9. Draven

" F eisty," Troy says through a nervous laugh. "My bad, ‘Big Guy'."

When I stepped out of the Playhouse of Mirrors and saw my Little Sheep no more than ten feet away from the exit, I could barely contain my irritation. She's lucky I didn't grab her, toss her over my shoulder and take her straight to my trailer. Her inability to follow the simple direction, run, is concerning to me.

I wonder if I need to speak with the prowlers, I don't think they are scaring her enough.

Maybe I'm being too gentle… Hmm .

"Don't call me that," my warning is followed by a groan. Watching as her round ass disappears into the crowd gives me a sense I'll be frustrated for a while. My cock strains against the fabric of my pants, seeking some way to relieve the tension in my balls.

Troy sighs loud enough even the screams of the guests weren't able to muffle it. "She smells nice."

The growl that thrums from my throat causes him to bark out an anxious laugh. "You know I'd never disrespect you, Grim, chill. That isn't to say Marcella and Po won't. Those two are fucking obnoxious, and that one is a treat."

I chalk my restraint up to liking him, because calling what is mine a treat is a recipe for losing a few fingers. "I warned Marcella already," I comment as we both begin weaving our way through the crowd. The guests are either running from prowlers, or giggling thinking they won't actually hurt them if they so choose to select them for a bit of fun.

While the eyes of the attending guests drift between Troy and me, my focus remains solely on the raven-haired figure of my target, whose thick locks bounce as she searches for her group of friends.

"I'll equally remind Po of the same."

Hands graze against my arm, a subtle reminder that just as we can touch the guests, they can equally do the same with us. I pay no mind; rarely do you get to touch Death and live to talk about it.

"What's her name?" he asks, taking a sidestep between two women taking a selfie. They yelp at his sudden appearance and the cackle he forces makes me shake my head. He truly tries to embody that persona.

When he returns to my side, I answer his question; "Prey. I'm liking Little Sheep."

"On her birth certificate, Grim," he says with a playful tone. I'd say he enjoys this as much as Marcella does, but where hers stems from watching too many horror movies, his is from his time in the Army, and needing to flesh out all the demons he acquired in it. He was used by our government, and this is his way of not becoming a raging serial killer.

I clear my throat, "Max. Share that with the others, and I'll shove your lucky coin up your ass."

The laugh that slips out is so high-pitched it causes a few guests around us to shriek. When they realize who is walking among them, they start snapping photos.

"Hi," a female voice slithers its way into my ear, and I tilt my head off to the side. "Can you pick me up?" I cock an eyebrow, not that she could see it. She's short, shorter than Troy, and I imagine lighter than my cock. "My friends dared me to ask. I've never been able to see over a crowd before."

"I'll put you on my shoulders, sweet princess," Troy croons. "If you share your fear, I may even introduce you to my rainbow."

Terrible.

"No, I want to be carried by that ." Her finger trails from my stomach, heading north.

She has stopped us, and I'm more irritated I've been interrupted from following my sheep. I groan, and snap, "Unless you want to become the soil which this crowd walks on, move." I purposefully drag out the last word, a rasp to it that I know vibrates even in her chest.

The fear that rounds her eyes is beautiful, and without giving her the moment to step out of my way, I walk through her.

"Asshole!" she yelps.

"Such a way with people…" Troy offers. "See you later. I'm going to go mark a few lucky guests. Maybe I'll be able to get my hands on a sweet ‘treat' tonight." Before I'm able to grab him, he is slithering away like the little gremlin he is .

Rolling my eyes, I trudge forward. She couldn't have got far.

Papa Legba was probably my least favorite of the attractions, for no reason other than they didn't consider height when they put it together. I understand it's meant to feel small, but fucking Satan himself, I'll have to stay slightly hunched while stalking my prey.

The moment Max gets in line for the Voodoo House, I watch her from a distance with intrigue. Although she hasn't seen me yet, I don't hide from her in the event she turns around.

I could snatch her up without a single problem, but I find this dance we're doing slightly fascinating.

She desires what I can offer—or at the very least, she's intrigued enough by the possibility that she isn't genuinely running away.

My gaze meets hers, and she appears genuinely surprised to see me. I tilt my head slowly to the side, letting out a low, throbbing sound from my throat as she slips her hand into what I assume is Ben's. He isn't her type, and the disdainful look she casts my way clearly aims to provoke me.

I remain unfazed, and while the boy seems thrilled, I can already tell she'll be ditching him as soon as she's out of my sight—or at least thinks she is.

Flipping me off is going to get that tight ass of hers filled.

The ‘eat me' comment is going to bite her, because I already plan on doing so. Now that she's openly asked for it, well, who am I to deny such a request .

Oh, Little Sheep, I will be devouring you soon.

As her band walks through, I take a moment, as if giving her a ‘head start'.

After I think a minute has passed, I move toward the entrance and make eye contact with the attendee. He gives me a nod and I slip between the spaces of the walls, making my way around to the open area beyond the entrance. I can feel someone doing the same not more than a few feet behind me, but I don't pay them any mind. Not like it's against the rules. Guests can technically go anywhere they can fit.

Once settled into the first room, I roll my head around on my shoulders. I'm not even halfway into my step to continue following after her, when I hear; "Grim."

Why are they so talkative with me this weekend? I finally find a good prey to hunt, and I'm being cock blocked.

"Pot-Belly," I say dryly. "I'm busy." My head drags to my left, seeing the burly man beside me cross his arms and lean against the wall we both seemingly crawled through.

He laughs without forming a smile. "As am I, my prey is here." I look toward the entrance, and as a few more people filter through, I don't spot the Governor's son. "He is in the back of the line; he is so predictable I don't fear him running." He pushes off the wall and steps mere inches from me. "Your prey smells—"

"If you want to keep your dick attached to your body, Po…" I warn.

"You both smell nice together, how's that?"

I may actually kill him. He's tested my patience before, but this is becoming more than annoyance. It's pulling me into rage.

"I know you don't mind sharing." The fact he is pushing me as if he doesn't fear Death itself is insanity in the flesh. "Once I've done what I need to do with my prey, let's have that little—"

My chest expands as I quickly spin, my grip on his throat tight enough to knock the little air he had available to him. Po is huge, and while I tower over him, I'm no fool to think I can take him as easily as the other four. Still, to fucking test me like this is foolish.

I'm tightening my clutch on him, and I can see the failing restraint not to attack back. However, he knows the rules. He is overstepping, and he understands he's in the wrong.

"Shall I remind you of your place?"

His teeth bare in an unfriendly grin. "No, Grim."

"Remember," I shove myself away from him, releasing my grip on his life, "there is a reason I'm here." He rolls his head around on his shoulders, rubbing his throat with one hand as he tries to laugh through the pain I've undoubtedly caused. "Don't touch—no, matter of fact—don't look at her."

"If she makes it to my maze." My nose twitches involuntarily as he continues to test my patience. "You hold no dominion."

My eyes fall to half-mast, bored with this back and forth. "If she makes it to your maze, Pot-Belly, it's not her I'll be worried about."