I flipped my eyes open to a white ceiling. I lay flat on my back on the rug in the apartment and propped myself up, smiling because I was finally free and in control.

Night smeared the city outside the apartment, and fuck me lucky, but I felt like a newborn child. Refreshed and ready to take on the world. I stretched my arms in the air, my bones cracking as a breeze from the window curled around me. Goosebumps coated my skin, puckering my nipples.

“You babies will take me places.” I rubbed my palms over them, and already a rippled excitement coursed through me. My hand dipped down my stomach when a ding sounded, and I looked up to the phone flashing on the counter. So I strutted over and grabbed it, tapping the message from Ryder.

I smirked as I pictured my guys waiting at the bar, and a thrill coiled in my gut. First, clothes. I marched into Raven’s bedroom and opened her closet. That girl had style and if I intended to impress anyone tonight, lame-ass T-shirts weren’t cutting it. What had I been thinking with that shit all these years, anyway? A complete train-crash decision. I pulled out outfit after outfit, but most sucked.

Red skirt had potential, except it was too long. “Show flesh to get action. That’s officially my new motto.”

After dumping half the clothes onto the bed and floor, I stared at the black number in my hands. “Oh baby, you will do.” I stepped into the strapless, silky dress and glided the fabric up my body. I tugged the zipper from my waist to my armpit with a struggle. My tits were about to burst out of this dress. Perfect. And with the tight skirt falling to just below my butt, this was definitely the right outfit.

Rummaging through Raven’s drawers, I selected the laciest and tiniest thong I found and stepped into it. And to top everything off, I grabbed the leather knee-length boots at the back of the closet. “Oh, Raven, you have incredible taste.”

I twirled in the mirror attached to the bathroom door. An hourglass figure, toned legs, and a bouncy cleavage. Ink curled around my arms and across my collarbone. “Now, this is me going out in style. No wonder I had man-troubles before.”

A quick ruffle of my hair, and I applied a striking red lipstick, and baby, I was ready to paint the night in blood. Everyone else’s of course.

“Fuckety crappy hipster joint. What’s up with the shit music?” I stood at the entrance to the Howling Wolf bar as an Elvis tune played through the speakers. A group of girls from a nearby table turned my way, glaring like I’d hurt their feelings. Ha!

Black and white photos of random people riddled the walls. As I strolled past the gawking girls studying me head to toe, I leaned in close to the brunette in a hoodie.

“Girls, a bit of advice. You ain’t gonna ever find a man dressed like a slob and why the hell are you playing Jenga in a bar instead of focusing on your appearance? Show flesh to get action.”

“Who the hell—?” started one of the girls.

I waved them off and strolled deeper into the long bar, scanning the single man cradling a drink at the counter, and the place was dead as a doornail.

No sign of the men. Pretty sure this was the only Howling Wolf place in the city, so they better not have ditched me, or I was stalking their asses.

A booming laughter reached me from the back corner, and I closed the distance toward Ryder’s chuckling, only to come to a door left ajar.

I shoved it open to three startled faces. Ryder, Dean, and Asher sat around a wooden table, a bottle and glasses on one end. A candelabra hung overhead with dimly-lit lights while a couch was across the back, and those hideous monochrome photos mauled these walls.

“Hello, boys!” With a hip pressed into the doorframe, I ruffled my hair and stared at them. Three perfect catches and all mine for the taking.

“Sephy?” Ryder cocked an eyebrow. “What are you wearing?”

I flinched and stared down at myself. “Geez, can’t a woman look spectacular?” I sauntered into the room and kicked the door shut behind me.

Three sets of eyes followed me, and their gazes worked their way over my body. I trembled with anticipation and giggled, adoring the hunger in their stares. Having them worship me in such a way had me putting an extra spring in my step.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you out of your T-shirts,” Ryder waffled on. “You’re fucking hot, but—”

“But what?” I hissed. “Things change, pussycat.” I glided toward him and hopped onto his lap, my arms snaking around his neck.

His eyes widened, but he didn’t shove me aside.

“You can’t possibly tell me you find me offensive? I’ve seen the way you fuck me with your stares.”

I clenched his hair in my fists and pulled him toward me. Our mouths clashed, and I kissed him with starvation, needing closeness, and his hesitation lasted but a second. Then he softened against me, and the moment his greedy hands looped around my waist, I broke free. His glazed eyes fastened on me.

“Better?” I grinned, pressing my breasts against his chest, and licked the length of his neck. A moan curled on this throat, and I smiled.

“Sephy, what’s going on?” Dean asked from across the table, his voice wavering as if seeing me with Ryder had caught him off-guard. And how I loved the sensation of hearing the agony in his voice that he probably wished I was in his lap.

I turned around in Ryker’s lap to face the blond hunk dressed in a short-sleeved top with a V-neck. He wore his shoulder-length hair parted down the middle and tucked behind his ears. Tanned skin and sparkling blue eyes. The epitome of a surfer who ought to grace the front of sports magazines, but he was so much more. I sensed the darkness beneath the surface. He’d seen too much death and he might have concealed it with a smile, but inside lay loathing and a deep hankering for retribution. He wasn’t far from snapping, and all he needed was a small nudge.

“Dean, we are so good for each other,” I purred the words, and climbed out of Ryder’s embrace and onto the table. On hands and knees, I slinked closer, my attention locked on Dean’s.

A quick glance over my shoulder, and Ryder’s mouth hung open as he took me in from behind. “That’s right, fuzzy tail, enjoy the view.”

“What the hell are you doing? Is this why you called us here, to do a strip dance?” Asher’s words vibrated and he shot to his feet, arms tight by his side. His charcoal buttoned-up shirt and hair gave him that tall, dark, mysterious appearance. He’d have no issues with women, not with those shoulders and thick forearms. I had high promises that his girth continued in the downstairs department. But something about him seemed dangerous… like his eyes and the shadows dancing beneath them. Bring it on.

I leaned back on my heels, still on top of the table. “Sit down,” my commanding voice boomed, echoing through the room.

He staggered backward, falling into another seat. My words were an invisible hand, shoving him off his feet.

“Now let’s play a game. And no one is leaving this room until I say so.”

Dean stood, and the corded muscles in his neck twitched. His fear itched down my arms. Sweet perspiration flooded my nostrils.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

Asher kept exchanging glances with Dean, and Ryder behind me was shaking his head.

“You three are no fun. Okay, have any of you played, Lazy Susan?”

No one responded.

“To be fair, I just made up the game, but you know when you go out for Chinese, the tables have those turntable trays to aid in distributing food? Well, the rules are similar, but I’m the meal on the table and you’re the starving patrons, taking turns to devour me.” Shit, just imagining myself being passed around had me burning and wetness collecting between my legs.

Dean cocked a brow while Asher hovered in the shadows like a ghost. The scraping of a seat sounded behind me, and iron hands gripped my arms. Just having Ryder holding me had me thrumming with elation.

“She’s got to be possessed.” Dean rushed around the table toward us, as did Asher.

“You’re all boring as bat shit.”

Ryder drew me off the table with such strength, I gasped.

“Pussycat, that’s it. Make it hurt.” He jammed me face-first into the wall, and my nipples pebbled as I clenched my thighs. “Yes, do it now. Force yourself on me.”

In an instant, I was spun around, my back pressed to the wall, Asher hauling one arm outward, and Ryder taking the other.

Dean stood in front of me. “Sephy, if you can hear me, fight this.”

I laughed because this was ludicrous. “Come on. Now you’re just teasing me. You promised me bondage and pain, and instead you blabber. Shit, there are three of you and one of me. What’s the problem?”

“Honey,” Ryder began, “please, this isn’t you.”

“You’re wrong. This is the real me.”

“What the shit do we do?” Asher called out over the ridiculous Elvis music that seemed louder in this room than in the bar.

Dean was in my face, his hands clasping either side of my head. “In the name of the Father—”

A piercing ache settled across my skull, and I screamed. Fury slammed through me because I’d had enough of their ungratefulness.

“Bitches. For that, you’ll become my fuck puppets.” With a deep inhale, my inner strength bubbled in my chest like lava, and I bellowed as a stream of black smoke expelled from my mouth. “Show your true forms.” The mist shot out toward each man, vanishing into their mouths, noses, and ears. Just a little power to help the spirits come out.

In an instant, my restraints loosened, and the surrounding men contorted, fell over, and groaned. Dean dropped to his knees, his body trembling, and when a low growl rolled in his chest, I bounced on my toes and clapped.

“Yes, yes.”

Ryder threw punches, battling a foe only he saw. Always the fighter. While Asher convulsed against the back wall, sliding into a ball.

Euphoria flooded me to watch Dean’s body stretch and crack. White fur exploded across his body as his spirit pushed forward. His flesh rippled and his limbs elongated and reshaped. So fluid, the transformation left me in awe—truly, a thing to be cherished.

Legend explained that shifters had originated from the union of a Loa Petro spirit of destruction, and a Mambo, a Voodoo high priestess. The other deities had demanded their exile, but no action was taken by God, so they took the matter into their own hands and hunted down the demonic spirit. They beat and locked him inside a cave for eternity. But unbeknownst to them, the priestess was pregnant, and she gave birth to two hundred children. Each was a shifter, taking a different animal form. To protect her children from the deities’ wrath, she sent them to hide amid the humans. No one knew exactly which Loa Petro was banished, nor where his cave was, but many have tried to find him, believing with him back in power, shifters would rise to take their place amid the deities.

A wet nose prodded my hand, and I glanced down at the wolf. Dean reached my waist in height and his eyes were white. No pupils.

“Hi, handsome.”

He released short bark-like sounds and shook himself, his fur shaggy. He faced the door to the bar and bared his teeth.

I patted his head. “The humans will finally be yours tonight. All the people in the city are your buffet, my pet.”

Dean turned toward me and licked his lips.

“Are we sitting here like morons or having fun?” Ryder declared and banged the bottle of whisky as he set it down on the table.

He marched to my side and slid a hand under my dress, squeezing my ass. “Ready to become my sausage queen?” He chuckled, and I snorted in response. The spirit inside Ryder had long worshipped me even when he’d been a human—a gang lord with over one hundred kills under his belt and just as many cuts and injuries.

The wolf spirit in Dean had slaughtered his family in a ritual to Lao Baka who had influence over werewolves, but I drew Dean under my wing.

“Let’s do this.” Who didn’t love a night of debauchery, getting drunk, and hunting? Blood sports were so underrated.

A low hum came from the corner of the room, and I smiled as Asher lifted himself from his crouched position like a predator ready to strike. He towered over us, standing at seven foot, his face an illusion. One minute, he resembled Asher with dark hair with a permanent frown, but when he moved, the light hitting his face morphed his head to that of a skull. The imagery flickered back and forth between the two. A serial killer in his time, collecting people’s hearts as trophies. When he’d died, he’d been claimed by a psychopomp, a dark entity who owed me a favor, so he had lent him to me for this mission. After all, I needed someone to keep the gates closed so spirits didn’t leave this world. Not until I pulled them under my rein.

Ryder pushed a glass into my hand, and I chugged down the whisky before getting a refill. Ryder poured a drink on the ground for Dean to lap up while Asher tipped it all into his mouth and took a bite out of the glass with his razor teeth. Nothing scared him.

“Time to steamroll.” Ryder hooted, and Dean broke into a howl.

My adrenaline soared. “We’ll make this a game. Whoever brings me the greatest number of kills can take this shiny new body of mine for a ride first. Deal?”

Ryder made a clicking sound with his tongue and eyed my breasts, while Asher nodded once, and Dean bumped into me, sticking his nose up my skirt.

I burst out laughing. “Excellent.”

The door swung open, and we all turned to find a young bartender in a black apron over a tank top and jeans. “Jesus Christ. This ain’t no whore house, and no animals are permitted. You three gotta leave.” Then her gaze settled on Asher as he stepped out of the shadows.

Her face paled, and she screamed so delightfully, the music rang in my ears.

“Let the night’s merriments begin.”

She spun and bolted out of there, but Dean charged. He crashed into her back, bringing her to the ground. The girl hollered in pain as Dean bit down into the back of her neck, and the coppery scent flooded my senses. She bucked and kicked. Dean picked her up and shook her before tossing her into a chair. She crashed to the ground, the broken chair underneath. The woman whimpered and dragged herself under a table, blood trailing behind her.

Fear always had me buzzing with adrenaline. “She’s mine for later.”

In the bar, the women playing their stupid game scrambled from the table, but Dean darted across the room and careened to block the doorway. Lips peeled over exposed teeth, dripping with blood. Ears flattened against his head and he hunched low, ready to attack. Sweet fuck, but he’d make me proud. I placed my bets on him getting the most kills tonight.

The women cried and sniffled, huddled in a cluster toward a corner booth. I’d forgotten how delectably tempting they sounded, and my stomach growled for their soul collection. No one had said I couldn’t chew on a few. My master wouldn’t find out.

Ryder jumped over the bar. He downed half a bottle of whisky before sauntering back to the four women. “Ladies, ladies. I have something special in store for each of you.”

Asher never left my back, while Dean circled the bartender under the table.

“This is our time,” I called out, drawing their attention. “A time to make our presence known and collect as many souls as we can to feed Kalfu for his emergence.”

The rift of tunes booming from the speakers grated on my nerves. “And for fuck’s sake. Someone switch off the shithole music.”

“Sephy?” a male’s voice rang across the room, and I twisted around.

Knox stood in the bar’s entrance.

I sniffed the air and picked up on the tainted blood on his bitten arm. He was marked. But something else lingered—a toxicity that burned my nostrils. But seeing him had my knees shuddering, and I loathed that he made me made my body react to him. Yes, breaking him was a must.