Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“And exactly how do I do that? You just said they’re hard to identify.”
“They are. They have no natural scent and the ability to create illusion. But you have one thing that they don’t.”
I roll my eyes at myself in the bathroom mirror. “And that is…?”
“Your human side, Hannah. Most humans have the internal fortitude to fend off the evil of demons.”
“They do?”
“Of course they do. Otherwise there’d be a lot of possessed people walking around, and there aren’t.”
“Maybe there are and we don’t know it.”
He laughs. Laughs! I’m getting even more ticked off.
“We’d know it. And believe me, there are plenty. Mostly in Washington D.C. But statistically it’s an insignificant number. Find a way to use your strengths as a vampire and your strengths as a human, and you’ll be able to identify the demons.”
“If you can’t, how can I?”
“I don’t have a human side.”
“But you’re the vampire king!”
He laughs again, this time even more uproariously. “You’re damned right about that, daughter. Now find the demons. Find out why they’re on the payroll. I have a hunch they’ll lead you to the information you’re looking for.”
“Fine,” I huff. “Is that all?”
“For now. Get back to business.”
“Right. Bye.” I end the call, unlock the bathroom door, and walk into the bedroom. “Ready for round two, Rogan?”
But he’s gone.
15
“Christ, Rogan,” I mutter. “You couldn’t wait five minutes?”
So much for that mate bullshit. Clearly he has no problem leaving me.
I wish I could say the same. Though my father’s call was the equivalent of a very cold shower, already I’m heating again. I feel the remnants of Victor in my suite—I inhale his scent, hear his thumping heart. It all surges straight between my legs.
How am I supposed to find the evidence my father wants if I’m constantly horny and on edge?
I draw in a deep breath and trail my fingers over my hard nipples.
I shudder. Not a good idea, touching myself. “Stop it,” I say aloud.
First things first. I’ve already come into contact with a demon, according to my father. It’s not Blaze, so by elimination, it has to be one of the other two thugs or someone else I’ve come in contact with.
There are only three, since I checked in online and went straight to my suite when I arrived. The bartender who served me a glass of Syrah, the young woman at the concierge’s desk, and the woman manning the entrance to the high stakes area.
I quickly rule her out, as she responded to my mind control.
Except…
What if she was only pretending to succumb? What if she let me into the area for her own reasons? My father warned that demons are masters of illusion. Sure, she seemed to be under my influence, but she may have been faking the whole thing.
Okay. No one is ruled out.
Five suspects, then—the two thugs, the bartender, the concierge, and the woman working the high stakes area.
One—maybe more?—is a demon. I’m not sure the two thugs are even in the running, because I don’t know for sure that they’re on Rogan’s payroll.
I’m pretty sure they’re demons, though. I sensed absolutely no fear from either of them, not even when Rogan had one pinned against the wall. Plus, my mind control didn’t work on him, and I got no scent from him.
Thug number one—a demon. But is he on Rogan’s payroll?
And another question—why was Blaze involved in my attack? Rogan said he didn’t pay his employees to beat on women.
“Fuck,” I say aloud through gritted teeth. I pick up my clothes and quickly dress. Skinny jeans, a black tank, and leather boots. I slide my phone into my back pocket along with some cash and a credit card. No purse.
I’m going demon hunting.
MY FIRST STOP is the high stakes area. Good. The pretty woman is still on duty. I smile.
“I love your hair,” I say.
She blushes. “Thank you.”
“I always wanted blond hair,” I lie. “My sister has it. She always got so much more attention that I did. From men, I mean.”
She gazes at me, seeming to assess me. “I can’t believe that. You’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you”—I eye her name tag—“Heidi. And thank you for letting me into the area earlier.”
She widens her eyes. “Did I?”
“You don’t remember?”
“To be honest, I see a lot of people during the day.”
“Oh?”
“Some days more than others. Today has been a busy day.”
I peek past her. A couple people are playing the slots. Most of the tables are empty. Doesn’t look too busy to me.
I smile.
Gotcha.
It’s an act. If she truly let me in and didn’t remember, she’d be a lot more upset than she is now. Maybe fearing the loss of her job.
No fear is coming from her at all.
Vampires aren’t great at sensing emotion—except for fear. And lust.
Perhaps Heidi doesn’t care about her job. Or perhaps she’s under some kind of trance or thrall.