The door slammed shut in my face with a deafening boom. And, for a second, I couldn’t get it together, desperation, need, joy swirled together in the perfect form…but rage won…

Rage always won.

I dropped my shoulder and lunged, slamming into the door with a bone-jarring crunch. The handle refused to budge. Goddamn fucking metal. I gripped the handle and twisted. “Redemption! I saw you, you gutless prick. Open the fucking door.”

There was no answer, only the grip on the other side of the handle. I shoved and pushed, driving my shoulders into the door time and time again. “I’ll tell the Director about the drugs. I’ll fucking tell everyone!”

The door opened with a sudden rush. I fell forward, gripping the handle for my fucking life, and stumbled into the room.

“Where is she?” I spun toward him, staring into dark Unseelie eyes. “Where is Alma?”

He shook his head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I stumbled around the dressing room, yanking open the curtains to the cubicles before I spun. “You…you fucking know. Lying, selfish bastard. What have you done to her?”

I skimmed my waist, fingers dancing along my belt as I dragged the obsidian blade free. Unseelie or not. I’d kill him. Stab him in the fucking heart until I sent his sorry ass back to wherever he came from.

He shook his head, glanced at the weapon in my hand, and then stilled. “Where is she, Redemption? And this time, no lies.” I glanced toward the walls, searching the red and pink gowns that hung from the hangers. Sparkle and fur could hide someone that small.

“I want you to listen to me, Lorn. Look at me…Lorn.”

I wrenched my gaze back to his voice. He lifted a hand and took a slow step. “You know me…right? We’ve known each other for a long time now. We were lovers once, remember? Before you told me to leave.”

“You cheated,” the truth fucking burned. I’d never said the words out loud. Never wanted to hear them. “I caught you, all the late-night calls to work. All the secret meetings. I followed you one night.” I lifted my gaze, finding those fucking cruel eyes. “You never went to The Circle.”

His pale skin turned ashen. Torture twisted his face. A face I loved…once. He swallowed, and then swallowed once more. Pain etched husky words. “I’d never hurt you, never betray you. I want you to listen to me. You’re sick, Lorn. You touched the drug, remember? Last week when you were called in to help with the battle of the witches, and today…”

My gaze slipped. I tried to remember, tried to think.

“I’m so sorry for that. So fucking sorry. But your mind…it’s playing tricks on you. You feel different, don’t you?”

I flinched at those words and lifted my gaze.

“You feel different, don’t you?” He took a step, hand reaching for the blade in my hand.

Was he right? Was this all in my head? I glanced at the mirror, staring at the reflection of the door. Was Alma all in my head. “I feel powerful,” I whispered. “And dangerous.”

His hand trembled, steps slow. He should be slow. He should be scared. I closed my eyes. “What’s happening to me, Redemption?”

I felt the thud of his steps, felt the brush of his thumb along my cheek. I sank into his warmth as he gripped the knife in my hand and pulled me toward him.

“I don’t know.”

I didn’t want to hear those words. Pain flared across my palm. Burning, gnawing. I bit my lip and rode the wave. He was right. I touched it...I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know what it was…not until I saw it again with the demon…

And the bodies.

All those bodies.

“I don’t want to be like this anymore,” I whispered and lifted my head. “I don’t want this pain, this loneliness.”

“I know,” he tried to force steel into his words, but they just sounded like broken glass. “I’d take it for you if I could. We loved each other, didn’t we?”

Hope flared in the blue.

“Once,” I dropped my hand and stepped away. “But not anymore.”

I turned my back on his pain. Turned my back on him. I’d suffered enough with his lies and schemes, carrying the burden until I couldn’t take any more.

Only now I had to work with him.

Now I had to be fucking professional.

“I’m leaving,” he murmured. “And, as you can see, there’s no one here. Go home, Lorn, and take care of yourself.”

He walked toward the door and gripped the handle.

I got the hint. I was never that fucking slow.

I left the lights behind, left it all behind. My steps were automatic and slow as I headed back along the hall. I replayed that moment time and time again. The door closing…the reflection in the mirror.

Her eyes widening. I saw her. I knew I saw her.

The music grew louder, thundering with the heavy beat of ACDC as I cut along the dance floor and headed for the front door.

No one stopped me this time as I left the strippers and the night life behind. My ears rang as I shoved through the front door and stepped out into the night. The three-eyed bouncer was gone, as was the long line into the club.

I’d fucked it all up. Lost my phone. Lost the damn demon.

I dragged in the sweetness of early morning, turned left, walked to the corner, and then left again. The metal door still hung open, the busted lock still sat on the ground. It felt like days had passed, days trapped inside that place.

I glanced at the walls and searched for murals. I’d heard of places like this that were spelled to steal time. That once you went in there, it was literally days before you left.

A can rattled, bouncing and rolling along the ground. I flinched at the sound and caught movement in the alley. These streets weren’t safe. Nothing good comes after midnight.

A cat hissed, and then howled. Icy fingers skimmed along my spine. The scuff of boots echoed behind me. He couldn’t leave me alone, could he? “I told you I was leaving, Redemption,” I snarled and spun.

Neon blue lights of the bar splashed against bare skin as the demon took another step closer and grinned. There was a second where I caught the row of razor-sharp teeth, before I was hit from behind.

The blow was brutal, cracking the back of my head, jarring my thoughts. My knees buckled and darkness rushed.

I couldn’t stop the fall.

Couldn't stop a damn thing as I hit the ground.

* * *

“There she is.”

A savage growl pulled me to the surface. I cracked open my eyes. Bald head. Bald head and fucking ugly. I licked my lips and tried to find my thoughts. “Just you wait…I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

“What was that?” The demon growled and leaned down. He lifted a hand and pierced my forehead with a crusty yellow nail, right between my damn eyes. “Wanna say that again, Princess.”

“I’ll kick your ass,” the words were nothing more than a slur. “Then send you back to Hell.”

He smiled, his crooked teeth honed to a razor's edge. He’d cut me with those teeth, carve my flesh, drink my blood. I’d be a pile of poop…like all the others. “I’d like to see you try…” His gaze narrowed, thick, slug-like tongue snaked out to lick his lips. “But I got a better idea.”

He turned his head. Agony flared, savaging my head. I blinked and stared into the darkness. There was a moan, one of pain…but not the kind of pain I had. It was followed with a whimper, and then a sigh.

Shadows cloaked them like a second skin, but there was enough light through a window to show me more. A match flared, drawing my gaze, and a second later the soft orange of a fire filled the air.

There was more…the young woman from the club, the one with adoring eyes, lay back against a sofa, legs splayed open. The short leather skirt rose along laddered fish net stockings, revealing a little too much flesh.

The demon turned his head, following my gaze. “She likes it,” he murmured and pulled out a small transparent square. “She likes the blood of the one she belongs to.”

The one she belongs to? My thoughts were slow…too slow. I narrowed in on the infernal beast in front of me. “She doesn’t belong to you, you sick bastard.”

He turned to me, eyes alight, grinning that foul grin. “No, she doesn’t. She belongs to the one God, the only one that ever matters. The Dark Lord, ruler of Hell itself…Lucifer.”

My chest tightened, my heart thundered, squeezing and clenching. I tried to focus, tried to see her. Others moved in, crowding my view, and, as the fire grew, the more I saw.

Wolves and humans lay entangled. Mouths open, waiting for the drug to hit their tongues. I was surrounded by them, smothered in their lust. “Stop,” I called. “You don’t know what it’s doing.”

Agony raced across my palm as the demon moved in. He reached out, and this time there was no scrape of those claws…this time he gripped my jaw and yanked.

My lips parted, my mouth opened. I shook my head, digging his claws deep.

“Get off eee,” muffled words were all I had.

Lightning slashed across my head as I swung my fist. The goddamn blow was weak, and useless. He moved fast, slipping something into my mouth before he slammed my jaw shut. “Teach you for following me.”

I tried to fight, tried to spit the shit from my mouth. But he held on…held on while the sliver against my tongue softened, held on while it dissolved.

“Spread it wide,” the demon hissed. “That’s what my Master wants. Spread it wide and wait for her to come.”

The woman with her legs splayed reached out for him. Magic danced on the end of her fingers. Shadows swirled like a growing storm, all in the middle of her palm. “He loves me,” she whispered and stared at me with vacant eyes. “More than my husband ever did. More than Titus.”

I stilled, hard breaths filled my ears. “What…what did you say?”

Her lips curled, baring her teeth. But it was that spot I focused on. That mark above her top lip. The same mark I saw in a photo beside his bed.

This was not just any groupie.

This was Titus Banks' wife.

And the real reason he hunted this bald-headed bastard.

The real reason for revenge.

Agony flared, carving across my palm. I lifted my hand and the red sigil across my palm pulsed. Darkness rushed in, and it wasn’t filled with shadows and secrets.

This was the real darkness. This was the real terror. Moans punctured the air and a guttural snarl ripped free.

“Hey,” someone called out. “Stop that.”

The outline of a wolf grew in front of the fire, splashing the monstrous form against the wall. The beast lunged, savaging, ripping…and the sickening stench of blood filled the air.

Pain…and terror. It was all within my reach…so much hate…so much hurt. Filling me, calling me. The sigil on my palm pulsed, sending the beat through the room.

“Something’s wrong,” Titus’s wife moaned, and she rolled over. She lifted her head and then stilled. “Alastor.”

There was no answer, so she turned her head and tried to focus that far-away gaze on baldy.

But the demon was busy…staring wide-eyed at me. He glanced at the mark on my hand, and then at me. Black eyes widened as he dropped to his knees. “You’re here,” he whispered. “You’re finally here.”

The rush of power consumed me. I could force them…I could take them. I lifted my head and drew in the scent. All the demons, all the hellhounds, all the wolves, they were on the hunt…for me.

The Wild Hunt.

A shadow rushed, fangs and fur flew across my vision as the wolf flew across the room to sink fangs into the demon’s neck.

Black blood spurted, carving an arc through the air as the wolf savaged and thrashed, flinging its head from side to side.

I tried to fight the drug, tried to climb to my feet as the room erupted. I shoved, fell forward on my hands and knees. A blast of gunfire filled the air with a deafening boom. I collapsed onto the floor and then crawled forward.

“Alastor,” the woman screamed. Her eyes were wide now, fear-filled and unhinged.

“Hey!” I called for her. My voice was thick and husky. The pulse in my hand throbbed against the floor.

The beat trembled, sending the heavy vibe through the room. Screams followed, terrible, violent screams that sent shivers along my spine.

“Come with me…I’ll protect you.” The room swayed as I shoved forward.

But she didn’t listen, clawing and shoving until she wobbled on two feet. She slipped and hit the ground hard, kneeling for a second before she tried once more.

Demon blood dripped from her fingers and raced along her arm. She stared at the mess as a shot exploded in the room once more, and then she was gone, lunging through the room toward the fire.

“No!” I shoved forward as the wolf turned.

But he wasn’t interested in her. Silver eyes glinted in the glow of the fire, fixed on me. The beast stepped over the bodies that littered the room, moving closer one slow step at a time.

Something cold and slick squelched between my fingers as I shoved against the floor. “Stay back,” I snarled, and reached for my waist.

But my blade was gone…I tried to think…Redemption…Alma. I fumbled for the heel of my boot and pressed. It was too small…

The sickening snarl sounded all around me as I lifted one hand and drew the blade free. Pain. I filtered through the wolf’s memories, twisting emotions, and nerves. The beast stilled. Hunger and hate dulled its eyes before black lips curled.

My palm pulsed, calling, searching, finding the beat within us all and, as the wolf reared back on hind legs, I knew I’d made one terrible mistake.

I’d used pain to back the wolf into a corner…and for the beast there was only one way forward—through me.

“Get down!”

The guttural scream tore through the room as a boom followed. The wolf lunged and was hit mid-air. Bones crunched as it hit the ground, still, then the thing moved, clawing along the floor, feral eyes fixed on me.

Shadows descended, but this time there was the outline of a man as the shot tore through the room once more, and the wolf slumped fully to the floor.

This time there was no moving. This time there was no more blood to spill.

Strong hands slid under my legs as an arm wound around my back. “I’ve got you,” he murmured, and lifted.

I tried to lift my head, tried to find his face in the dark.

Orange flames were all I saw as he turned and carried me from the room. But the fire wasn’t from the middle of the carnage we left behind.

It was the hungry hellfire that danced in his eyes as the hellhound held me close and carried me from the building, out into the night.

Pain savaged my palm. A cry slipped free.

“Stay with me,” the hellhound growled, eyes alight with hunger. “Lorn…stay with me.”

How does he know my name?

The thought took flight, but there was no answer…there was nothing but the roar of agony, taking me under…

“Lorn,” the hellhound called my name, but the darkness was rising, consuming, lifting me until I couldn’t feel anything but the rush, and I was swept away.