Instantly, my reflection changed. The black mask of eye makeup concealed a third of my face, and my lips turned a brilliant scarlet. My hair rose up into a high bouffant that was almost comical but was definitely sexy.

  As they said in Texas, ‘the higher the hair, the closer to God.’ I didn’t believe in God and he certainly didn’t believe in me, but that was beside the point.

  For good measure, I did my clothes too. Earlier that night, I’d been dressed in my black fight wear—tactical clothes that were practical and tough.

  But this guy…

  He must be here for some Blood Sorcery, and I had a very specific look for that.

  My black silk robe turned into a midnight gown with long, tight sleeves and a slim silhouette that went all the way to my feet. The bodice plunged in such a deep V that most of my breasts were on display.

  The last thing I added were shoes. Five-inch spikes that made me tower just over six feet.

  I grinned, a catlike smile that was cold and just a bit cruel.

  Perfect.

  No one really looked at you when you were dressed like Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. They were too distracted by the makeup and the hair and the tits. I could walk right by my old family and they’d never recognize me as the frightened, abused girl I’d once been. Aeri had a disguise, too, but it was more sophisticated ice princess to my midnight whore.

  I turned to the door and drew in a breath, then swung it open.

  The man’s eyes widened just briefly, flicking subtly from my face to my chest. But he had manners and a smoothness about him that made the gesture almost invisible. Even so, it felt like a caress. I swallowed hard and met his eyes.

  There was silence for the briefest moment, and we did what every supernatural does when meeting for the first time.

  We sized each other up.

  Every supernatural possessed a magical signature that corresponded to one of the five senses. Powerful beings had more than one signature. The strongest ones had all five.

  Like me.

  But I kept those on the down low, controlling them so others couldn’t sense how powerful I really was.

  This guy was doing the same.

  I got a hint of the sound of wind whistling through trees and the taste of honey, but I could feel him protecting the rest of his magical signatures. I had a good sense for things like that—a natural gift—and he was hiding his power.

  Probably a lot of it.

  So what the hell was he?

  My gaze flicked up to his face to find that he was still looking at me.

  “We’re closed,” I said.

  “Then why did you open the door?”

  “To tell you to your face that I will gleefully eviscerate you if you don’t stop knocking.” I smiled sweetly.

  “You do know the way to a man’s heart.”

  “Oh?”

  “Lead with force. I like it.” His smile was cold, but honest.

  I frowned. Most men quailed under my threats. Not this one, though. He almost seemed like he was flirting. In an icy way.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “What are you?”

  “I’d like to be a client of yours. Mordaca?”

  I inclined my head, acknowledging my full name. Only Aeri called me Mari. Mordaca was my public name, just like Aerdeca was hers.

  I kept my gaze trained on his despite the faint discomfort of it. It felt like he could see into my soul, and I didn't like it. “Answer the question. I’m not letting you in here until I know what you are.” The last thing I needed was a damn incubus in the house. “And tell me why you’re here.”

  “I’m an elemental mage. Ice and fire.”

  “No, you’re not. Your magic is too powerful.”

  He frowned, as if annoyed I’d figured him out.

  “I can tell you’re suppressing it.” I tilted my head, studying him. He stood close enough that I had to bend my neck to look into his eyes. Even with my heels and impressive height, he was still bigger than me. He had to be a good six inches over six feet, with enough tightly coiled strength that he’d be good in a fight. Really good.

  “And I can tell that you’re suppressing yours.”

  “Takes one to know one, I suppose.” I crossed my arms. We were at a stalemate. Two supernaturals hiding what they were and what they wanted.

  Well, he was hiding what he wanted. I’d already told him I wanted him gone.

  But now he’d piqued my curiosity.

  I reached out and touched his shoulder, my movements quick as a snake’s. My Dragon Blood gave me superior strength and speed. Combined with my natural ability to sense magic, I was able to get a feel for his true power.

  I gasped.

  The force of his magic bowled into me like a freight train. In a fraction of a second, I processed it all. His power sounded like wind roaring through trees and felt like the caress of the ocean. It smelled like an autumn day, crisp and fresh. The taste of honey exploded more powerfully on my tongue, along with the bite of something else. Something almost like a liqueur. He even had an aura—a deep green glow like the forest at midnight.

  Before I could withdraw my hand, he surged forward and gripped my throat, pressing me against the wall. His touch was gentle but utterly immovable. My heart spiked into my throat.

  He loomed over me, nearly blocking out the morning light from outside, his brow lowered. “You dare to touch?”

  Yes, he was dangerous.

  Fear, anger, and desire coiled within me.

  I shoved them aside and drew a black obsidian dagger from the ether. The spell required to store weapons in the air was expensive, but worth it in scenarios like this.

  I pressed the sharp blade to the base of his throat, making sure that the tip pierced the skin just slightly. Enough that a drop of blood welled. “Let me go.”

  He frowned briefly, as if surprised by me. Again, I was struck by his ethereal beauty. Intensely masculine, but otherworldly somehow. He was unique. Totally, completely unlike any man I’d ever met.

  He was the kind of guy who wouldn’t get a drop of blood on his impeccable suit as he slipped a blade between your ribs. But slip that blade, he would. I could recognize my own kind, after all.

  It was impossible not to notice how close he was standing. Not a single inch of his body touched mine other than his hand, gently pressing against my throat. But I felt the heat of him burning through the two inches of empty space, straight into me. It was like an invisible wire connecting us, twisting tighter as the seconds ticked past.

  He was dangerous. He was hot.

  I’m an idiot.

  The corner of his mouth kicked up in a smile. “Yes, I do think I like you.”

  Okay, not what I expected.

  “Let me go.” I pushed the blade a bit deeper.

  Somehow, the tension between us only increased. The threat of danger, yes. But also attraction. My breathing grew shallow. I pushed the blade a little bit harder.

  He let go of me and stepped back, straightening his immaculate suit coat. “My apologies. I’m not used to…” He searched for a word, and again, I wondered who the hell he was. “People.”

  “People? Everyone is used to people.”

  “Hmm.”

  “We’ll just ignore that weirdness and move on, shall we? I need my beauty sleep, and it’s getting late. What do you want?”

  “I need a spell. Blood magic. My sources say that you and your sister are the best.”

  “We are, but we don’t work for just anyone.”

  “I need an amplifying charm. The strongest one you can make.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  “My reasons are my own.”

  My mind raced. What kind of magic did he want to make stronger with an amplifying charm? They were difficult to create and required extremely rare ingredients. Therefore they were expensive. Very.

  “You can’t afford it,” I said.

  He smiled, all lethal elegance. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

  “Fine. Two hundred thousand dollars.”

  “How about four hundred thousand and you make it right now?”

  I resisted raising my brows, but it was difficult. Aeri and I did well in our Blood Sorcery business—this side gig was how we earned most of our money, since the demon slaying was more a labor of love than profit—but I’d named a hefty fee and he’d upped it.

  I still didn’t know what he was, but that was a lot of money.

  “Cash?” I eyed his pockets. “I only take cash.”

  He reached into the pocket of his slim-cut trousers and withdrew a sparkling bracelet. Slender bands of silver twisted around huge, sparkling opals. They burned with fire from within.

  I’d never seen anything quite like it.

  He held it out, and I took it, stifling a gasp at the feel of the magic beneath my fingertips. These weren’t just any opals—they were enchanted fire opals, forged in ancient flames of magic.

  It was worth far more than four hundred grand. They were almost priceless.

  Did he know that?

  I looked up at him, catching the light of knowledge in his eyes.

  Yes, he knew it.

  And he was either too wealthy or too desperate to care.

  And I was too avaricious.

  Because I wanted these fire opals. I loved sparkly things. “Perhaps we can make this work. Won’t you come in?”

  “I’d be delighted.”

  As he stepped farther into the foyer, he seemed to fill the space with his sheer size. Now that I’d figured out his magic, he didn’t bother to keep quite as tight a rein on it. It swirled around me, my senses lighting up with the sound of wind and the caress of water. It was nearly overwhelming to stand near him. Especially with the memory of our weird, violent, sexy embrace still in my mind.

  I sucked in a careful breath. “Come this way.”

  As I turned to lead him to the workshop, I couldn’t help but feel like this moment was going to change my life forever. And probably not in a good way.

  3

  I walked quickly to my workshop, feeling the weight of his gaze on my back. Normally, I might ask the name of my client. In this case, I hadn’t even thought to. I’d been too distracted by his sheer presence. By how it impacted me.

  We stepped into the long room at the back of the house that was filled with the ingredients of my trade. Shelves were crowded with jewel-colored vials of potion that glittered and gleamed. Dozens of bowls and knives and specialty tools were stacked in neat piles. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, filling the room with scents of lavender and rosemary and sage, among other things that had no names but many uses.

  A long wooden table sat in the middle of the space, with two chairs pressed against the wall opposite the enormous hearth. It was quiet and cold now, so I strode to the mantel and took a tiny pinch of magical powder out of the bowl that sat in the middle. I tossed it into the hearth. Flames burst to life, bathing me in warmth.

  I could feel the man’s gaze on me as I worked, and I schooled my features into passive interest as I turned. “Well, are you ready to get started?”

  He stood by the door, his posture deceptively relaxed. I recognized that stance—it was the one warriors used when they were in unfamiliar places. Seemingly relaxed, but ready to fight.

  “I presumed you would be the one starting?” he said.

  “For the most part, but I’ll need a drop of your blood for this to really work.”

  He frowned, clearly displeased.

  “There’s no way around it. This is Blood Sorcery, after all.” I would use my own blood in the spell—it was immensely powerful—but I’d need his as well since he would be the one to wield the final charm.

  “Fine, then.” He took off his suit coat and draped it over one of the chairs. The dark gray shirt beneath looked to be just as expensive as the jacket, tailored to fit perfectly over his broad shoulders and taper to his narrow waist.

  I moved toward the shelves to gather my ingredients. This was dark magic when practiced without consent, which was why I lived in Darklane. If I’d taken his blood without his permission, I’d be fully on the side of evil. But if you practiced it with consent and with good intentions, you were fine.

  Try telling that to the government though.

  Like many of those who lived in Darklane, I walked the line between good and evil. Most were like me—not explicitly bad, but definitely iffy.

  Aeri and I toed the line of legality these days, primarily because we worked for the Council of Demon Slayers. And because we weren’t really interested in being assholes.

  I gathered a bowl and two small silver knives, along with four vials of potion —red, green, blue, and yellow. I returned to the table as the man was rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, revealing a powerful forearm.

  I laid the ingredients on the table. “What’s your name?”

  There was the briefest hesitation before he said, “Alexander.”

  “Hmm. You don’t seem like an Alexander.” I removed the stoppers from the vials and poured precise amounts of the potion into the bowl. The liquid sizzled and smoked upon contact, and I stirred it with one of the blades.

  “Do you do this work often?” he asked.

  “Are you trying to distract me from my question about your name?”

  He frowned at me. “I’m just interested in your work.”

  “No, you’re not.” I pointed to his eyes. “You can’t keep your eyes off this potion, and you just paid me an enormous sum for it. You need this. Badly. It’s the only thing you’re interested in.”

  He stepped closer, almost a prowl, until he stood so close I could smell the clean forest scent of him. Feel the faint heat of his skin. My heart pounded harder.

  He met my eyes, then his gaze dropped subtly to my breasts, which were spectacularly displayed by my dress. His voice lowered a bit, smooth honey. “I’d hardly say that’s true.”

  I raised my brows. “Me? You’re interested in me?”

  “Who wouldn’t be?”

  “Well, that’s true enough. I am amazing.” Though the sexual tension between us had been real, this wasn’t so much flirting as banter meant to distract. Flattery meant to drive me off my point. He was too smooth to stare pointedly at my breasts unless he wanted to throw me off. “But I’m not buying it.”

  “No?”

  “No.” I smiled at him, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “I’m also not stupid. If you want to keep it a secret so badly, I’m not going to pry. This is just business.”

  He gave me an appraising look, seeming to like what he found.

  “Now, will you please go get that silver knife?” I pointed to one that hung on the shelf.

  As he turned to retrieve it, I quickly sliced my fingertip with the blade that I held. Pain flared, which I kind of enjoyed because I was weird, and a drop of black blood dripped into the bowl. The liquid sizzled and smoked. The wound in my finger began to close immediately.

  The man returned with the knife and handed it to me.

  “Thank you.” I accepted the knife that I didn’t really need. I’d just wanted to distract him from my black blood, which definitely wasn’t standard. “Give me your wrist.”

  He held out his strong arm, holding it parallel with the bowl. I gripped his forearm, my breathing growing short at the feeling of his muscles beneath my palm.

  Energy zipped between us, an electric current that I’d never felt before. It lit up the magic inside me, making me shudder.

  My gaze flashed to his.

  His eyes were wide, his face pale. He felt it too.

  “Mograh.” His voice rasped low, shocked.

  “What?”

  He blinked, eyes going sharp. “Nothing.”

  I frowned at him.

  “Keep going,” he said, expression stony.

  I wanted to know what Mograh meant, but he clearly didn’t want to say. I’d look it up later.

  Carefully, I drew the blade across his wrist, making an inch-long slice in the flesh.

  He didn’t so much as flinch. I looked up, catching his gaze. Totally impassive.

  “Do you not feel pain?”

  “I do.”

  I couldn’t tell it from his tone.

  Blood welled, scarlet and bright, and I tilted his arm so it dripped into the potion. The droplets splashed onto the surface, and a hazy smoke rose upward. It smelled of the forest and the clouds. Quickly, it filled the room, swirling around us, making the air grow hazy.

  The feeling of his wrist beneath my hand seemed to expand. As the smoke swirled around us and the spell worked, it became more difficult to see him through the haze.

  I touched the side of the bowl with my free hand and fed my magic into the solution. It sparked and fizzed, magic swelling on the air.

  The smoke filled my lungs as I breathed, making me lightheaded. I gripped the man’s forearm, focusing on the tangible. But the smoke inside my head made my mind feel fuzzy.

  This was so strange. It felt almost like I had a connection with him.

  As if breathing in the smoke was like breathing in part of him. I felt like I knew him. Like I could be a part of him. That didn’t normally happen when I made one of these charms.

  The concern was driven from my mind as the smoke thickened in the air. All I could focus on was him. I could barely see him through the mist, but I caught glimpses of his flashing green eyes and his dark hair.

  I didn’t drop his arm, even though I didn’t need to hold on to it for the spell. Because I just couldn’t.

  I was too trapped in this strange feeling. He was dangerous, that much was obvious. I could feel it, as if the smoke were whispering it to me.

  He was the most dangerous man I’d ever met. He’d do terrible things to get what he wanted. He had done terrible things. Things he regretted.

  He was torn up inside, some long ago torture residing in his soul like a sleeping dragon. But he was all lethal strength and determination, willing and able to move past it. To keep going.

  It was that strength that drew me. That made my breath grow short in my throat.

  The world seemed to close in on us. His scent filled my nose and the touch of his skin beneath my hand made me burn. The tension increased, drawing us together.

 

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