Page 21 of The Devil's Waltz

“He has his own questionable royalty to deal with, Blake. I’m not saying we can’t go, just don’t start packing a suitcase thinking we’re leaving tomorrow.”

Blake exhales, and the sound is deeply exasperated, as if I’m testing his patience. The thought makes my lips twitch.

“I can’t believe I let you drag me out,” I grumble as we join the back of the line outside the bar. Why it’s so busy for a Sunday night, I have no idea. The building vibrates from the music blasting inside, and I focus on that rather than the chatter of the people around us.

Blake laughs deeply. “I’ve always been skilled at persuasion. I have this natural charm and—”

I smack the back of his head to shut him up.

He snarls at me, but I’m able to tell the difference between when he’s being friendly versus sadistic and menacing. He steps in closer to ensure we aren’t overheard. “My reason for bringing you here is twofold, my friend.” He holds up a finger. “First, I feel like you need a night out away from all that tension you’re holding in your shoulders.” I shoot him a death glare that clearly doesn’t faze him, because he holds up another finger and continues, “And second, because I’m pretty sure you’re not feeding enough. I’m here to make sure you do.” His tone is more pointed by the end of his sentence. Serious Blake doesn’t materialize often, so I’m always a bit thrown when he does.

The pit in my gut turns to ice, and I grit my teeth. “You’re meant to be my guard, not my babysitter.”

He throws his arm around my shoulders, digging his fingers into my skin. “My role solely depends on your behavior, Kane.”

I shove him away, scowling. “I didn’t realize how far up my mother’s ass you were.”

He rolls his eyes. “This has nothing to do with Lucia. Believe it or not, this is becauseIgive a shit about you. Shocking, I know. You don’t alwaysmake it easy. But your response to me telling you the plan for tonight just solidifies what I figured.” He meets my gaze. “You need this.”

I wish I could refute his statement, but the monster in me is clawing at the bars of its cage, salivating at the thought of hunting tonight.

I haven’t fed since before I met Camille, and realistically, I know it’s smart to keep the monster satisfied. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about feeding on her, especially when she fell asleep on my couch. It would have been so easy…I exhale a harsh breath. “Fine.”

The line moves, and we’re inside the bar within a few minutes.

With the stench of body odor and alcohol and smoke mingling together, it’s a sickening aroma that burns my nostrils. I rub the back of my neck, wishing I didn’t have heightened senses in this particular environment. The bass vibrates the walls and floor, and I scan the room in search of the bar.

If I’m going to endure this, I’m going to need a drink.

Blake follows me, easily catching the attention of the bartender—a petite woman with bright blue eyes and red corkscrew curls. My friend orders his drink of choice, a bourbon on the rocks, and before I can speak up to ask for a scotch, he orders that as well. I can’t deny that he knows me, even on days I wish he didn’t.

The bartender disappears for a minute to pour our drinks, then comes back, sets them on napkins, and slides them across the bar. “Do you boys want to open a tab?”

Blake says, “Please,” at the same moment I say, “No,” and drop some money in front of her. “Keep the change.” I down the scotch, leave the empty glass behind, and turn away from the bar to prowl through the crowd. I want to get this over with as soon as possible.

He’s at my side in a matter of seconds, speaking low, knowing only I’ll hear him clearly over the music. “You’re ruining the fun of the hunt.”

I cast him a sideways glance. “You know I’ve never been into this like you are.”

“It’s really too bad.” Hetuts. “It’s that pesky humanity of yours.”

I roll my eyes, raking my fingers through my hair. Some days, I can’t help but agree with him. A lot of things would be much easier if my father had been a demon as well. If I wasn’t part human. Hell, even if I could turn my humanity off.

I shove those pointless thoughts away. I can typically keep them buried deep, but they tend to crawl their way to the surface when I haven’t fed in a while.

Blake scans the room, sipping his drink and moving his hips to the music. He swallows a mouthful of bourbon, his lips curling into a smirk. He’s found his target.

I follow his line of sight and find a tall woman with long black hair, wearing a dress that clings to her like a second skin. She’s with a group of friends, but it’s clear that Blake has caught her attention as much as she’s caught his.

“Are you good without me for a few minutes?”

“Go,” I tell him. “Don’t kill this one.”

“I make no promises,” he calls back as he saunters away.

I shake my head and watch him work. In less than a minute, he has her laughing, his arm draped around her shoulders as he murmurs into her ear, and the two of them walk off down a crowded hallway.

The odds of finding someone with fear palpable enough to feed on without having to create it are next to none. Something tells me Blake did that intentionally. Hewantsme to use my ability to bring the fear out of someone.

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