Succubus Unchained - Heather Long Page 0,34

Sambuca. I used to love the black licorice liquor, until I got puking drunk on it.

Now, even the thought of black licorice made my stomach rebel.

Fin grimaced at my expression. “Breathe through your mouth.”

Ugh. “I’m fine,” I lied. My arms hurt. My head hurt. My plans for the evening had been ruined. Fin had popped up like a bad penny I’d been desperate to see.

Yes, desperate.

I could admit my own damn short comings.

The worst part, though, was I was still hungry, and Fin eyed me like he could consume me. It was enough to make me burn with the urge to climb him like a pole.

Fuck, I did not have time for this, not with a bloody, headless corpse at our feet—the aforementioned head still in Fin’s hand—and the wounded and dead piling up on the other side of the bar, where the pitched battle finally gave as both David and Varick called it.

Well, that was refreshing.

“Get out,” Varick snarled.

“This isn’t over,” David warned him, but the newly christened prince—fuck, newly christened. That was right, Isaac was still out there somewhere!—glared while his people dragged away a few bodies. Some were missing limbs.

Did vampires regenerate them? Or were we going to be dealing with one-armed vampires? I really couldn’t remember.

As if skipping a stone across the surface of the water, Varick glared right at me. The moment my gaze locked on the alpha, I knew we were in for a world of shit. His pack just bled for me, and he hated my guts. This was not going to end well.

Fin stepped between us, cutting off his line of sight, and I blinked as he tossed the head casually to land at Varick’s feet. Despite his vampires evacuating, David maintained his stance. Vamp had balls, I’d give him that. “You want to blame someone for the trouble, blame your own employee, wolf.” The arctic tone brooked zero arguments.

“If that bitchy little succubus—”

Fin was a blur across the room, and then he had Varick in one hand and David in the other, both by the throat, both hefted like they weighed nothing.

Okay, that was a little hot.

Totally lying—it was exceptionally hot, and a thrill went up my spine, even as my earlier hunger surged back to the surface. Every other creature in the room froze, including Elias. I caught his gaze as he focused on me. He flicked a look to Fin, then to me, and then to the bar behind me with a jerk of his chin.

He wanted me to go.

Now.

While Fin was distracted.

That was…

…an excellent plan. My raging hormones were incredibly not onboard, but I sincerely did not give a fuck. I left the keep for a reason. Fin finding me here didn’t change that reason. If anything, it proved my point. I flicked a look back to Elias. I wanted to say goodbye. Something.

He dipped his chin a fraction. Understanding flared in his eyes. We didn’t need to say it, but dammit, the fist in my chest tightened as I took a single step toward the door. Fin was still focused on the remaining vampires and the wolf pack while he held the lives of their respective leaders in his hands.

Nothing in this room was a threat to him.

Not anymore.

I didn’t overthink it.

I just left.

The air outside slapped me with humidity as I hurried into the night. The stench of blood was all over me. I encountered a pair of eager vampires ready to swoop in and steal me away.

Fuck.

Them.

I left their broken bodies propped next to each other, and now I was wearing a lot more blood than I should be for a night out on the town.

Like enough that if the human police caught sight of me, I’d be spending a few hours cleaning up that mess.

Arms folded, I kept my head down and hurried away from the club. I needed to get out of the bloodied clothes, clean up, and do something before Fin tracked me again. It was the looking down that did me in. I slammed right into a hard wall of a body and damn near bounced off of it.

Snapping my head up, I stared into Rogue’s too blue eyes. His lips were compressed in a thin line as he swept his gaze over me. The hunger I’d been wrestling with on the walk away from Fin flash-fired through me.

“You’re hurt.” It wasn’t a question. I was going to tell him ‘no.’ I was going to say the blood wasn’t mine. I’d