Page 18 of Insurrection
Turning on my charm, I flirted back, "How did you know? I couldn’t help but feel drawn back here—back to you. Would you mind grabbing me another bourbon on the rocks, love?" Ending my question with the smirk that always got me my way, I saw her blush and bend over much more than necessary for the bottle of alcohol, giving me quite a view.
I was absolutely not into this Reaper chick, but I had to play the game. She wasn't ugly, by any means—I just preferred my women with a bit more meat on their bones than Reapers typically had. They were known for being tall and slender, and they had legs for days, which was a lot of other people's kryptonite. But not me.
My mind drifted back to the Succubus, who definitelywasmy type. Not only did she have mouthwatering curves and a slender waist that I could imagine gripping onto as I bent her over, but she was also intriguing for a million other reasons. Reasons that I couldn’t completely let go of, despite my intention otherwise. She was full of fire, and that was one thing I liked even more than physical appearance. I wanted a partner who could challenge me and who was mentally stimulating—someone who didn't let me walk all over them. Maybe that made me sound like a piece of shit, but I just couldn't get into a woman who let me treat them however the hell I wanted.
If a woman felt like I was treating her poorly, I wanted her to tell me that. To tell me to go fuck myself. There was nothing sexier than a woman with a backbone who demanded to be treated the way she deserved.
Just like that Succubus had.
Fuck, she had my full attention still, and I couldn't get her out of my mind.
A thwack to the back of my head had me hissing in pain as I whirled on my seat to see who and what had attacked me.
Curvy hips swayed as black heels clicked against the ground, leathery black wings now tucked to her back. Speak of the devil.
She’d just hit me in the head with her damn wing as she walked by. The move made me chuckle, though it probably would have made most people furious. Call me a glutton for punishment, but I liked her feisty side.
Wait...her wings were black. I had never seen a Succubus with black wings. How peculiar.
Turning back in my stool to face the bartender, I tried to hide my grimace as I saw her looking disapprovingly at my interest in the Succubus. Her black eyes narrowed as she leaned in closer to me over the wooden bar top, putting her cleavage on display as she did.
Batting her eyes at me she whispered, "You don't want that spoiled princess."
My head cocked to the side as I mused, "Princess?" That's an odd nickname for a Succubus in Reaper territory.
Her voice lowered as she glanced around, "You didn't hear it from me, but that's the princess of the House of Death. She's hybrid scum."
My head jerked back at the mother lode of information that had just been slammed down in such few words. First of all, the Succubus was the princess of the house I was trying to get information on? Secondly, she was a hybrid?
So, she was a Succubus and Reaper. That might be the information I needed to get the other houses to turn on the King of Death at the Summit. Since before my time, purity of bloodlines had been revered above all else. King Alaric having a hybrid next in line to take over his house would be a massive bomb to drop on the other houses.
They would never allow her to potentially have influence over the rest of us.
However, I did not share in the hatred the older generation felt for hybrids, and the words that left my lips next betrayed that. "Do not call her scum just because she is different. That makes you a bully of the lowest kind. Do you think she had any say in who her parents were?"
The bartender instantly straightened at the venom that dripped from my words, straightening her blouse as she stood up fully and looked around uncomfortably. "My apologies. Here is your drink."
She slid my glass of bourbon, over to me and hurried away to help another customer.
Anger at the hybrid slurs had caused my heart rate to accelerate, and I struggled to calm myself. I knew my parents were strictly in the camp of those who thought only pure bloodlines should lead houses, but they were just holding to the old ways that said it was inconceivable to allow the hybrid population to increase.
Although, I suppose “population” wasn’t the correct word because there were so few of them. Which only made it easier for people to treat them with a cruelty and disrespect they didn’t deserve.
If I ever held the title of Supreme, I would ensure that hybrids were afforded the same amount of respect as everyone else. I felt for the princess. She had probably never spoken to this bartender in her life, yet she was being spoken ill of simply for being alive.
My opinions on hybrids didn't change the fact that I needed to report back with information to help my house. I didn't necessarily like that it was the princess’ lineage that would be the deciding factor, but I had a duty to my people to position us to win the power we needed.
Tossing a few coins onto the bar to more than cover my tab, I drained the liquor, coughing slightly from the burn it left as it trailed down my throat and into my chest. My blonde hair fell into my eyes with the cough, and I pushed it back in place, styled neatly on top.
Placing the now-empty glass on the bar, I stood and decided to take the long way out of the restaurant in order to pass by the princess one more time. Walking in the direction she had gone earlier, I headed down a small corridor that led into the main dining room.
Instantly, my eyes zeroed in on her in the corner with someone else. She must have felt my gaze because her eyes snapped to mine, and I watched her chest heave with an intake of breath. Quickly, her face morphed into a scowl, making me chuckle as I strode towards them.
Something akin to jealousy poured through me as I tried to make out who was with her. Her companion faced away from me, obscured by the high booth at their back. Was she here with a Reaper man? Was she taken?
Rage flooded my mind at the thought, and I had to force myself to take a deep breath as I took the final few steps to their table, prepared to face the facts.
Finally, I saw a small, pixie-like woman with silver and lavender hair seated across from the princess, and my jealousy was instantly snuffed out, leaving me with my original goal for coming over here: I wanted her to know that I was well aware of who she was.
