Page 6 of Hound

Low pitched sirens wailed beneath the window. They weren’t meant for human ears to hear; but rather, vampires.

Vampire authorities had routine inspections on feeding parlors to assure law-abiding customs. Never did they visit spontaneously—unless one reported disruption.

“Bloody hell.”

A shadow unfolded as the man wavered onto his feet. Pure impulse rushed through my veins as I caught his build, his solid weight faltering my balance.

There was no possibility of making it to Anabella before I was discovered. Where was Sylvester? If he remained within these walls, who’s to say another fight wouldn’t recur? It was a risk I couldn’t sustain, especially when our visit regarded the Mubaraks?—

A groan vibrated next to me, the man’s footing finding itself. Though he still appeared bewildered, I dragged him away with every muscle I could exhaust until I tucked us into a secluded, tight repository.

Every sharp and muscular angle he possessed molded into me within the tight space. His heat consumed me. Every crevicein his face chiseled. Plump lips pursed. Smooth flesh glistened, particularly along the slash along his right eyebrow. On a flawless canvas, it would disrupt the beauty, but this added to his.

Electricity charged between us. His nostrils flared as they inhaled me, his soft caress trailing from the crown of my head to my cheek. A bronze, soft gaze hid away as heavy eyelids concealed them, the man’s lips meeting mine. First careful, studying with wonder, then, it flickered, and each stroke of his possessive tongue searched formore. Hands held me as if I were attached to his grip, as if I were never meant to be away from this moment. My grip followed suit, clutching firm muscles underneath the trench coat.

This wasn’t impulse or instinct. It was a potent carnality and I was a moth intoxicated by the light.

Suddenly, he inhaled a heavy breath and pulled away with furrowed eyebrows, fire burning fiercely within those widened eyes, the dark hue melting into a frenzied medallion yellow.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he spat with a contorted expression that leaned toward disgust.

“Me?” I scoffed. “Iwas the one who helpedyouhide before the authorities could pull you away.”

He tried to retract, his heat ever-growing, but the small gap between our chests was all the tight space allowed. “By kissing me?”

Warmth flushed my cheeks. “That wasyourdoing, you imbecile.”

“Sure.” He tugged at the knob beside him and stepped away, his feet resounding against the carpeted floors.

I followed with fury coating my vision. “You owe me a debt.”

“A debt that can only be redeemed with a name, Doll.” A sharp grin tore across his face. “And I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’ll uncover it,” the words slipped before I could bite at them. The desire to know the name of the man who kissed me grew as he gave no response.

The man exited the den, evading the unraveling new presences by disappearing into the opposite end of Le Maudit. Every fiber of my being ached to follow him. This was unlike myself. To rectify such, I stood still and collected what little apparent dignity I possessed for the night.

Authorities embedded each corner. By the time I reached the first floor, uniformed bodies infiltrated the space I’d shared with the man who’d slipped from my grasp.

I pulled my gaze away and focused on the familiar beings deep in the parlor.

Sylvester’s focus flickered onto me, no sense of recognition filling his murky eyes, and fell back on the drink before him. Anabella followed his gaze. “Christopher!”

His body was languid, his presence muted.Thiswas the Sylvester I’d interacted with. The Sylvester our society was accustomed to.

“I found him! Well, in truth, Mal discovered me before I could track him. But no matter! Sit. We can’t waste no more,” Anabella chirped as she pulled me to them.

Had I imagined it all? Impossible when the device met my hand within my pocket.

Sylvester staggered as he turned to us, a hiccup trailing between his words as he said, “With the disappearance of the Mubarak lineage, Heads of Ministry are preparing for the worst-case scenario.”

“Which is?” Panic clipped Anabella’s tone.

My attention was caged by the man who’d stolen a kiss, whose lips shadowed my own, further detaching me from the conversation at hand. I had failed to realize it then. It scarcely registered now.

The man had possessed no presence.

“War,” Sylvester muffled as he threw his head back and swallowed a mouthful of bane. “This is my warning to you both. Prepare yourselves.”

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