I silently watched from my perch on the rooftops of Paris as the creature who’d been stalking me for months strolled through the streets. I’d been following her ever since I found out from my web of informants she was on my trail. I wanted to discover why she sought me, though I could guess the reason. She was just another in a long line of tourists seeking the kind of release only I could give. She certainly wasn’t the first. And I sighed to think that she wouldn’t be the last.

My reputation had been cemented from my earliest days as an incubus, which meant there would always be someone looking for me, wanting the pleasure I gave so easily. My love of the flesh and my ability to please had drawn more women than I could count over the long years. So many names and faces I could no longer remember.

I turned my thoughts back to the present and greedily took in the female’s form as she ambled down the street, her hips swaying tantalizingly. I waited for the usual lust to rise inside me, the darkness clamoring for its next feeding.

But there was something different about this female. Something more than the common pleasure of a night and then nothing. Just looking at her seemed to calm the seething blackness inside me, if only for a moment. I sensed that, like me, my demon was given pause by her. I’d never felt anything like it.

As I dropped to a lower building as stealthily as a cat, I saw she was deep in thought, her walk slowing as she stared at the moon. Why was her gaze so rapt?

I jumped from rooftop to rooftop, keeping her always in my sights. Something about her made me itch to watch her. I’d discovered her name was Lilah, but not much more than that. No one could tell me anything else—even when I used forceful persuasion—other than a vague description of the strange runes etched on her. Perhaps she was yet another assassin, sent to dispatch me for bedding some demigod’s lover. The thought excited me all the more. Danger was always the headiest aphrodisiac.

I suspected the runes were a warning in some ancient tongue, but couldn’t be sure until I saw them up close. But I never got close. Never let her know I was near. I’d been tailing her through local dives, watching her speak with my informants. She was a wily one, never giving any details about herself while she gleaned bits and pieces about me along the way. She’d amassed enough intel to discover Red-Handed, though her information was a little stale.

There was a time when I’d frequented the place often, enjoying the women I picked up so easily. The location had been a bar for over a thousand years, only recently reincarnated as a goth club for Underworlders and unsuspecting mortals.

For the past century, I’d only gone there as a matter of necessity when Corinne wasn’t available. Once Lilah took up residence at the bar over the past few weeks, I had followed.

I kept to the VIP section, watching her from a dark corner booth. I needed to know why she was after me. For now, though, I would enjoy the cat-and-mouse game. I had plenty of time to wait her out, watching her all the while. And I’d always been a voyeur.

A scent on the air made me wrinkle my nose. Foul dog. I cursed silently as the wolf from the bar crept up behind Lilah. She had continued her journey toward the Seine, still looking at the night sky. I’d wanted to rip the wolf’s throat out when I saw it pawing her at the bar. It had been a fight just for me to keep a level head.

It didn’t help that the female always wore outfits that spoke to my darker side. Nonexistent skirt and crimson corset? She was a lure for any Underworld male who saw her, especially so to one like myself. I wouldn’t fall into her trap, but that didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy watching her bait it.

Clever witch—her outfits had become sexier the more desperately she tried to find me. She knew enough about me to realize what I craved, and her appearance alone was something I would have found hard to resist. No matter that she was stalking me, maybe even intent on killing me for some past wrong that I’d long forgotten.

Her long black hair, now in a careless ponytail, reached the middle of her back, lingering there, undoubtedly tickling her fair skin through the laces. Her high, plump breasts were revealed more and more each night she visited Red-Handed, tonight being the pinnacle of their exposure. Her curvy waist only enhanced her voluptuousness and had left me hard in my trousers on more than one occasion.

I turned my attention back to the wolf and watched and waited for Lilah to notice it. She was uncharacteristically unaware; still pondering the night sky, now with determination set into the fine planes of her face. The wolf continued stalking her, not even attempting to hide in the shadows. His arrogance was an affront. But Lilah didn’t sense him.

When the wolf was upon her, she finally turned. It was too late. The wolf shoved her into a dark alley and pinned her against the wall. I crouched just above them.

“Bitch, you’re gonna pay for what you did.” The wolf’s snarl raised my hackles.

“Bad dog!” she cracked and tried to claw his eyes. The wolf was too fast. He hurled her to the ground onto her back, no doubt scraping the exposed skin raw. She rolled away and got to her feet. The beast did not abate. It ripped at her top and flayed her corset to get to her delicate flesh.

Just the thought of the wolf’s claws touching her made my blood chill, as if it weren’t cold enough already.