Page 8 of Demons in My Bed
“Oh my fuck, a bunny. I want it,” Talon growled, and I didn’t even have to look to know his nails were already sharpening against Misha’s thighs.
“Who is she?” Felix asked, coming to stand next to me as we tracked her movements like the monsters we were.
My brow lifted when Frank appeared, clearly en route to us, but the lying fuck got distracted by my bunny. He came to a stop, forcing her and her little butterfly to also stop in their tracks. Frank was a good-looking guy, I’d give him that. Too bad he wouldn’t be after tonight.
Focusing my hearing, I was able to pick up their conversation easily. “Looking good, sweetheart. Damn. I’m not surprised you ended up in Top Tier,” Frank crooned.
My bunny tilted her head and surveyed Frank, with his shoulder-length, dark hair and strong jawline. Bringing his hand up, he ran his filthy fucking fingers through her long, straight ponytail.
“I’m going to remove each one of those right after I pluck the nails and break each knuckle.” We all turned and glanced at Talon, who was now standing on the table, leering at Frank. ”What?″ he demanded, looking scandalized at our expressions. “I’m just letting you fuckers know.”
“Don’t touch me.”
We all heard it. For all of our proclivities, those three words were like throwing a match in the middle of a forest that hadn’t seen rain in months. I had to actively work to keep my horns from sprouting and my wings from erupting.
Frank laughed as he ignored her, placing both of his hands on her hips and tugging her hard toward him. Hard enough that her hand left her friend’s and her drink sloshed over the rim.
“Frank!” I barked, deliberately letting some of my demon lace my tone. Bunny Baby and Frank both turned to look, and I caught Misha beckoning them over with a crook of one massive finger. His big ass hadn’t even left the couch. Frank released the girl as though he’d been burned and moved toward us, but without the bunny. That wouldn’t do.
“You too, Bunny!” Talon shouted, doing a twirl.
Rhodes intercepted Frank and guided him roughly, pushing him down on the sofa, right next to Misha. I could hear them talking, but couldn’t focus on anything other than the creature stomping toward me in those sexy ass boots that deserved to be licked. Sweet fucking moons, my demon was scaling the cage he was confined within, desperate to get out and devour this sweet treat.
My mouth was watering. My dick was thumping.
And then my eyes met hers.
Murder. They were full of murder.
I tossed my head back and laughed deeply, because holy fucking shit, I think I’d just fallen in love with a gods damn murderess wearing a rabbit mask and fuck-me boots.
Chapter three
Myeyespiercedhisas I stormed over, pissed as hell at being summoned like a fucking animal, but at the same time, this was good.Chill out, Palmer. This is the opening you wanted.My new friend’s hand was sweaty in mine, and I felt the way her fingers trembled with each step we took toward the group of unstable gang leaders. I couldn’t blame her. They’d literally stabbed a man in the neck like it was just another day in the office.
I’d heard of them, heard the stories. Anyone who wanted to know could find out; it wasn’t like The Exiled hid what they did. Why they did it though, that was what interested me. There was another gang in the neighboring city that was just as toxic, but their city was a bit different. While Port Black was dangerous, it wasn’t filthy. The city was kept relatively clean, whereas West Harbor was a mess and just as dangerous as Port Black. It seemed as though The Exiled actually cared about the state of their city, not just their power over it.
Rumor had it that this gang ran the city with an iron fist, and anyone who objected to their rule ended up beaten, missing, or dead. The entire gang fell under the name The Exiled, but when you heard whispers on the street, everyone knew exactly who was at the top of the chain. And I was about to meet them all, live and in color.
Ashland was staring at me so intensely that it was starting to piss me off. I didn’t want some murderous, criminal-minded fuckboy staring at me like that. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was even more gorgeous in person than his photos suggested.
At that moment, if I could have spewed fire at him from my eyes, he would’ve been a pile of ash. In fact, I was wishing like hell that I had a pyro affinity so I could light this bitch up like a charbroiled chicken wing. He seemed to know it too, though instead of recognizing danger, he laughed. Fucking laughed.
“Are you fuckingkidding me?” The words were out of my mouth, no stopping them. Ashland’s head snapped forward, and another demon—the one usually dressed like a 1920’s mobster—appeared at his side, glaring daggers at me. With his mask gone, it made his scowling all the more severe, even though it had only been a masquerade mask. While I’d classify most of The Exiled as hot, I’d call Rhodes handsome or roguish. He was striking in his fancy clothes, but he really was a wolf in designer sheep’s clothing.
“Problem here?” he asked, letting his gaze flick down my body before quickly returning to my face.
Ashland shook his head. “Nah, Rhodes. No problem. I was just about to introduce myself to these two. Do you have your handkerchief? That barbarian caused her to spill half of her drink.”
Rhodes pulled a silk hankie out of his breast pocket, holding it out for me to take. I tossed the rest of my drink back, then took the small square of fabric, wiping down my fingers and arm.
Satisfied that I got it all, I tossed the hankie back to Rhodes and met Ashland’s blue gaze. “Well, what do you want?” I crossed my arms, pushing my cleavage up. They knew I wasn’t from here. I could easily get away with pretending I had no idea who the fuck they were and take a shot at their egos in the same strike.
My cute, little friend gasped and gripped my upper arm. “She’s not from here. I’m sorry,” she stammered, seconds away from dropping to her knees to beg for forgiveness on my behalf.
Ashland waved her off, but Rhodes seemed to take the dig for what it was, narrowing his eyes at me. Good. He’d be the one I could wear down. Fucking dapper, dandy dickwad.
“It’s not a problem. We’re glad to have you two here tonight. I’m Ashland, one of the owners of the club. Would you like a drink…?” He let the sentence hang, and my friend picked up on the cue, blushing as she gave her name.
