Darker immortals had an affinity for places like this. Maybe she was one and just hid it exceptionally well. In all the time he’d known her, Natalia never did anything to tip her hand—assuming she was an immortal. For her to enjoy being at this place, she must be a Valefar, but she didn’t act like it. Natalia rarely lost her temper and he never saw the tell-tale sign—the mixing of blood and fire in her eyes, the signal that she’d lost control. And Eric taunted the hell out her. For the past few years he was nasty to her more often than not, and Natalia would react, but her actions were like that of a child. She threw fits and called him names. She never tried to kill him. Her body never shook with anger so that her eyes pooled with uncontrollable rage.

Eric was rolling his empty glass in his hand, when the girl on his lap stiffened and stood. His gaze lifted and he saw that Carina was walking toward him. “Eric,” she said tartly. The nameless girl hurried away. “Killed her already?” Carina cocked her blonde head. Her hair was messier than before. No doubt she already sucked out some poor bastard’s soul.

Eric leaned forward, a grin lighting up his face, as he put his empty glass on the bar. “How much?”

She didn’t know what he was talking about. The expression on her face faltered. The nonchalant air she carried tripped, face-first. “How much, what?”

“Name your price, Carina. I want her,” his voice darkened, demanding and deadly. “I want her the way I had Jocelyn. Don’t deny your best patron a little pleasure.” Eric’s heart was beating hard. Jocelyn. Damn, mentioning the girl’s name made him want to do that all over again. The itch in his fingers, the burning to feel—he cut off the thought. Controlling himself was crucial.

Eric’s infectious smile caught on immediately and Carina purred back at him, “A little pleasure is what this place was made for Eric, but what you’re asking for goes beyond that.” She shook her head, her blonde hair falling over her bare shoulder. She smoothed her hands over the satin corset. Leaning closer to him, she smiled, her red lips inches from his face. “Besides, you couldn’t possibly afford it. Best go find your playthings somewhere else, I think.” Carina turned on her heel, ready to walk away. But Eric recognized that he had her. There was a price.

Reaching for her waist, he fished his finger through a corset string and tugged slightly, stopping her in her tracks. An old trick, he decided. She looked down at him, an eyebrow arched. Eric asked, “Indulge me, Carina.”

Ruby lips twisted into a sadistic smile, “Triple your previous payment, and a kiss.” She breathed the last word, her full lips inches from his.

Eric smirked, “A kiss? You don’t want something… more?” He knew what she wanted—his soul. She could sense it, even though it was tainted and torn.

Her eyes lingered on his face, her fingers under her chin. Carina sighed, and leaned against the bar, coyly looking at him from under long lashes. She mistook his question, thinking he was mortal. “Would you like more, Eric? You would, wouldn’t you?” She laughed deeply. Mortal men were so easy to ensnare. She could take his money and his soul anytime she wanted. She pressed a finger to Eric’s lips, barely touching him, whispering, “But I know better.”

Eric watched her closely, his body tense as he tried not to respond to her touch. It sent ripples of rage through his body. Carina mistook his tension for longing. He wondered how she stayed alive this long. Maybe she wasn’t as daft as she seemed.

Carina, standing straight, leaned her hip against the bar, resting her arm on the shiny top. “Bring me more gold and I’ll give you as many girls as you like. No rules. No promises, Eric. You can do what you like.” He watched her lips move, shocked by her nefarious offer. No wonder Natalia was afraid of her. The woman just sold her for slaughter, but he sensed something darker there, too.

Eric moved his hand, ready to put it in his pocket to use a Valefar charm to produce more money, but Carina stopped his hand. Eric looked at her, ready to strike. Carina turned, standing in front of him, and rested her other hand on his shoulder. Eric didn’t move. Sliding her hand along his bare skin, she moved behind his shoulder. He could feel her standing there, in his blind spot. The muscles in Eric’s shoulders rippled as he tensed. Leaning forward, Carina slid her slender fingers into his empty pocket. Eric stared straight ahead watching her in the glass, heart pounding in his chest. He would kill her if she attacked. Every muscle in his body tensed as he waited for her to respond.

Her long dark lashes looked up at his reflection in the mirror. She purred in his ear, “How did you intend to pay for her when your pockets are empty?” Knowingly, she gazed at him as she withdrew her hand.

Eric was quiet for a moment, unsure if she was calling him out. After all this time, she finally figured out what he was. He’d used spells to hide himself from her, but after Jocelyn, she must have suspected he wasn’t just some random murderer. Her death was too gruesome for that, too elaborately enjoyed for someone who’d never done it before. It wasn’t an act of passionate rage that flew out of control. Damn it. Eric decided to find out exactly what she thought he was. “But, we have ways, don’t we Carina?”

She shrugged, as if she didn’t know what he was talking about. Eric slipped his hand into his pocket and used the Valefar ability. Within seconds a large gold coin formed. Carina watched him, eyes locked on his face as he did it, examining—waiting for his beautiful face to twist in pain—the price for creating such a large piece of gold would be agonizing, if it was even possible. But Eric was different. The pain price of using Valefar magic was less than that of the curse, which made him barely notice. It was like a fly sitting on his shoulder. He was aware of it, but it didn’t faze him. His power exceeded hers. Unlike Carina, there was no limit to the amount of gold he could create. When Eric pulled the coin from his pocket, he placed it on the dark bar top. The gold glittered in the dim light.

Plucking up the coin, Carina examined it, “So it would seem. But I have taken every weapon you had and there is no proof of your affiliation.”

Astute woman. She was asking about his mark. If he was a Valefar, why didn’t she see it when she took his weapons? Surely the brimstone that hid his affiliation—as she called it—was contained in a weapon. That was the way it worked for the rest of the Valefar, but for not Eric. When he left the Underworld, the golden mark on his flesh faded and he didn’t know why. But he wasn’t about to tell her that. Eric leaned in, “I could say the same thing, yet I know what you are—and what you’re capable of—what a kiss means, from a beautiful woman like you.”

Carina flipped the coin between her fingers, glancing up at Eric from beneath her brow. She didn’t like him, he was sure of it, but at this point she would have to challenge him to leave and he didn’t think she would. Her crimson lips parted slightly as she said, “There are some needs that cannot be sated.”

“I am well aware,” Eric replied.

She nodded slowly, accepting his words. Turning to walk away, she continued to examine the coin in her palm. Eric watched her leave, the black robe flowing around her ankles. When she stopped, Carina spoke over her shoulder at him. Her voice was detached, feeling no remorse for the transaction she’d made, “Clean up when you’re done.”

He eyed her, Eric’s fingers tapping the bar like he couldn’t wait, a wide dark smile stretching across his face, “It’ll be like she never existed.”

CHATPER EIGHT

Barefoot, he padded past the guards, feeling Carina’s eyes on his back. She knew he wasn’t mortal anymore and was suspicious of him, thinking he was a Valefar. He didn’t correct her. While it led her closer to realizing who he was, she was still miles away. Ivy was scouring the city looking for him, but the charm he placed on that piece of gold would make Carina’s recollection of his features grow hazy. She wouldn’t remember him until she saw him again. The only way he’d get trapped here is if Mandor happened to walk in while he was here.

The tension in his legs made Eric want to run. He was practically giddy. This would tell him what she was, and if she was mortal the gold would protect her from Carina. And if she wasn’t, nothing could protect her from Eric. Pulse rushing in his ears, he took slow controlled steps. Passing the guards he said nothing. The tension in his arms made them feel like lead, hanging at his sides. He cracked his knuckles to relieve the sensation and stopped in front of door three. Eric withdrew the key from his pocket and slid it into the lock. His heart was pounding. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, he thought that the bed would be empty. The girl would have freed herself and ran. There was no way that Natalia was a mortal stupid enough to think that she could survive in a place like this. He’d seen the spark in her eyes, the light of keen intelligence that said she was smarter than that.

But he was wrong.

When he pushed the door open, and stepped into the room, Eric’s heart sank. Natalia was still lying there, chained—and livid. The bed sheets were bunched under her back as she tried to free herself by twisting out of the cuffs. Her wrists were bloody where the chains cut into her soft flesh. Tears stained her face, distorting her dark make-up. It looked like someone had taken coal and drew lines under her eyes. Eric’s stomach twisted. He hated seeing her like that, and he was the one who did it to her. Damn.

The anger that coursed when he realized she was just some helpless girl—an incredibly stupid one—faded. He walked toward her. She didn’t look at him. She didn’t think he was coming back. Eric’s voice was soft, softer than it should have been. He wanted to take her and shake some sense into her, but he controlled himself.

“When are you going to believe me?” he asked sternly, sitting next to her on the bed. He reached for her cuff. Natalia’s arm was limp. The scent of her blood was heavenly, but he ignored it, and freed her chewed up wrist.

She stared at him, watching his hands move to unchain her. His touch was light and the slope of his shoulders told her a million words Eric would never say. After he freed her ankles, she sat up slowly, rubbing her wrists with Eric’s hand on her back to steady her. Dark hair cascaded down her back. Icy blue eyes met his, “I’ll believe you when you stop coming back for me.”

“You’re demented, you know that?” he laughed hollowly. She had a death wish, and he… Eric realized how much he wanted her to live. There was no life for her if she chose to hang around him. Intentionally steeling his voice, he growled, “Go find some regular guy to fuck and have babies with—I’m not him.” He glared at her. That had to be the reason. That had to be why she was here. She didn’t see him. She didn’t see what he really was. He was certain she was looking at him like a hero and he wasn’t. He wasn’t. And it didn’t matter what he did, she didn’t see it.

“You’re wrong,” she said, barely loud enough to hear.

He laughed callously, wringing his hands before snapping at her, “About what?”