back off.”
“She who?”
“We have some blood on a tree near the back of the lot!” someone shouts from the kitchen area, prompting another two men to exit in a rush. No one speaks for a few minutes, but the tensions mount between those left inside. I’m left with Diana, Consuelos, and the man pinning me down. “I need someone to call in the forensics team.”
Nobody takes out their phones, though. Instead, the two standing look down at me with condescending smirks on their faces. “So where did you hide the body?” Diana starts the questioning, squatting down to where I’m being held, my body crushed against the floor. “Do you hate your best friend so much to have killed her? You stole her husband, and now this?”
