…
By subtlety, Sam meant charm. And by charm, she meant trying to flirt the information out of the manager. We’d sought out the manager’s office, deep in the back of the park, and she’d gone to work.
“So let me get this straight,” the manager, whose name was Paul, said as he eyed her. “You want me to give you an employee’s home address?”
“I do,” Sam replied with a smile.
“And why would I do that?”
“Because I’m asking nicely?” She batted her eyes and flashed him a killer smile. If the guy didn’t melt right then and there, he wasn’t fucking human. She placed both hands on his desk and leaned forward. Not enough to give the bastard a bird’s eye view, but enough to catch the interest of any living, breathing heterosexual male. “Please? It’s really important that I find her.”
Interest sparked in Paul’s eyes. A burst of orange seeped from his shoulders. “Is that right? How important is it?”
“Very. You’d be doing me a huge favor.” I couldn’t see her face, but I could picture her expression—eyes hooded and smile wide, maybe even chewing on the corner of her lip. God. I fucking loved when she did that.
“So you’d owe me?” The orange cloud around him thickened with potent lust, and he shifted from foot to foot as he subtly adjusted himself. Fucking scum bag. Azi and I were in total agreement for once. If there weren’t other, more pressing matters on the plate now, this guy would get the beat down of his life. “Tell me…what would you be willing to do for that address?”
I couldn’t see her face, but I hoped Sam was able to disguise the disgust I felt rolling off her in waves. “Dunno. What’d ya have in mind? Maybe dinner? We could get to know each other.”
The lecherous grin he tossed her lit my insides on fire—and not in a good way.
Paul snorted. “Blow me.” He opened the top drawer of his desk and handed her his cell phone. “Record it.”
“You want me to suck your dick so you’ll give me an address?” The shock in her voice was overshadowed only by the rage of her colors.
Azi balled my fists and made a move to stalk forward.
Don’t. He’s not going to fucking touch her. She’d kill him first.
The demon stilled, but its rage didn’t subside. Sam took the phone. The thick red that bled into the air around her head and shoulders nearly blotted out everything else in the room. She turned and held the phone out to Azi.
“No,” Paul said. “You record. He blows.”
Sam straightened. If at all possible, the red grew thicker. “I don’t think you’re really his type.”
“Actually…” Azi said. If our positions had been reversed, it would have sent me a plethora of images—my fists brutally pummeling this asshole’s face until there was nothing left but pulp and bone. The demon inhaled deeply and took in Paul’s lust right along with Sam’s rage. The sensation was heady, and a blanket of contentment settled over both of us. The demon hadn’t fed on this powerful a bouquet of emotion in weeks. Unfortunately, it didn’t last. The demon wanted more. And this time, I had no intention of trying to stop it. We’d had an unspoken agreement to feed on only the scum of the earth. Paul fit the bill perfectly. “Paul is exactly my type.”
Azi dropped the cell phone on the chair and propelled my body over the desk. The demon had Paul by the throat before my feet even touched the ground. With a fluid move, Azi spun the bastard against the wall and squeezed until he was gasping and sputtering for air.
“You are the perfect example of why my race despises mankind. You are filthy and low, disguising your darkness while attempting to hide in the light.” The demon lifted Paul off the ground and took in his fear. It filled me, making every limb tingle and warm. “You are little more than cockroaches, scurrying through the muck, biding time until you expire.”
“Jesus,” Sam said in a whisper.
Azi turned to her. I’d assumed she was freaking because of Azi’s manhandling, but that wasn’t it. She was scrolling through the bastard’s cell.
“I know I’m generally against the whole violence thing, but this guy is something else.” She lifted her head and fixed her gaze on him, judging and furious. “His phone is full of pictures of him and employees. Men and women. And judging by the looks of most of their faces, they weren’t eager participants.”
Azi turned its attention back to the manager. “The girl’s address. Now.”
Paul sputtered and clawed at my hands. With a sigh, Azi set him down, but didn’t let go. “My cell—list of employee—”
Sam went back to the cell and started searching. After a minute, she let go of a growl. “What is her name? The girl who works in the Haunted House?”
“Sv—Sa—Savannah Ggg—”
“Got it!” Sam exclaimed a few moments later. “There’s only one Savannah in here. Assuming that’s the girl that works at the Haunted House?”