2. Livana

Chapter 2

Livana

I skid to a stop before I trample over one of the doves serving drinks to a rowdy group of men. Music pounds in the main room, a group of dancers on the stage hitting every beat.

My heart finds a normal rhythm again, clearing my senses. I do my best to weave through the crowd, trying to blend in as I head for my cubby behind Aruk's massive bar. I duck behind it, using the crowds begging for drinks to hide as I grab my satchel and toss it over my shoulder.

"You're out early," Aruk says while he mixes a cocktail. "What happened?"

I crouch behind the bar, my chest heaving as I catch my breath. "drifters," I whisper.

A vein in Aruk's neck bulges. "They're not allowed to work while they're in here."

"I guess they didn't read the rules," I say, shaking my head. Goddess damn them—fucking monster bounty hunters. "Who gave me up?" I ask, knowing without a doubt it wasn't him.

Clarity dawns on me as I think back to the moment with Lera. Figures. I save her ass from a predator and she calls upon the hunters that can put me away for good.

"I don't know," Aruk answers me, completely ignoring the men at the bar demanding more drinks. "But when I find out, they're done here. I promise, girl."

"Don't bother," I say, waving him off. "It's been fun, but this is my sign to leave."

"You're one of my best doves," he argues. "Don't go. You have a home here."

Something warm pulses in my chest, the sensation foreign, like waking up from a dream I can't quite remember. The Red Lion is the first place I've felt safe at for a long time, and now…now I'm putting them all at risk. Aruk may know I'm a succubus—one of the Collector's most sought-after species because we're so rare—but he doesn't know the other half of me. That half could ruin him, ruin everyone in this room.

No, it's time to go. Time to get back to my real life—the one where I've been hiding from monster hunters and collector core for as long as I can remember.

Maybe it's time to give up and get caught.

Relief and desire swirl together at the thought of no longer staying on the move for fear of being discovered. No more hiding, no more scrounging for lust and blood. It would be over.

"Stay down," Aruk whispers, his spine straightening as he looks at someone over the bar.

I can't see, but I know it's Zev and Jagger from their unmistakable flavors dancing at the back of tongue.

"You gonna order a drink or stand there and glare?" Aruk asks.

"Where is she?" Zev's voice is all brutal business. It was alluring before I knew he was here to collect a bounty. Prick.

"The girl you bought a dance from?"

"Mmm," he grunts his answer, and I have to stop myself from huffing out a laugh. So many words, this one.

"She left," Aruk says, shrugging. "Shift is over. Come back another time."

"Liar, liar," Jagger says in a sing-song voice that has warm tendrils trickling over my skin. "Where is she?" he almost sings the words, and I watch in shock as Aruk's body locks up, like he's fighting some internal battle.

One look. That's all it takes from Aruk to have Zev leaping over the bar, his massive frame slamming right in front of me.

We lock gazes for a split second before I kick him in his chest, forcing him to crash back against the shelves of colored bottles and vials lining the back of the bar.

"Magic-wielding prick." Aruk grabs a flail from underneath the bar as Jagger climbs over, swinging it at him.

Jagger ducks the first swing, and full-on stops the second, plucking the weapon from Aruk's hands like he's taking a toy from a youngling.

Goddess, these two are strong. And smart. Not at all like the drifters I've come into contact with in the past. I've ran into a few over the past decade, and none of them had ever been strong or fast enough to catch me.

I gather my speed, flipping over the bar and racing for the front door?—

Something catches my ankle, yanking me back. I fall face first against the stone floor, the breath knocking from my lungs with the impact. I roll over, aiming a kick right between Zev's muscled thighs, but he blocks me, keeping hold of my heel.

"Ruthless," Jagger says as he comes up behind Zev. "This would be so much easier if you cooperate ." He sings the last word, and I feel the effects of his voice wash over me like warm honey. Goddess, his influence is almost as strong as mine, but he's no incubus—the male version of my kind—nor is he a vampire, a cousin to my kind, each of us talented when it comes to manipulating other's emotions or minds. No, his influence is warm and comforting where mine is cold.

My body goes limp, the effects rippling down my spine as his will demands I cooperate.

But I'm not just a normal succubus, and so I still have a will of my own despite his hypnotic humming. Not that they know that. I play the part, letting my eyes go hazy as Jagger crouches beside me, that voice of his a truly beautiful thing.

"Do you have her?" Zev asks.

Jagger smiles. It's pure confidence, and if he wasn't currently trying to subdue me, I might think it was a gorgeous one. "Oh yeah," he says. "Dove is all mine."

The fuck I am.

Magic dances beneath my skin, practically pounding on the mental walls I keep it locked behind. It wants to play, wants to ravage.

Hush I demand, but a few sparks shoot out despite my efforts to hold it in.

Fuck.

Luckily Zev and Jagger weren't looking at my hands, but goddess damn me, releasing magic is reckless. I'm not registered as a licensed wielder, and even a few sparks can alert the collector core of my whereabouts.

Zev releases his hold on my legs, and I let them fall limply to the floor. The second he takes his attention off of me, I strike. Hard and clean, I kick their feet out from under them, sending them both to the floor. I have my knives out just as quickly, retrieving them from the satchel slung over my shoulder. The daggers are like an extension of my body for how much I've trained with them, and almost as deadly as my fangs.

"Damn it, Jagger," Zev says as he scrambles to his feet.

"I had her!" Jagger fires back.

I snort out a laugh before racing for the door again. If I can just get outside, I'll easily lose them in the forest that surrounds Riverthorne and then make my way to the next township. My speed is hindered within these walls, even if my strength could have me crashing through them with half a thought, but the last thing I want to do is tear up Aruk's place and destroy everything he's worked so hard to build.

Aruk pays off the collector core to ensure this place is a safe haven, a place where all creatures can come without the worry of being captured. Almost everyone knows that, abides by that, and yet these two brutes are risking the wrath of everyone here for a measly bounty.

Tavern owners talk, and Zev and Jagger will be barred from ever indulging in their establishments comforts again. It's a ballsy move, and I hardly think the bounty for a succubus is worth it.

Unless they have other reasons for breaking the rules.

Apprehension dances up my spine, an icy warning.

Maybe my time really is up.

The thought makes my heart stutter, my survival instincts overtaking all other thought. I take a deep breath, willing it to slow. Demanding it not take the wrong path again and weaken me.

"Well, this has been fun," I say, winking at the two just as I reach the door. I fling it open?—

A blow to the chest knocks me backward, and I crash against Jagger and Zev, all of us toppling to the floor.

Panic sweeps through the crowd in an instant as the collector core march into the space, red armor gleaming, batons out and black helmets down.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

They usually stay away thanks to Aruk buying them off, but they can't simply ignore the use of unlicensed magic, not a signature as strong as mine anyway.

There are six of them—a small group by the Collector's standards, but enough to be a thorn in my side. They must've been deployed near here and sensed the breech in my magic.

Screams erupt as the crowd of mortals and creatures scatter at the sight, not one of them wanting to stick around for questioning and the possibility of being imprisoned. The Collector has let the descendants and survivors of the Purge exist as long as they submit to his rule and don't draw attention to themselves, but large gatherings of so many different types of us can sometimes be seen as an act of rebellion. We're not supposed to gather in large crowds. Some of us aren't even supposed to exist.

"Stay where you are!" a core screams the demand, encompassing the entire room.

No one listens. Tables are tossed over as the core races around to catch whoever is closest.

They don't know who the unlicensed magic came from, they just know it came from here.

Shit.

A whimper rings out to my left—a core is taking his baton to Lera as she tries to flee. Goddess, she looks so terrified, cowering before them. Blood flings from her mouth from another blow. With Zev and Jagger fighting through the chaotic crowds fleeing every direction, I'm free to speed toward her, stopping the third blow.

"Go," I demand, and Lera scampers off, blending into the crowd.

"By demand of the Collector, identify yourself?—"

"Don't think so," I cut off his orders, yanking the baton out of his hand and backhanding him with it. The black helmet cracks under the hit, revealing one angry-looking eye as he lunges for me. I drop the baton, dodging his attack. I anticipate the show of brute force, and snatch his neck with one hand, slicing through the soft tissue with my blade in the other.

His blood is warm as it slides over my hands, but the smell is off, like he's done nothing but dine on fish and poison. He hits the floor with a thud.

I don't relish killing, but members of the core have enough innocent blood on their hands to drown the entire continent, so I don't have a single fuck to give when it comes to snuffing them out.

One down, five to go.

I whirl around, scanning the chaos in the room. This place is supposed to be for pure enjoyment and fun. Fucking collector core, they ruin everything. I hate them even more than drifters. At least drifters do their job for gold. The core does the Collector's bidding out of a misguided loyalty for a sadistic tyrant. Idiots.

I hear a couple more familiar screams, my senses picking up on the twins in the corner of the room. Two of the core have them cornered, the sisters submitting with their hands raised, tears streaming down their cheeks.

One of the core raises his baton, even though the twins aren't a threat. He swings it downward—the blow aimed for Ava's face but connecting with Jez's as she throws herself in front of her sister.

Rage blossoms in my chest with such force I see nothing but red. My fangs pop out, pulsing with the need to tear through flesh as I race across the room. The other core is laughing, the sound barely muffled by the helmet he wears.

"Look at them cower," one says.

"We should keep these two," the other says. "Play with them a bit before handing them over."

It's the last thing he'll ever say.

I'm on them in seconds. One gets my dagger punched through his back, the other gets my teeth. I bite at his neck, ripping in the ruthless way I used to before I learned how to use my fangs properly. This one deserves no mercy, so I show him none as I tear out his throat.

My mouth fills with his blood, a sour taste coating my tongue. I spit it out, the crimson spray blending in with his uniform as he hits the floor, the other following him to the ground.

"Go," I say to the sisters. "Out the back."

"Thank you," Jez says as she helps Ava to her feet. They both look terrified, and I pretend that it's because of the core and not me. It's fun to lie to myself.

I spin around, my eyebrows raising as I spot Jagger and Zev fighting the remaining two core. Interesting. I knew the core and drifters didn't get along, but it's odd to see them fight when they work for the same boss.

The Collector forced the drifters—cousins to Fae, which imbued them with small magic, formidable strength, and keen senses—to work for him after the opposing side lost the war. Forcing them to change a code that had been set for centuries, turning them from protectors to his personal bounty hunters. It was their punishment for having a fragment of the Fae power in their veins. The Collector gave them a choice; they could either submit to being his beck-and-call bounty hunters or die. Most chose the prior.

The core look at drifters like trash they're forced to compete with, seeing themselves in a position of honor since they donned the Collector's colors.

Again, idiots.

The Red Lion clears out, almost all the patrons and employees having fled to the streets, but the initial damage of the core's entrance has been done. Tables are broken with tons of glass shattered along the stone floors. Aruk is doing his best to put out a small fire creeping its way over the stage. He's bleeding from a small wound above his eyebrow, nothing but anger and devastation in his eyes as he looks over his wrecked tavern.

Guilt slices through me, tears threatening to prick my eyes.

I swallow it down, giving Aruk a silent apology as I race past the still-fighting drifters, occupied with their battle against the last two core. I dump almost all the gold I've earned the past few weeks on the bar, hoping it will be enough to restore The Red Lion , then I sprint out the front door.

A hollow space opens up in my chest, aching and raw as I leave The Red Lion behind. I've left so many places before, but this one…it hurts. And it doesn't help that the core wouldn't have trashed it if it hadn't been for my slip in magic.

I take a sharp turn down the alleyway, the high stone building offering shadowy cover as I slow my pace, not wanting to be heard?—

A white-hot blow hits me from behind, knocking me off my feet and sending me sprawling to the ground. My muscles seize under the crackles of constricting magic, and I glare as two looming shadows appear above me.

"Bad dove," Jagger says. "Leaving us like that. Didn't Zev tell you that you belong to us now?" He smirks, and I strain through the invisible restraint to bare my fangs.

Damn drifter magic. It's small but powerful, and Zev has rendered me absolutely useless, the power drenched in his scent.

Zev crouches down, nothing but curiosity in those golden eyes of his as he looks me over.

"She took down three cores like it was nothing," Jagger says, speaking as if I'm not right exactly here, seizing and freezing on the damn cobblestoned path. We're in the autumn months, and I didn't exactly have time to grab my cloak.

"Hmm," Zev says in reply.

"I thought we were picking up a normal succubus," Jagger continues.

Dread swarms my body, overlapping the pain wracking every inch of me.

"I did too," Zev says, tilting his head. "What are you?"

I curl my lips. "Pissed off," I spit out the words.

Jagger laughs.

Zev looks at me with nothing but disappointment, like he expected me to tell him the truth. Like he expected me to come quietly.

I'm shivering now as Zev's magic clings so damn tightly to me. I bare my fangs as Zev leans closer, his hand gripping my chin to hold me steady.

"What. Are. You?" he accentuates every word.

I shiver on the ground, cold seeping into my bones, Zev's magic reaching its peak. I could break his power's hold, but that would mean revealing what I am which would be a death sentence from the drifters. At least as a Succubus, I'm of value. A bounty to be handed over to the Collector who wants one of my kind to keep as one of his pets.

Live today, fight tomorrow.

"I'm…"

I'm done.

I'm done running.

It's time. No one ever gets close to the Collector except for his family.

Unless you're a drifter, handing over a bounty.

Unless you're the bounty.

Sure, I don't understand the full realm of my powers, but I have enough of a grasp now that I can probably kill the Collector if I get close enough. Seeing his blood spill on his golden floors has been a fantasy of mine for a very, very long time.

The fight goes out of me, my muscles doing their best to relax under the strain of his magic.

"I'm…c-cold," I stutter out through my shivers.

Zev shakes his head, utterly fed up with me which, if I'm honest, brings me a whole heap of satisfaction in this shitty situation.

Jagger peels his large vest off his body, and bends to lay it over me. The size of it covers half of me, and I hate that I can't stop the sigh of relief at the rich warmth of it. His smell is all over it, making my mouth water and my fangs ache. Shit, I need to feed .

Zev studies me for a second longer, his magic fully bleeding out of my system. I move to leap to my feet, but his hand on my chin jerks me to a halt, his other glowing with a bluish-white color that looks like starlight.

His power swarms me, sweeping away my consciousness like smoke from a dying flame.