Zoey Rogue

chapter Eight: Zoey and Declan



Fire shot through her. Zoey gasped and wrenched awake, hating the way the Professor woke her up.

“At least you’re not on the porch this time.”

She wiped her face and groaned, her head aching.

“Vikki’s got a mission tonight. You’re going with her,” he said pleasantly. “You need a hit?”

She held out her hand wordlessly. His magic ripped through her again, soothing the hangover. Zoey opened her eyes. It was after dark. The overhead light was on, and the room filled with all her boxes that Eric had packed for her.

The sight depressed her. Eric wouldn’t have brought them over if he was considering giving her a second chance.

“Didn’t we just get poisoned?” she asked, groggy.

“You need another one.” Her guardian touched her again.

The third one did the trick. Her head cleared. Zoey swung her legs off the bed.

“If I was left on your front porch, does that mean my soul-mate knows where I live?” The words flew out of her mouth.

“Oh, did something convince you I might be telling you the truth?” the Professor asked.

“I figured my luck has gone to shit. I might as well listen to you,” she retorted. “I’m going to sleep armed from here on out.”

“On the topic of weapons: Take extras tonight. Dimitri thinks there will be five or six.”

She watched the Professor leave. He started whistling. How the old man was so cheerful, she didn’t know. She suspected he was happy she was there. Body pulsing with magic, she dressed quickly in clubbing clothes and checked her phone. Messages from Vikki, but none from Eric.

Nothing but her boxes. Dismayed, she didn’t let herself linger in the room. She used to love her small room at the Professor’s. It was the size of a closet, on the side of the house that never had direct sunlight, and fitted with the only feminine furniture and colors in the house. It was like a Barbie doll’s room. The last person to be considered girly, Zoey had always loved this room, because the Professor went to such trouble to make it different from the rest of the house.

She finished getting ready and hid the journal in one of the boxes before going down the stairs.

“Extra weapons?” the Professor asked.

She glanced up, not expecting to see him at the door to see her off. She did a mental check of her arsenal.

“Yep. Got everything I need and extras. I’ll kick ass.”

“I expect nothing less. I’m too old to wait up for you, but our channel is open. If you need help, signal me,” he said. “Stay sober tonight.”

She nodded. They both knew she had no intention of obeying. Her mood felt brittle as she stepped onto the porch. She hadn’t been able to rid herself of the sex energy from the previous night. It made her skin overly sensitive to the brush of clothing, to the point her nipples ached and she considered propositioning the Professor, who knew a helluva lot about sex after being alive for so long. He aged gracefully as well, and his mannerisms were always gentlemanly. He’d be the perfect way to take off her edge, if he weren’t forbidden from sleeping around.

Combined with her dread about facing Vikki after reading the journal and the inkling Eric was serious about kicking her out, Zoey was a train wreck waiting for impact.

Vikki’s car was idling out front. Zoey waved over her head, knowing the Professor was watching like a disapproving father whose daughter was rushing out to the club. She flung herself into Vikki’s car.

“You look terrific,” she said, startled.

Vikki glowed. Her sex energy seemed more powerful this night. Her eyes sparkled, and her face was bright. No football team ever put that look on Vikki’s face.

“I mean, considering we were both poisoned,” Zoey added with a hard swallow. This soul-mate shit was becoming too real, and the Professor never said whether or not Zoey’s knew where to find her.

“You look like shit,” Vikki replied.

“Rough couple of days. Eric kicked me out.”

“That’s what the Professor said. I’m so sorry, Zoey.” Vikki offered a small smile of support as she pulled onto the street.

“Nothing is going right.”

“Yeah, I get that. The IAB ransacked my room today.”

“Ugh. They leave your alcohol?”

Vikki laughed and nodded.

Zoey’s gaze lingered on her friend’s healthy features. She’d never seen Vikki so happy. Zoey felt horrible keeping secrets from her friend.

“Which club?” she asked.

“Same. It’s the new spot for them, apparently. I guess after they took us out last night, six of them showed up to cart off girls,” Vikki said grimly. “I’m under orders to drink bottled water tonight.”

“I can’t believe we were poisoned. It can’t be the bartender, can it?” Zoey asked, puzzled.

“I’m not sure. It’s the same guy who’s been there every time we go. I mean, maybe someone paid him off, but aren’t there easier ways to get rid of us? I mean, come on, we’re human. Sneak into our houses and slit our throats while we sleep?”

“Easy targets at a bar, I guess,” Zoey replied. “You’re right, though. I lived off campus with a human who posed no threat to anyone who tried to attack me.”

“Which begs the question: if they didn’t want us dead, what the f*ck were they doing?”

“It’s not the first night this week I’ve blacked out,” Zoey mused. “I had nothing to drink Friday night, after our mission. I don’t remember what happened. I was talking to Heidi and then … blank. I woke up on the Professor’s porch the next morning. I think I had a couple energy drinks, but they didn’t work.”

“They taste like shit, but they work so well,” Vikki said. “I never go on a mission without a couple.”

They made small talk all the way to the club. Zoey concentrated hard on not telling her best friend what she knew about her. She was grateful for the distraction of the crowd when they entered the club and went to the tables near the bar. All were full, so they crowded the bar instead.

Vikki ordered two bottled waters then made a face that elicited a laugh from Zoey. They leaned back against the bar to watch the people. Zoey sipped her water, trying to pretend it was something else.

“So, along with my vodka, did you steal my diary?”

Vikki’s casual question made Zoey spew the water in her mouth. She coughed. Vikki patted her back hard enough that Zoey knew she was pissed.

“Yeah,” Zoey managed finally.

“I figured. Not sure whether to thank you or…” Vikki searched her face.

“What makes you think I read it?” Zoey tried to be casual.

“Because you can’t lie for shit.”

Sighing, Zoey met her gaze. “Dude, what do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say you didn’t turn it over to the IAB. And then, I want you to say you did, because if you didn’t, it means I’ll drag you down with me.”

“I didn’t,” Zoey said. “You know me. There are only a few people I trust and care about. I’m not going to turn on you.”

“You may not have a choice if the Enforcers summon you.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re too stupid for your own good sometimes,” Vikki said, irritated. “I have a way out of this. You don’t, so don’t do anything stupid.”

“Liam is the way out?”

“Yeah.”

“But you won’t take it,” Zoey guessed. “If they take you out, I’m going, too.”

They gazed at each other, each in pain. Zoey flung her arms around Vikki, not wanting to lose her friend.

“You fool,” Vikki murmured, hugging her back. “You would sacrifice yourself for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Duh. My plan is to piss them off enough, they kill me fast.”

Vikki laughed. “If anyone could do it, you could. The Professor will protect you. You’re like a daughter to him, and he’s in real good with the Incubatti. My guardian, Dimitri?” she shook her head as she pulled away. “He’ll be happy to see me go.”

“What a dick.”

“What about Eric? Any chance he’ll take you back?”

Zoey said nothing. She turned to the bartender and waved him down.

“I take it that’s a no. Didn’t I tell you so?” Vikki asked.

“I don’t fit in. I want to be normal.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

“Two vodka-cranberry and four shots of tequila,” Zoey told the bartender.

“I’m on water tonight,” Vikki said firmly.

“No way.”

“Way.”

“Whose orders?” Zoey asked, eyes narrowing. “You don’t give a shit what Dimitri says.”

“Yeah, well, a soul-mate is a whole different ballgame,” Vikki said.

Zoey studied her, wanting to ask questions, but terrified of the answers. The less she acknowledged the Professor’s words, the more she could deny the idea that some strange Incubus was going to knock at her door and demand to marry her.

The drinks came. Zoey waited ten minutes for Vikki to crack.

“You’re serious,” she said at last, incredulous. What did it take to keep someone like her from alcohol when the drinks sat in front of her? She loved the Professor and still couldn’t resist.

“You have no idea.” Vikki said with a shake of her head. “You were mostly sober last night. Doesn’t it feel weird? Like, this place is annoying.”

Zoey laughed. “Yeah. Wait ‘til you go to kill one. You know, my aim is so much better when I’m sober.” She chewed her lip, humor fading. “Vikki, if you can’t drink alcohol, can you still … you know. Go out with me on unscheduled missions?”

“Absolutely.” Vikki leaned forward. “Zoey, no matter what happens, we have a plan. It’s a good one. The f*cked up rules the Sucubatti make us follow only let more people die. We have the power to stop it.”

“What about Liam?”

Vikki hesitated. “Well, I kinda told him.”

“You what?”

“He’s okay with it,” Vikki said, troubled. “For now. Something is up. I can’t figure it out, and he’s not sharing.”

“Why’d you tell him? It’s supposed to be our secret,” Zoey said, upset.

“Zoey, he reads my mind. It’s not like I can hide things with someone else in my head.”

Irritated, Zoey began to wonder if the final piece of her life was being destroyed. How could they run a secret Cambion-killing group, if the enemy knew about it? She started drinking the untouched alcohol in front of Vikki.

“It’s not that bad,” Vikki said.

“Yeah, it is. Everything’s gone to shit.”

“Any room at your pity party for me?” Vikki giggled. “I’ll be back. Running to the restroom.”

Zoey lifted her drink in acknowledgment and watched her friend weave her way through the crowds. The beverage was halfway to her mouth when she felt it. She froze.

An Incubus was in the club. She tried to ignore him, aware of their rules of engagement that forbade Halflings from having anything to do with the full-blooded bastards. Unlike the Incubuses she occasionally crossed paths with in clubs, this one didn’t want to be ignored.

If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was purposely summoning her.



Declan used his magic to nudge the two blonde models occupying the table in the corner out of their seats. He settled on a barstool at the newly abandoned table, gaze seeking out the woman he sought. The two girls whose table he stole huddled together a couple of steps away, staring at him for a long moment, before they started towards him with familiar fire in their eyes. He sent them away with a flare of magic and waited.

His soul-mate’s shoulders were hunched. She sensed him the same way he did her: strong enough to cause alarm. Only she didn’t know why; she was out when he touched her last night. Dressed in a slinky maroon dress and four inch heels, she was even more gorgeous awake. Her aura was stronger than any Hunter’s he had ever seen. Based on the additional research he did this day, she was the most lethal Hunter in the Sucubatti, and she was armed with more than sex energy. While he understood why, he eyed the subtle placement of her weapons with disapproval.

Incubatti didn’t use weapons. Period. It was a tasteless display of power that the Sucubatti were known for. She’d have to learn that rule quickly, if she was going to fit in.

She was fighting him already. He released more of his magic, enough that she jerked visibly at the silent summons.

Declan watched her maneuver through the crowd. Her step was sure, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the club, her understated make-up rendering her striking. She had blue eyes, and he found himself trying to define their color. It was between ocean blue and the night sky, just before sunset, an intriguing hue that matched the contradiction she was. Angelic features nonetheless held a wild woman with a disciplinary record that appalled him. Her curls were captured in a clip at the top of her head, except for one that bounced against a gold-tinted cheek.

She stopped on the other side of the table, wariness in her gaze.

“Do I know you?” she asked.

“Is that your best pick-up line?” he returned. “We can start over, if you’d like.”

She pursed her full lips together in reluctant amusement while drawing a knife under the cover of the table. She was assessing him. From what he knew, she was not the kind who hesitated to strike. She sensed their shared destiny without knowing that’s what made her pause.

“You want to hear my favorite?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Nice shoes. Wanna f*ck?”

“I like it,” Declan smiled “and yes, I do.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t f*ck your kind,” she replied.

“You will before the night is over.”

Interest and suspicion crossed her features. If she had an inkling she stood before her soul-mate, she didn’t show any sign she recognized him.

“I came with a couple of messages for you,” he started and leaned forward.

“I’ll take the bait,” she said mockingly and mirrored his movement. She drew closer, holding his gaze in a way that made his blood heat.

“First, don’t draw your weapon on me,” he said.

“F*ck you.” She said and drew another; one she held inside her wrist in plain sight and the other in the hand below the table.

“That better be an invitation.”

“It wasn’t.”

He released a small trickle of power. Her face flushed, her pupils dilating in response. She didn’t back down. In fact, she circled the table and stopped beside him, staring directly into his gaze with open challenge.

“You have rules about hurting me. I have none about hurting you,” she whispered. “You sure you want to throw down with me right here?”

“I’ll consider it foreplay.”

Declan wasn’t intimidated by the lethal vixen in front of him; he was totally turned on. He didn’t expect a wild animal like this one would make his blood burn hotter. He entered the club expecting to collar and drag out someone he was determined wouldn’t stir his interest. Instead, he found himself caught up in her blue eyes and the back-and-forth of their sex energy in the air between them. She was tugging at his then releasing it back at him in an attempt to influence him.

“I only need one strike to end your life.”

“If you wanted me dead, you wouldn’t be talking to me.” He smiled. “You have no idea who I am.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to see if I could kill an Incubus.”

“I’ll give you a chance tonight, before I f*ck you.”

“No deal, jackass. You can f*ck yourself, though.”

Declan touched her then. He let the fingers of one hand trail down her arm lightly then gripped her wrist while his other hand rested possessively at her neck. His thumb slid across her full lips once, twice.

Zoey didn’t move. She tensed at his touch, but it wasn’t the tension of a warrior about to strike. Confusion crossed her features. The direct contact of their skin eased his discomfort, but he wasn’t as considerate with her. He let his magic tease her from the inside out. The images in his mind were carried across to hers through his touch and magic.

Her eyes went to his mouth as vivid images filled her mind, fed by his sex energy.

Teeth grazing her nipple before he took it into his mouth and teased it into a hard bud. Hot kisses trailed down her stomach. Gently separating the petals of her sex with his fingers so he could give a long, hard stroke of his tongue against the aching bud hidden between them.

Zoey shuddered. Her gaze took on a dreamy quality.

“Now that I have your attention,” Declan continued in a low voice. “I came with a warning. You’re going to be outmanned by Cambions tonight. You may want to leave, before you end up in trouble.”

With effort, she shifted away from his touch and shook her head. The sharpness returned to her blue eyes.

“I kill Cambions for a living. There’s no such thing as something I can’t handle,” she replied.

“You really think so?”

“I know so.”

“Alright. I’ll make you a bet. If you get in over your head tonight, and I have to interfere, you f*ck me. If you don’t, you don’t,” he said casually.

“You interfere?” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll take that bet any day of the week.”

“Then we have a deal,” he said. “I promise to be gentle, the first time at least.”

“I can handle the Cambions, and I can handle someone like you,” she replied.

“Then go fight, my little kitten. We’ll see what happens.” He smiled, satisfied with the deal.

“Believe it or not, I can fight pretty damn well.”

“We’ll see.”

“We have met, haven’t we,” she said with more conviction.

“Not officially.”

“I’m sorry you’ll have to find a new girl for your bed tonight,” she said. “It’s a shame. Your accent is sexy as hell.” She winked.

“Trust me. You’ll have your chance soon enough.”

With a shake of her head, she whirled and walked away from him, her hips and ass sashaying in a way that made him sweat.

Declan almost laughed in surprise. No one had ever spoken to him – or probably any Incubus – like this! He thought a spirited soul-mate was going to repulse him, because she was the opposite of the discipline and training he’d been drilled in since he was young. Instead, she made him want her bad.

His attention was snagged by the gathering of Cambions outside the club. He couldn’t stay here and interfere in what happened. After all, if he scared them off, Zoey wasn’t going to lose their bet.

Declan reached the hallway leading to the rear exit and then paused. There weren’t a couple dozen Cambions. Their numbers were closer to a hundred. Paul, the leader of the Cambions now seated on the Incubatti Council, was taking no chance of allowing the girls to escape this trap.

Declan pushed the door open and stepped into the back alley. It was cold and smelly. He gazed around. The alley was clear of Cambions; the bulk of them were waiting in the buildings on either side of the club. The club was surrounded on three sides by alleys, one of which was blocked. By the scent of cement in the air, it had recently been blocked off. It made him suspicious, especially after finding Zoey unconscious outside a club the other night. Was this a set-up of some sort? After all, the two girls in the club were two of the top three most wanted Cambion killers.

Declan gathered his magic and leapt on top of the building, sensing he was going to be needed shortly.



Zoey struggled to clear her mind of the Incubus’s strange magic. It almost seemed like she was stuck in his grip, as if his magic had dug its claws into her and wasn’t letting go. The ache between her legs made it hard for her to walk straight.

He touched her with the assured familiarity of a man who knew he wasn’t going to be rejected. Worse, her body responded with yearning unlike anything she’d ever felt. Like she was his or something. The interaction left her rattled and battling the sex energy that craved the touch of some stranger who seemed to be able to see straight through her. The images of how he’d pleasure her in bed turned her thoughts into confetti in a stiff wind.

Whiskey-hued eyes flecked with green, light brown hair, chiseled features, a body he clearly took care of and expensive clothing. He was quietly confident with a presence that blew her away and a low, husky voice that made her breath quicken. The instincts bred to be sensitive to sex energy were quivering at the depth of his power. He’d let her pull his magic, fully aware she couldn’t influence him, even if she soaked up everything he had.

Zoey didn’t like that at all.

She tried to shake it off and was grateful when Vikki returned. She didn’t have time to tell her friend about the strange interaction before they both turned towards the door, sensing the Cambions. Zoey tossed back another two shots of tequila to clear her head and waited to see who entered.

“Vikki, that’s more than five,” she said, counting. “There’s a dozen.”

Vikki looked surprised. “Dimitri said our intel indicated maybe five. I’m thinking they brought reinforcements, since we’ve figured out where they’re going.”

“We can do it,” Zoey said, thoughts on the bet she made with a random Incubus. “I’m up for it. God, I need this.”

“We probably can. I’m calling for back-up on this one, just in case.” Vikki pulled her phone free and texted someone quickly. “How many do you think you can take?”

“I’ve done six at once.”

“I bet I can do seven.”

Zoey held out her hand at the bet. As the top two Hunters, they were always competing. Alcohol was out for tonight, but killing wasn’t.

“Okay, plan of attack.”

“If we each take half, I bet we can take them,” Zoey considered. Their sex energy reached her. With one or two, the effect was gradual. With a dozen, it was immediate. The magic lit her blood on fire and fed her tumbling emotions. Zoey wanted them all dead. Now.

“We’ve got two alleys.” Vikki assessed. “You take one, I take the other?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Zoey stretched up and loosened her dark curls, letting them cascade around her bare shoulders. Vikki grinned, her eyes lit with the same fire Zoey felt. They could project the magic to radiate the same sort of sex appeal that drew the girls to the Incubuses.

“I’ll go first,” Zoey said. She drew a deep breath and tested the magic in her blood. Killing the bastards there to prey on innocent women was a perfect release, especially after the weird attraction she felt to the sexy Incubus who somehow managed to prevent his own death with a smile.

“I’ll wait five minutes then go,” Vikki said. “Good luck. Meet up at IHOP?”

Zoey nodded. They bumped fists, and she stepped away. Zoey waited until she was closer to push the magic out of her body. She walked towards the group with the steady pace of a confident seductress, unafraid. They sensed her before she reached them.

Ignoring them, she wound through them at a pace that allowed her to commandeer their senses. When she’d reached the one closest to the door, she faced them and smiled. Those nearest her started forward. Zoey danced out of their reach and paced to the door and into the street. Certain to stay a few steps ahead of the few she’d drawn out of the club, she went to the alley where she’d kill the Cambion the night before, recalling how good the lighting was.

Looking up at the lights, she didn’t realize the other end of the alley was sealed off until she’d walked halfway down it. Surprise then irritation filled her. The same city that waited three months to fill a pothole had built a wall in her alley overnight?

Rather than backtrack, she turned to face those that followed, waving for them to approach as she took slow steps back. When they were all in the alley, she stopped. She’d drawn six, which meant neither she nor Vikki would win the bet this night.

“Who’s first?’ she asked.

“Definitely me,” the nearest said, closing the distance.

She let him grab her and pull her against him. His kiss ratcheted up the sex energy in her blood as he tried to use his to seduce her. She siphoned off his magic, preparing to use it against him. Zoey responded hard, her need real, while her right hand went for the dagger strapped to her thigh. Another Cambion moved behind her, nipping her neck while his hands traveled over her body. She groaned, enjoying the sensations and grateful not to be drunk. For the second night, she felt what was happening – and it was a damn good distraction to the mess in her mind.

With some reluctance, she positioned herself for a two-strike kill. She slid her hand up to the face of the guy kissing her. A simple flick of her wrist, and his throat was slit by the thin blade. He dropped, clutching at the wound. Zoey slammed her elbow into the face of the one behind her then slashed. The first caught the side of his face. The second slid across his neck.

“Who’s next?” High off their sex energy, she whipped out her second knife and faced the four remaining. By the looks on their faces, they hadn’t yet figured out what happened.

She clicked her heels together to engage the blades in her shoes, balanced on the balls of her feet then let loose a side kick that smashed the four-inch-titanium-reinforced blade of her high heels into the chest of the next nearest. The spandex dress did as Chrissy claimed it would, easily adjusting with her movements.

Absently, she couldn’t help thinking she wanted to call Chrissy after all when this was over. Chrissy was an extraordinary human; Zoey wanted to know what else she had up her sleeve.

One of the Cambions snatched her, and she spun, smashing her other heel into the leg of a fourth. Knives flashing, she took down another two before they’d managed to form a cohesive response to her.

Facing the remaining two, she beckoned them forward. They hesitated, and then turned to leave. Placing one knife between her teeth, Zoey pulled throwing knives from her bra and flung them one at a time. It was easier to aim when she wasn’t drunk. Her marks both fell flat on their faces.

Six down. And it was easy. She began to think the Professor was onto something when he told her to fight sober. She strode forward and plucked her throwing knives free, wiped the blood off, then replaced all her weapons.

She froze, sensing the Cambion behind her.

“Impressive.”

Zoey turned to look at him. He was older than the average Cambion, in his late twenties or early thirties, with one blue eye and one brown eye. Cautious and lean, he looked like more of a challenge than the normal Cambion, too.

“You’re more than we expected,” he said. “You can take down six without breaking a sweat. What’s your max?”

“Max? No idea,” she said. “But you’re welcome to be next.”

She saw a few more ease out of the doorway in the alley. Zoey faced them. The soft footfall from the mouth of the alley drew her attention. She turned her head, engaging her senses. Nine more, maybe ten, she guessed before returning her focus forward.

The five in front of her turned to ten. Then fifteen. Then more than she cared to count.

“Scared yet?” the man who addressed her smiled.

“Never.”

“Even knowing what we’ll do to you?”

“I’ll slit my own throat first,” she replied with a shrug. “You want a kiss before you die? That offer goes to all of you!” She turned, projecting the sex energy. “Free kiss. No returns or refunds.”

The younger ones fell for it. She saw the two compelled towards her from the mouth of the alley and waited. They were as enamored as the girls they killed. She let the first kiss her before letting her blades fly. Two more approached. All of them were trying to use their sex energy on her, unaware that it fed her ability to fight them. She reveled in it.

“Ten,” she counted. “Anyone have a pool going?”

“I said twenty,” the Cambion with the mismatched eyes said.

“What’s the prize?” she asked.

“Whoever wins gets to f*ck you first.”

“Nice.” She stretched her neck then placed her hair in a bun to keep it from interfering with her line of sight. “You waiting for more backup? Or can we start?”

“Arrogant little bitch. I’m gonna enjoy what we do to you,” he snarled.

“M’kay. Ready, set, go.”

They couldn’t all attack, not with the confines of the narrow alley. It was a boon for her; she was good at maneuvering in small spaces. Cambions weren’t known for coordinating attacks. Gathering sex energy was a solitary pursuit. In the narrow alley, they’d get in each others’ ways, trip one another, and stack up easily so she could take them one or two or three at a time. She mentally drew the box she wanted to work within, one that included the dumpsters to help guide the traffic.

It was going to be a much better night than last night, she admitted ruefully, especially if she came away beating Vikki.

The Cambions attacked, four from each side. They were cautious in their approach, nervous. She loved that feeling in her enemies, the ones who knew they were going to get their heads cracked open, just not how or when exactly. Zoey let the magic build within her. She flung her head back, intoxicated by the sensations. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to her instincts.

What made her good wasn’t what the Professor said. True, she was ruthless and never hesitated. But she did what only Vikki did: she let her magic and her senses guide her.

Zoey fought. Slashing, stabbing, kicking, punching. She sized and lined them up to minimize the amount she faced at once then played them against each other. Evading rather than blocking, she twisted, ducked, danced through blades, fists and kicks that would knock her out if they landed. Relishing the release, she absorbed the sex energy of the Cambions and turned it against them, using it to scatter their senses and misdirect their strikes. Her aim was flawless, her evasive maneuvers performed with agility the Cambions were unable to match.

She slammed the blade of her heel into the last of her attackers and whirled, sensing a blade. She twisted too late. The thrown weapon buried itself to the hilt into her side. With a gasp, she looked up to see the Cambion with mismatched eyes straightening from his throw.

Zoey wrenched the knife free and tossed it, ignoring the blood that streamed down her thigh and leg to the ground. She assessed the damage she’d done. Fourteen had charged. Ten fell and, the other four were retreating uneasily. Silently, she added how many she killed, so she remembered to tell Vikki.

Both ends of the alley were jammed.

“That black blood is coming from your liver. You’ll bleed out in under ten minutes,” the Cambion said.

“Then you better hurry up and face me,” she replied.

“Fool,” he muttered then waved to the Cambions. “Bring her in.” Assured she was taken care of, the Cambion leader disappeared into the building, just as the next wave of attackers reached her.

Zoey fought hard. For every one she killed, two replaced him. Her agility was all but halted, limiting her ability to outmaneuver them. Her body grew slower to respond fast as she bled out. Zoey struggled to stay focused. She failed to outmaneuver more than one blade. One sliced through her cheek and another through her arm. She sucked up the sex energy and propelled it outward, causing her enemies to falter, even as her own body began to betray her.

She dropped to her knees and forced herself up, lightheaded. She slashed another one down. She heard a sound behind her, like someone landing on their feet, possibly after leaping off one of the buildings. She whirled to slash the head off whatever Cambion was ambushing her. Her wrist was caught, and the familiar fire of an Incubus tore through her. The pain in her side disappeared.

The Cambions around her stepped back in unison.

“Save it for later,” the Incubus from the corner of the club said, his light eyes glowing. “Take a look around.” His low, silky voice caused her to shiver.

She barely heard him through the buzz of her ears. He released her and stepped back cautiously. When she didn’t attack, he lifted his chin in silent command for her to do as he said.

There were a hundred of the half-Incubuses. She twisted all the way around to observe them then glanced down at the black blood coming from her side. For the first time in her life, she began to think she was in over her head. If not for the wound that made her dizzy and nauseous, she might stand a chance.

“About our bet,” the Incubus said.

Irritated, Zoey faced him. He was tall, wide of shoulder and lean, dressed as if he’d been out for the evening when he happened upon her. His magic was restrained but powerful, far stronger than even the Professor’s. She inched away as it washed over her. Reserved and cool, the Incubus appeared unconcerned at being in an alley crammed full of Cambions – and one Hunter.

“Since when does an Incubus interfere in a fight between a Hunter and Cambions?” she challenged.

“I don’t have to,” he said. “I can watch them kill you.”

She wasn’t going to make it if he did. By the tone of his voice, he was more than willing to let her take her chances. If not for the dizzying effects of blood loss and his magic, she might wonder why he made a bet with her in the first place, if he was willing to watch her die. The thought gained no traction.

“I’ll admit this doesn’t look so good.” Zoey wiped the blood off her face with the back of one hand.

A trace of amusement crossed the Incubus’s features. He held her gaze, waiting.

“Son of a bitch,” she muttered at last. “Fine. You win. Double or nothing on the next one?”

“The next one,” he repeated, a smile tugging up one side of his mouth. “Reckless to challenge me for a second round, isn’t it?”

“I might not lose the second one,” she said. The strain of fighting while injured was making it hard for her not to weave. He was blurry, too, another sign she took as being bad.

“Very well. Double or nothing.”

The Incubus faced the Cambions and motioned them away. After a brief hesitation, the Cambions disappeared inside the building. Extending her senses, Zoey was unable to determine whether the Incubus remaining in the alley with her was a threat or not. Disoriented from blood loss, she gripped a knife.

The Cambions were gone, leaving her with the Incubus. He was a few feet away, waiting for her.

“C’mon,” she said, unafraid. “Take your shot. You only get one before I take your head off.”

“I have a better deal.” He stepped towards her fearlessly. She found herself enthralled by the rhythm of his Southern drawl.

Zoey stood her ground. She raised the knife. He met her extended arm, unconcerned with the knife she pressed to his neck. At the impact of their skin, she almost dropped to her knees. Lightening tore through her and with it, the uncanny sense they were somehow connected. It stopped her from sliding the knife across his neck as she had the necks of so many others.

The Incubus couldn’t know that and yet wasn’t afraid of her. It was freaking her out.

“Double or nothing: you won’t make it to dawn, if I don’t heal you.”

“I didn’t ask you to help,” she replied.

“Last night was a freebie. I don’t like not getting paid,” he said, once again touching her face like she was already his.

His magic swept through her. She gasped. He backed her into the wall, the weapon at his neck. Gazing up at him, she was unable to shake the images from earlier, those of him using his mouth to take her to orgasm.

“You can bleed out here or you can pay my price,” he added. “Two nights with me.”

Fear trickled through her for the first time at his calm. He meant every word. She could see him standing there, watching her die.

She tried hard to focus on him. Blood loss and his magic clouded everything. He moved closer. She pushed him back, too weak to drive him far. Zoey pulled free her other knife. He snatched her wrist and pinned it against the wall.

His whiskey eyes flashed with something dangerous, something even she knew to fear.

“First things first.” His husky voice was lethal. “Rule number one: Never draw your weapons on me again.” He gripped the wrist holding the dagger to his neck and pinned it above her head. He leaned into her. The contact made tunnel vision form. His proximity was enough to overwhelm her muddled senses. She tugged at his sex energy, trying to stay afloat. As before, he didn’t try to block her.

“Understand?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied.

He removed the weapons from her hands and tossed them without breaking contact. She was fading fast. She felt her body giving out.

“You can die. Or you can f*ck me,” he said. “You won’t make it five minutes, let alone until dawn.”

She swallowed hard, the darkness around the edges of her mind closing in on her.

“Choose.”

“You win. I’ll f*ck you,” she murmured.

“Good choice.” He pressed a hand to the wound.

Zoey groaned and leaned into him. Her eyes closed, the darkness swallowing her.