Page 1 of Marked
Chapter 1
Ruin
The lights in club Carnage pulse around me as I step through the door. Strobes and lasers streak through the sweet-scented fog. The kind that hangs over the place in a mind-numbing haze. Or maybe that’s the smoke from the tightly rolled joints with their blazing red tips.
Women in leather skirts and men in tight jeans grind around the open dance floor, bodies tightly mashed and skin on full display. The ripe scent of human sweat and sex fills my nose as their pounding heartbeats roar in my ears. The overload is jarring as hell after the quiet of the colony house. My hand scratches at the five o’clock shadow on my jaw.
It’s a good fucking thing I fed before I left.
I peer over my shoulder as the rest of the team fans out, blending into the shadows. Stocky, well-built men with danger in their eyes and more leather than a BDSM scene and more weapons than a fucking armory. I motion the last two bulky figures closer.
Tanner Faust and Gage Whitehorn scan the crowd around us before locking their eyes on me.
“We know the target,” I say, voice low but rumbling in the quiet. No need to cause a stir amidst the humans. “Circle the lower levels. You get eyes on him, key me.”
Tanner’s dark head bobs, and a trace of shifter light colors his pale, almost lifeless irises. “Got it, Cap.” He weaves in to the patrons.
Gage and I stand motionless in the sea of faces. He smirks coldly. “You gonna let Horan or Caine know we’re playing tonight, Ruin?”
I glower at the Fae warrior. “Those two are Hell bent on battling on opposite sides, feel? Let ‘em have the night off. I don’t need the added shit.”
He chuckles under his breath before following the team into the darkest corners of the room.
With every entrance and exit covered, I turn on my heel and slip through the patrons to the bar. It’s the best vantage point for the lower floor, and the greatest wealth of inside information. My eyes scan over the humans and occasional supernatural for our target. Though theothersare few, more than one pair of shining irises finds me in the dark.
Several human women glance up as I pass; their expressions are a mix of curiosity and mild concern. I don’t smile at them.
There’s no point. Short of feeding on or fucking them, I have little time for the softer sex. Even with my kind. But human women are delicate, frail. Weak. And not meant for a night in my bed or a quick meal in my stomach.
Something must flow over my hardened face because they back away, gaze averted.
The bar is smooth and oddly warm as I rest my leather-clad hip on one black velvet stool, and my arm on the polished top. Chaos swirls around me. Flesh, blood, and brittle bone. All the back rooms of Carnage are lit with pulsing red lights flashing ‘occupied‘, but one, and through the haze, a slim woman in a bustier tugs her willing buyer behind her.
I ignore the now closed door and scan for the bartender.
A curvaceous brunette, in a thin tank and jeans, moves nimbly behind the counter, slender fingers twirl the half-full bottles with ease. The music around us is a mix of metal and a heavy, synthesized beat. She sashays a bit, offering smiles and new drinks without ever needing to be asked. My eyes trail from the tips of her thick, chestnut waves to the full swell of her ass. And stay there.
“If you’re going to stare at my ass, at least buy me a shot while you’re at it.”
My eyes snap up to find her watching me over one tan and freckled shoulder.
She’s pretty, like fucking bombshell level, with a heart-shaped face, full lips, and nice bone structure. But it’s the color of her irises that arrests me.
Icy blue so pale, they are kissing white.
My fingers drum the old wood. “What do you drink?”
She offers me a sultry smile, and all the donor blood in my veins pools below my belt line.
Fuck, she’s hot.
“Whiskey,” she quips, deadpan.
“Then make it two.”
She nods and pulls two shot glasses from under the counter. Her hands damn near blur as she fills them with top-shelf before sliding one down the polished oak. I catch it, eyes never leaving her face.
A faint flush of blood fills her cheeks, and I stifle a groan as a distinct scent floats to me. Lilac and human.
