halted just two feet away, and I snapped all my attention to him rather than let myself wander off to moon over those who weren’t here. With absolute care, he pressed a hand to his chest and then bowed. The move put him far too close to me for my taste, but I didn’t dare back up a step. Three things that were true when dealing with any predator whether vampire, shifter, or demon—they could smell fear, they were always looking for weakness, and if you ran, they chased.
I didn’t know how old Anton was, but I’d need the element of surprise to take him down, and this close, I wouldn’t have much time.
“I am here to offer myself formally,” Anton intoned, still bowed.
An offering? Was he fucking kiddo? “Pass,” I told him bluntly.
As he straightened, his expression tightened, and though the flicker was barely perceptible, it was definitely there. “M’lady—” he began, and I held up a hand.
“Let me stop you right there. I’m not your anything.” In fact, the longer he stood there, the more I wanted him gone. “If that was all you had to say, there’s the door.”
The puzzlement flashing in his too dark eyes faded fast, and a slow, almost cruel smirk replaced it. “You haven’t changed, Fiona,” he said, but that wasn’t Anton’s voice. The chill lacing my spine turned into pure shards of ice. “I worried they would corrupt you, but you remain irresistibly stubborn.”
Fuck.
Me.
“Dorran,” I exhaled. Anton’s expression shifted, almost like a mask, into some form of pleasure that looked way more like pain. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
He chuckled, then Anton’s hand was around my throat and I was pinned to the wall. The strength in that arm was iron, and the grip on my neck equally inflexible. “But you hadn’t forgotten me.”
“Not likely,” I told him, feathering a hand over Anton’s wrist. The steady cadence of his heart hadn’t changed once. If Dorran was truly pulling his strings, the actions didn’t affect his pulse. I had no idea if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Hard to forget my keeper, even if he was a shitty host.”
Anton—fuck that, I couldn’t think of him as Anton at the moment. Dorran leaned in, running his nose along my jaw to just behind my ear, and he took a deep breath. “I miss your scent, Fiona. But you’re warm from the bath, and there’s a flush of color to your cheeks.” Another deep breath. “Are you wet for me?”
Tucking my tongue against the inside of my cheek, I bit back my first response. I needed the Dorran occupied Anton to move his head back, so I settled for an indelicate snort. “Not even a little bit.”
The insult resonated, and he snapped his head up to stare at me. The darkness in those eyes drilled into my soul. Demons had eyes like that. Dorran was a shadow demon though, and they weren’t known for possessions, but corruption?
That they could do.
The hand gripping my throat tightened, cutting off my oxygen.
“We can fix that,” he practically purred. “Your cell is waiting for you, and I will make sure you are tended well.”
“Thanks,” I gritted out. “But I’d rather suck on a power line.”
The taunt worked to pull him back into range, and I slammed my head forward. It cracked my forehead off of his. Pain radiated out from the strike like I’d taken a hammer to my own head. I locked my hands on his throat, even as the pressure had darkness edging my vision as oxygen deprivation actually seemed to mean something to me.
“Hybrids,” Dorran murmured before he fucking licked my cheek—ugh, “have a few weaknesses to exploit. I will have fun devouring yours.”
Even fighting for air, I had no chance of strangling the actual vampire before he took me down. Beneath the skin, two presences existed, and they weren’t in any kind of harmony. The lust for power, for control, for dominance was all Dorran. I knew him. He wanted to feed on me, and I swore I could feel him panting at the first brush of contact. The second presence wanted to be free, but was suffocated under the weight of the shadow demon that had strip-mined him as if for parts.
I felt bad for the kid.
Lust was a funny thing…too much could impair judgment, make a person reckless, drive them mad.
The absence of it, though?
Apathy.
Malaise.
Ennui.
I dug into the shadow demon’s lust and pulled on it.
All of it.
I’d fucking consume it if