Keira reached up and stroked her hot skin. So that was Angus, the evil male Cyril cautioned against. Given Cyril’s description, Angus wasn’t what she’d expected. By Cyril’s account, she should be terrified not only for her life, but that of everyone in the pub. Instead, Keira burned from the contact and desire bloomed. She understood the concept of arousal, and, more than likely, had sex before, but she had not felt anything like this since awakening.

It was disturbing and thrilling.

As Cyril approached their table, his power grated her nerves. That was odd. She had been neutral to his presence but now she wanted to run from him.

“Did you order yet?” Cyril asked as he took his seat.

Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to tell him Angus was in the pub but then quickly decided against it. “No. The waitress has not been by,” she answered.

Instinct told her to keep the information on lockdown. There were so many unanswered questions, and the list was growing longer. This new development with Angus was the most disconcerting of all.

Angus’s magic was powerful, but not something she had sensed before. In her first moments of consciousness, she memorized the details of the fading spell she had been under, but nothing about Angus felt familiar or similar. If he were behind the spell, she should remember some small commonality, but she didn’t.

She recalled a night in Mexico a month ago when Cyril had whisked her out of a restaurant in the middle of their meal. She’d been enjoying a margarita when Cyril had grabbed her arm, tossed money on the table, and rushed her out the back door. A moment later magic tingled her senses right before Cyril teleported them to another tropical island. The enchantment of his power was almost identical to what she felt in the cave, and it confused and concerned her.

“What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well? Your skin is so pale,” Cyril pointed out as he grabbed her hand and glanced around the pub. His grip was cold and clammy in comparison to Angus’s flaming touch.

She recognized Cyril’s magic as it snaked through the restaurant, seeking danger and identifying the beings in their surroundings. He was extremely paranoid, always alert and searching for threats. Again, his hand went to the cobalt stone around his neck.

“I’m tired. We’ve been traveling from place to place so frequently I rarely get a chance to rest,” she admitted, sharing one thing that had been bothering her.

She needed to get to the ocean but didn’t dare ask Cyril for fear of upsetting him. They’d been visiting tropical places, and it had been torture to stay out of the water.

“I’ll tell you what. Instead of traveling to our next destination after lunch, we will check into a hotel and stay the night. What do you say?” Cyril offered with a smile as he lowered his head and kissed the back of her hand.

“Why do you worry that stone so much,” she asked to distract him. His lips lingered on her flesh and his dark eyes hooded.

The sign of affection had knots twisting in her stomach. Cyril had not hidden his desire for her. He wanted more and had been patient in his pursuit. Keira liked him. He was an agreeable male who had taken great care with her and had been a gentleman. Unfortunately, he was a good friend and nothing more. There was no passion, and she couldn’t force feelings she didn’t possess.

Before today, she couldn’t have put into words what was missing, but now she knew. She wanted that burn Angus elicited. Not that she wanted it with Angus, given what Cyril claimed he’d done to her, but she wanted to feel alive and free.

That thought stopped her cold. Not once during the encounter with Angus did her hatred over what he’d put her through surface. He separated her from her family and friends and that rage should’ve boiled over, but it didn’t. Was he so evil he could control her reaction to him? More questions bombarded her brain as Keira tried to decipher how a male capable of such evil could make her burn like no other.

“It brings me a sense of security. It’s a piece of our home realm. I’ll get our lunch to go. You don’t look so good,” Cyril proclaimed.

Something niggled about the tone of his voice. Before Keira could tease that out, the back of his hand brushed her forehead, and she closed her eyes. She needed to hide her expressions better. She’d come to loathe his third degree. When Cyril was onto something, he was like a dog hunting a bone. He didn’t relent.

“That would be wonderful. Some sleep and I’ll be good as new,” she lied. Sleep was the last thing on her mind, Keira thought, as she touched her cheek. It was flaming hot.

Angus promised they would see each other again and even though that should frighten her, part of her was anxious for that moment.

* * *

This was the fucking life. The narrow turn into Zeum loomed ahead, and Bhric was forced to ease off the accelerator. Going less than a hundred miles an hour was an insult to the machine between his legs.

The rush of hitting top speed was better than sex, Bhric thought. If he’d known how intoxicating the adrenaline rush would be, the motorcycle would’ve been purchased long ago. For the first time in centuries, he was torn between going for a long ride and finding a female for the night. Then again, hookups were the last thing on his mind lately.

Pulling out his flask, he twisted the top with one hand. Unfortunately, he approached the gate faster than expected and had to freehand while he retrieved the clicker from his jacket.

Smashing his thumb over the button, he laughed as he squeaked through without scratching the matte finish. He tipped back the container as he pulled to a screeching halt under the portico at Zeum.

The roar of the engine, followed by tires on asphalt, was more than enough to have every Dark Warrior rushing out the front doors with claymores drawn.

He took another swig of scotch then smiled, waving off the titanium surrounding him. “Meet Roxy,” Bhric shouted over the rumble before he killed the engine. There was power in this machine which intoxicated him as much as the liquor.

“When the fuck did you get a Tomahawk?” Zander shouted. Bhric smiled at the way his brother inspected his new toy. There was no denying the admiration in the Vampire King’s gaze.

“I picked her up a couple of hours ago. Isna she sexy?”

“I’ve never seen a motorcycle with two wheels, side by side, like that,” Elsie said, and at the same time Mack murmured, “That’s a badass ride, leech. Can I take it for a spin?”

Kyran walked behind his mate and wrapped arms around her waist, responding before Bhric could open his mouth. “Nay, firecracker. That’s too much machine for you to handle.”

“That’s not what you said last night, bloodsucker,” she replied with a grin. Bhric loved his brother and his feisty mate, but that was a visual he didn’t need.

“It suits you, brathair,” Breslin added then walked over and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

Her presence took the edge off, and he didn’t want to rip into everyone around him. They often joked their connection formed in the womb, and Bhric didn’t know what he would do without his twin sister. She grounded him in a way nobody else could. Once again, the urge to unload his problems on Breslin gnawed at his soul, but before he uttered the first word, a fist landed in his gut, stealing his breath.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have a death wish?” Breslin demanded.

Gasping, Bhric looked up and saw amber eyes glaring at him and wild auburn hair flaring around his sister’s infuriated face. What was her fucking problem?

“Doona worry, puithar. I ordered you one in pink. It’ll be here next week,” Bhric told her and grinned.

“I doona want it in pink, or any other color. They’re death machines, in my opinion. I could kill you for drinking and driving that thing.”

“‘Cmon, Bre. I didna even get it above 150. I am in complete control,” Bhric promised.

Some pretty shitty circumstances led to his increased consumption of alcohol, but it was hardly noteworthy. He was a big male, and it took larger quantities for supernaturals to become intoxicated, due to enhanced metabolisms. Besides, he wasn’t a fucking idiot, and knew his limitations.

“This cycle is no’ a machine to trifle with brathair. Doona drink and drive. Bre is right. ‘Tis a death trap under those circumstances,” Zander demanded as he continued to inspect the vehicle. “This isna bad for a racing bike, and is leaps ahead of those pocket rockets, but it willna touch my Harley,” Zander declared.

“You like Harleys because you’re old and have a massive stick up your arse,” he teased.

“‘Tis called responsibility. You should try it sometime,” Zander retorted.

“Honey, you’re not helping your case,” Elsie said with a pat to Zander’s chest.

“Mama, pretty,” Izzy clapped and bounced up and down beside Elsie.

“Aye, Dizzy Izzy. ‘Tis pretty,” Bhric cooed and reached down to tickle his niece’s tummy.

“No silly. Him,” the little girl replied, pointing behind Bhric.

As a unit, they turned, and their swords were at the ready in the next blink. The orange eyes were the first indication of who Izzy was talking about, but Bhric would bet his niece was more attracted to the iridescent quality of his skin.

“Rhett! Welcome back,” Zander called out.

Mack rushed over and embraced the fire demon. “How was your walkabout? I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

“It wasn’t as much fun as I had hoped. Guess this place got under my skin,” Rhett replied, and his eyes pinned Breslin.

“In your dreams, demon. Hose Rhett doon with antibiotics before he walks in the door, Jace. I doona want any scum he may have picked up infecting my niece and nephew,” Breslin snarled then turned on her heel and stormed into the house.

“I missed you, too, Flame,” Rhett called out and blew Breslin a kiss when she turned her head his way.

Fire danced around Breslin’s tall frame before exploding out then disappearing. Bhric had no idea what Rhett had done to his sister, but she hated that male with a passion.

“Good to know some things haven’t changed,” Mack observed and clapped Rhett on the shoulder. The two had become close friends when Mack and Kyran were trapped in the dragon realm of Khoth. “Still the lady charmer, Match. Let’s eat. Elsie made some of her famous étouffée and crawfish cornbread.”

“Sounds good to me. I’m famished,” Rhett replied to Mack, but his eyes remained trained on the door Breslin walked through.

Bhric should pound the male for panting after his sister, but she could handle herself. Plus, he was glad Rhett was back. The fire demon played a mean game of pool and enjoyed a cold brew.

“By the way, nice toy,” Rhett murmured before he followed the group into the house.

Glancing at the black and chrome beast, Bhric was tempted to take off again. He rarely got a break from reality before it came rushing back, pounding his brain. No doubt he could outrun the demons at his tail when driving Roxy.