Page 36 of Curses and Casualties
I hold up Bjorn’s token. The effect is immediate—his small eyes widen, and he takes a step back.
“Prague marker,” he breathes. “Shit. Haven’t seen one of those in...” He shakes his massive head. “Wait inside. Touch nothing. Speak to no one unless spoken to first.” His eyes find Georgia. “And you, little wolf-carrier. Whatever you do, don’t stare at the feeds.”
“The feeds?” Georgia starts to ask, but I’m already guiding her through the obsidian doors.
The assault on my senses is immediate. Blood—so much blood I can taste it in the air. But underneath, lavender and mint, probably to keep the humans calm. The lighting is dim, all reds and shadows, and everywhere I look, beautiful people move with inhuman grace.
Kane snarls.Too many death-drinkers. Cannot fight all.
“Steady,” I murmur, both to him and to Georgia, who’s pressed against my side.
That’s when I hear it—the music. It starts as a low throb in the floorboards, bass that syncs with my heartbeat. But there’s something else woven through it, something that makes my thoughts go soft around the edges.
“Ryan,” Georgia’s voice comes out dreamy. “Do you hear that? It’s beautiful.”
Her hand loosens in mine as her body begins to sway. Around us, I watch others doing the same, their eyes glazing over as they drift toward the dance floor like leaves on a current.
“No,” I growl, trying to shake off the pull. But it’s like fighting quicksand, and the more I resist, the deeper it drags me down.
Fight!Kane roars, but even he sounds distant.
The melody wraps around my mind like silk scarves, each note a gentle tug toward surrender. Georgia’s already moving, her hips swaying as she pulls me with her. Her eyes are unfocused, pupils blown wide, and when she presses against me, I can feel our bond humming in time with the music too.
“Need you, mate,” she murmurs against my neck. “Need to move with you.”
And god help me, I do too. The rational part of my brain—the part screaming that this is wrong—gets smaller with each beat. Around us, bodies writhe in perfect synchronization. I glimpse fangs at throats, see humans tilting their heads back in ecstasy as vampires feed, but it all seems so natural, so right...
“Ryan!” Scarlett’s voice cuts through like a blade. She’s fighting her way toward us, her face twisted with effort. “It’s the music! It’s in the fucking music, and it’s messing with the human in you!”
But I can barely process her words. Georgia’s mouth is on my neck now, and all I can think about is how good she feels, how right it is to lose ourselves in this moment. The bond between us flares white-hot, feeding off whatever magic is woven into the melody.
“So beautiful,” Georgia sighs, and I’m not sure if she means the music or us or everything.
Through the haze, I see Ethan stumbling through the crowd, his usual controlled demeanor completely gone. He’s stalking a human woman like prey, his movements liquid and predatory. That should worry me. Why doesn’t it worry me?
WAKE!Kane’s roar finally breaks through, just for a second.This is hunter magic!
I blink hard, trying to focus, but the music adapts, becomes more insistent. It’s not just sound—it’s magic, old and refined, designed to turn predators into willing prey. My fangs ache to drop, my wolf wants to hunt, but not in the way he should. This is wrong, twisted, but?—
Silver light explodes across my vision.
Amara’s hand is on the back of my neck, her magic searing through the compulsion like acid through paper. I gasp, stumbling backward as reality crashes back. Georgia blinks rapidly beside me as Amara touches her too, breaking the spell’s hold.
“What the fuck,” I manage, my voice rough.
“Vampire compulsion,” Amara says grimly. “Woven into the sound system itself. Ingenious, really. Makes the humans compliant.”
“But we’re not human,” Georgia argues.
“You’re vessels.”
“Oh…”
I look around with clear eyes now and feel sick. The humans aren’t just dancing—they’re being fed on, their expressions blissful as vampires take what they need. The supernaturals who aren’t feeding are standing guard, or just enjoying the show.
“That’s revolting,” Georgia whispers, pressing her face into my chest.
“Where’s—” Scarlett starts, then, “Oh, fuck no.”
