TWENTY NINE

Azeroth

I nearly drop the weights I'm lifting onto my foot when Mordicus appears halfway through my workout.

"What are you doing?"

I smother my curse and set down the dumbbell. "Working out. What does it look like?"

"What for?" His lip curls into his signature sneer.

I sigh. "It's relaxing. You should try it some time. Might get that rod out from up your ass."

Mordicus just stares at me for a long moment. Then he shakes his head. "You may as well have been born human. Pathetic. I'm not here to discuss that, however. I have a proposition for you."

"No," I say instantly. Whatever it is, I don't want it.

"Not so hasty." He grins.

My tail flicks in annoyance. This isn't going to be good. He clearly thinks he's gotten one over on me. Or he's about to. "What is it?"

"Well, isn't it best to make sure you know what deal you're turning down before you turn it down out of hand?"

"Fine. You want to tell me, and you're not going to leave me alone until you have. So get it over with. What is it?"

"I just wondered what you think it would be worth for me not to tell that little piece of yours that you've been harvesting her dreams."

I blink.

Why did I ever underestimate the extent of his evil? Every time I do this it bites me in the ass. I still try to bluff. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Fixing my eyes on the weight, I lift it into my hand again and begin another set of reps.

Mordicus laughs. "Good try. But where else are you getting all that power you're throwing around? I have a feeling humans don't like that sort of thing, do they? Not very consensual. Not very nice ." He sneers the words as if they're contemptible, and I hate him a little bit more for it.

Was I ever like this?

I avoid answering that question, even in my own head.

I get up and stretch, mop my brow with the towel, and deliberately don't look at Mordicus. "For your information, she knows everything. I'm sorry to ruin your little ambush, but you'll have to come up with something better than that."

"Oh, is that right?" When I glance sideways at him, Mordicus is watching me intently. "Well, in that case, I suppose you're not interested in making any deal with me."

"No. I'm not." I stride across the room to the leg press and adjust the settings. When Moridcus still doesn't budge, I take a seat and begin a new set. The stretch burns a little in my thighs. Two hundred pounds doesn't take any magic to move, but it does take effort.

"Well, if you're not worried, I suppose I'll go find that human of yours."

"She's not here," I tell him as he starts toward the door of the gym.

"Oh, that's a shame. Luckily, I know where she lives. I guess I'll just drop in on her there."

I nearly drop the weights and leap out of the seat to throttle him. I might not survive an all-out attack, but right now it feels worth it.

Somehow, though, I keep my cool. "Fine. Might as well. You know I was getting tired of her, anyway. She's certainly not worth the cost of any deal with you."

He glares at me for another long moment. I just keep breathing through my repetitions and hold his gaze.

Finally, he snorts. "Fuck, you're a worthless loser, Azeroth. I'm not even sure there's a good use for you." He disappears, leaving behind the customary noxious smell.

I don't relax.

How can I? This isn't over. I haven't seen him so determined to get under my skin in a long time. There's no way he's giving up this easily. He'll be watching me, waiting for an opportunity.

Fuck!

There's nothing to do but play my bluff and hope I can carry it off. I just need to avoid Elodie for a few days, until Mordicus gets bored and finds someone else to torment. For a moment, I wish I'd just told Elodie about the harvesting. But will she forgive me? I'm not ready to take that chance.

When she messages to cancel our plans tomorrow, it's almost like fate has intervened. Even though I know it's for the best, it leaves such a bitter taste in my mouth that I can't reply straight away. By the time I do, I'm appropriately distant. For all I know, Mordicus could be spying on me. I switch off my phone and get changed. Even walking the city streets full of noise and activity does nothing to distract me from my bad mood.

Perhaps I really should leave Elodie alone. Getting involved with me is surely a recipe for hurt for her. I'd be doing her a favor.

I don't want to leave her alone, though. I want to have her with me every second of the day and night. I want to fall asleep holding her and be the one who makes her face light up in that pretty smile every day.

What the fuck has happened to me?

Resolving to get the fuck over it, I find a human strip club. The dingy place is full of the stink of desperation. An older guy sits alone nursing a scotch and watching a young woman in tiny red panties dance on a pole on one side of the stage. I catch a glimpse of his thoughts. Of her sliding to the edge of the stage and spreading her legs, pulling aside the red panties to expose a wet pussy he'd like to blow on. I see the thought clutch him as he imagines the look of disgust on her face. Of her calling security and having him kicked out. Calling him names.

Inside his head, he makes a litany of the names he imagines her calling him.

I move away before the nausea rising in my throat can overwhelm me.

The woman on stage thinks about her college debt. She thinks about the cash she needs to make tonight. She wonders if the guy with the scotch will tip her. He doesn't look like a tipper. When she catches sight of me, she imagines me sliding a hundred dollar bill into the waistband of her panties. Requesting a private dance.

She'd like to spend that extra cash on a new pair of shoes, but she knows she should save it.

I could harvest these people without even touching them. Their need is powerful.

But the taste of their desires makes me sick. Harvesting them would give me nothing like the rush I get from Elodie. Compared to them, her energy is like a Michelin star meal. Sumptuous, balanced, rich, and perfect. Cool, clean water after the scum that's been festering in a stagnant pond for days.

I take a seat at the bar and order a drink. I try not to look around. I should get used to this. To going back to living like this. Trouble is, now I've had a taste of Elodie, this is untenable.

Not for the first time in my life, I curse Mordicus and hope with every fiber of my being he gets what he fucking deserves.

Without feeding on anyone, I slide five hundred dollar bills across the front of the stage toward the dancer. I turn to leave as soon as she's come over to collect it, not waiting to be thanked.