Page 53 of Run Little Fawn

He nods, his eyes glazed with a mix of boredom and lust. "Head on back, sweetheart. Dressing room's to the left, stage is straight ahead. Knock 'em dead."

I force a smile, my stomach churning with nerves as I make my way through the dimly lit hallway. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and perfume, the thump of the bass vibrating through the walls like a pulse.

I find the dressing room, a cramped, dingy space filled with a dizzying array of sequins and feathers and glittering, barely-there costumes. The other girls barely spare me a glance as I slip off my coat, too focused on their own pre-show rituals to pay me any mind.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman staring back at me. The burgundy lingerie hugs my curves like a second skin, the fishnets and stilettos transforming my legs into long, lean lines of temptation. The wig falls in tousled waves around my shoulders, the platinum locks a stark contrast to my smoky, heavily lined eyes.

I look like a different person entirely.

Like someone Lucian will never see coming.

The audition itself is a blur, a haze of pulsing lights and pounding music and the roar of the crowd. I move on instinct, letting the beat guide my hips, my hands, my every sensual sway and dip.

I've never done anything like this before, never bared my body or my soul in such a raw, visceral way. But I'm not the same person I was before the hunt. Not by a long shot.

I am the hunter now, stalking my prey with every smoldering glance and teasing touch. I am the predator, the temptress, the siren luring men to their doom.

And when the music fades and the lights go down, when the manager pulls me aside with a leering grin and a nod of approval to let me know I've got the job, I feel a flicker of triumph, a spark of hope that maybe I can pull this off.

And somewhere out there, Lucian is searching for me, hunting me, his every instinct honed to the chase.

But this time, I'll be the one laying the trap.

This time, I'll be the one waiting in the shadows, ready to strike.

All I have to do now is wait for him to take the bait.

And when he does…

I'll be ready.

Chapter Twenty-One

THE HUNTER

The footage on my laptop screen flickers, the grainy black and white image capturing Aria's curvy form as she slips out of the hotel where I left her into the waiting cab.

I lean back, sipping the steaming coffee the waitress just refilled my mug with, my eyes never leaving the screen. The cab pulls away from the curb in the footage I just hacked into, merging into the early morning traffic.

Left turn at the light.

Heading east.

Toward the airport, just as I suspected.

I can't help the small smile that tugs at the corner of my mouth. Clever girl. She knows better than to book a commercial flight, leaving a clear trail for me to follow. No, she'll go for a charter, something off the books. Harder to trace. And she'll use a fake name.

Which is why I'm sitting at a coffee shop across from the airport, where it'll be easier to hack into the security system and see exactly which terminal she's headed to.

A few minutes later and my suspicions she went the chartered route are confirmed. I watch as she hands the porter her luggage and disappears onto the flight.

She's wearing a disguise—a short wig and understated clothing—but I recognize her all the same. It seems my little fawn has been paying attention to my lessons after all.

The thought strokes my ego. I'm always eager for worthy prey.

And Aria, with her quick mind and defiant spirit, is the most enticing prey I've ever encountered.

I absently trace the rim of my coffee mug, my mind already racing ahead, anticipating her next move.

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