The Darkest Pleasure

'You'll march back there now! You're scaring the customers.'

Danika's gaze moved through the diner and landed on the mother and son. The woman had one arm locked protectively around the boy while the other pushed away the Coke Danika had given him. Both were staring at her in fear. Me? But I was merely defending myself.

Her eyes moved away, and Gilly came into focus. Concern radiated from the girl's face as she approached, obviously meaning to support Danika. She'd lose her job and today's pay, as well, and Danika couldn't allow that.

'I'll wait for the police at my apartment,' she lied.

'No, you won't,' Enrique said. 'You'll—'

Turning, she marched from the diner, head high, shoulders squared. Thankfully, no one tried to stop her, not even Bird Two. The night was warm, lit with neon signs and crowded. She felt as if she were spotlighted in the glare and everyone she passed was staring at her.

God, what was she going to do?

She quickened her pace, almost running. She had forty dollars in her pocket. Enough for a bus ticket somewhere. Where should she go? Georgia, maybe. The peach state was a good distance away. More importantly, she would pass through Oklahoma. She could search for her grandmother.

The thought had barely registered before something slammed into her back, propelling her into a darkened alley. She hit the pavement with so much force, oxygen whooshed from her lungs. Rocks cut past her thin sweater and T-shirt and into her skin. Her jaw cracked against the concrete. Bright white stars glittered behind her lids.

'Demon bitch!' a man growled at her temple, spittle spraying into her hair. Bird Two. Hadn't let her escape, after all. 'Did you really think I'd let you run again? You're ours and, baby, you're going to suffer just like your friends. I'm not allowed to kill them, but you…you'll beg for it.'

Instinct once again kicked into gear. Don't scream, just fight. Don't react, just strike. The words had been drilled into her mind and now seemed as much a part of her as her arm or leg. When her assailant grabbed her by the hair, lifting her, she spun of her own accord. Her scalp stung as the hairs ripped free, but that didn't slow her as she jabbed her arm forward to cut off his airway and buy herself enough time to slip free while he gasped for breath. Contact.

There was a grunt, a wail. His hold on her loosened.

Warm liquid ran down her fingers, pooling in her knuckles. What the—realization clattered through her. She'd still been gripping the pencil and she'd shoved the tip deep into his jugular—just as she'd stopped herself from doing in the diner.

'Oh, my God. Oh, my God!' Dazed, she scrambled to her feet. She swayed and had to grab on to his shoulders to stay upright. Horror nearly drowned her as the man fell to his knees, gurgling.

Moonlight seeped past the buildings surrounding him, highlighting his pale, pain-filled, shocked features. He tried to speak, but no sound emerged.

'I'm sorry!' She splayed her fingers, releasing him completely. She held up her hands, palms out, and the blood poured down her arms. Panic blended with her horror. There was no precious numbness to be found. Not now.

One step, two, she backed away. Oh, God. Oh, God. Murderer, her mind screamed. You're a murderer. The metallic scent of his blood blended with the aromas of urine and body odor.

Two slumped, collapsed onto the concrete. His head was turned and his eyes seemed to focus on her as his chest stilled. Oh, God. Bile rose in her throat. You had to do it. He would have killed you.

Not knowing what else to do, Danika spun, ran and barreled through the people crowding the far side of the building. Those neon signs illuminated her every movement, and her raspy pants were like drumbeats in her ears. No one tried to stop her.

Two weeks ago in New York, one of her self-defense instructors had told her that she didn't have a killer instinct.

If only.

I'm as bad as the monsters.

CHAPTER THREE

'I KNOW WHERE your woman is.'

Reyes straightened on the couch, the tip of the knife stilling inside his arm. He'd pushed it deep, so deep he'd sliced the vein in half. But the wound healed all too soon, sealing shut around the blade. Blood dried on his skin.

He'd jumped from the roof three days ago and was only now recovered enough to walk. Unfortunately. Pain was louder and more demanding than ever, wanting something more. What, Reyes didn't know. This cut hadn't helped in the least.

He ripped the weapon free, creating another injury. He licked his bottom lip, trying to savor the pain. This injury healed quickly, as well. Not enough of a sting. Never enough.

'Nothing to say to me?'

'You're as bad as Gideon.' He glared over at Lucien, who stood in the doorway. The warrior's dark hair fell in waves to his shoulders and his mismatched eyes gleamed with expectation.

'As if I would lie.'

They were alone in the entertainment room. Paris, who could usually be found there watching one of his fleshfests, was now in the city, keeping up his strength by bedding as many women as he could. Maddox and his woman, Ashlyn, were in their bedroom. As always.

Sabin and the other warriors were currently in the kitchen—they'd kicked Reyes out ages ago for bleeding on the table—outlining a plan to raid the Temple of the Unspoken Ones in Rome without humans knowing they were there.

Reyes doubted the temple would lead the way to the All-Seeing Eye, the Cloak of Invisibility or the Paring Rod, whatever that was, but he was in the minority so he kept quiet. Still, he knew he was right. If there were something to be found amid the crumbling rock, moss and seashells, they would have found it by now. Besides, the Cage of Compulsion they'd discovered after searching the Temple of the All Gods hadn't helped them find the box in any way.

Yes, it was a nice weapon to own. Anyone locked inside that cage was magically compelled to do anything the owner commanded of them. But who were they supposed to lock inside it? What were they supposed to command that person to do? Until they learned the answers, he suspected Lucien and Anya would continue to play with it like naughty children.

'Reyes,' Lucien said. 'We were discussing Danika.'

'No, we weren't.' He wanted her purged from his mind, but he was beginning to suspect she was a permanent part of him now. Like his demon. Only worse. She had destroyed his precious sense of peace. Peace that had not returned, even while he was lying in bed, broken and throbbing in delicious agony.

'Shall I tell you what I know about her?' Lucien asked.

Do not take the bait. You're better off not knowing. Without Reyes providing a constant stream of tangible pain, his demon would spiral out of control, ravenous for someone's bodily suffering. His—others. It didn't matter. That's one of the reasons he'd sent Danika away. Were he to find her, he might one day hurt her irreparably.

'Tell me,' he found himself commanding, his voice hoarse.

'Three days ago, she stabbed a man.'

That sweet little angel, hurt a human? Reyes snorted. 'Please. Now I'm sure you are lying.'

'When I have never lied to you before?'

No, Lucien had never lied to him. Reyes gulped back a surge of bile, his next words emerging hard and