9. Livana

Chapter 9

Livana

P ower is like a drug—seductive, exciting, and offering an escape I desperately crave. Jagger's blood, his touch, his kiss, are pure power that I can feel thrumming through my veins with each step we take toward Zev.

It doesn't matter that Jagger is no longer actively feeding me—his blood and the power it contains pumps through my veins, fueling me, strengthening me in an intoxicating way that has me seeing stars. My muscles no longer ache, my fangs no longer pulse with starvation. I'm whole, for at least as long as the effects last, and it's dizzying.

It's almost enough to quell the sudden bite of anger I feel pricking my skin the second we reach Zev where he stands by the bar, a scowl on his face and disappointment in those golden eyes.

Almost .

He's not looking at me, of course. He's looking at Jagger like he just lost his coin purse. And I hate it. Hate that Zev's disappointment makes shame cling to my skin, like I've done something wrong, when in fact, it was Jagger's idea to feed me. I didn't seduce him. It was the other way around. Zev probably thinks I used my influence on Jagger and made him do it.

But why do I care what Zev thinks? He's a means to an end. They both are.

"We need to move," Zev says by way of greeting, barely bothering to look at me.

"So eager," I say because I just can't help myself. "Do you take pleasure in anything, Zev? Or are you quick to finish in all things?" I make a point of looking down his body, my gaze lingering a touch too long between his massive thighs.

"Dove," Jagger playfully scolds me where he remains behind me.

I can't say that it's the worst feeling in the world, to have him at my backside and Zev at my front, but right now I want to punch Zev more than anything else. I don't need his judgment, not when I've done everything he's asked of me.

"Careful, succubus," Zev says, drawing my attention to his face. His lips shape a dangerous curve as he glares down at me. "Or you might just find out."

I swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry. What the fuck does that mean? And why do I want so badly for him to show me?

"Empty threats," I force out the words. "Are as useful as wine in place of blood." I bat my eyelashes up at him, leaving the tease in his hands. I'm more interested in seeing if he'll break more than the actual idea of breaking him.

A quick sense of cedar and spiced chocolate bursts on the back of my tongue, but it's gone just as fast. Goddess, Zev has a lock on his desire, his emotions, more than any creature I've ever seen. It's like he's trained himself to be icy, calculating, and quiet for reasons beyond that of just his expected duties as a drifter.

Zev holds my gaze for a second longer, like he's trying to complete a riddle before he blinks, grunts, and turns around. Not another word or command. He knows we'll follow him, even though I'm tempted to do anything but.

"Come on, dove," Jagger says, coaxing me with a gentle but powerful hand on my wrist. I fall into step beside him, weaving through the crowd before I give one last look over my shoulder at The Garden of Flame .

My eyes lock with Sirius's where he lounges across the room, and a pang of grief overwhelms me. I won't be returning here, no matter what I promised Sirius when he told me goodbye a little while ago.

I won't be alive to come back and take him and Quest up on their offer to reside here, dancing and feeding under the safety of Sirius's protection. Carving out what would've been a truly beautiful life.

Maybe I would've told Six where I was, too. Finally met him and allowed myself to accept our Matched bond. Maybe we could've lived happily ever after as fate intended.

Too bad fate overlooked one terribly obvious fact.

Happily ever afters aren't meant for monsters.

I flash Sirius a smile I know he can see through, forcing myself to turn around and follow my drifter captors out of the tavern.

The second we're clear of the doors, walking down the long alleyway toward the street where Zev secured Rain, I'm hit with a sadness that threatens to crush the breath from my lungs. I could've been happy here, could've been safe here, but it would've put Sirius and Quest in direct danger.

I have more important things to do than wallow in could be . I need to focus on what is . And that's the one goal that's been driving me since I was six years old. Kill the Collector for what he did to my family. For what he continues to do to countless innocent creatures across the continent. Nothing can get in the way of that.

Not even the more-than-tempting offer at a real life here.

Rain whinnies as we approach, and I smooth a hand over his wide nose, relishing the velvety softness beneath my fingers. It's grounding, the steadiness of the majestic horse, and I savor it as I take a few breaths to right myself. No way will I ever let Zev see my sadness and use it to his advantage.

"Ride or walk?" Zev asks, and the question is enough to shock me firmly in the present.

"I get a choice?"

His lips form a harsh line, like he's regretting giving me options. "I'll just shackle you?—"

"Ride," I say quickly, before he can rescind the choice. "Please," I add for good measure. I may want to throat punch him, but I also love riding. I miss it, and I haven't had a horse of my own in so many years. Not that Rain is mine, but I can pretend for the next few weeks at least, can't I?

Zev dips his head in what I'm guessing is an approving nod, and I pat Rain a few more times before sliding my boot into the stirrup and swinging one leg over his back. The saddle is firm beneath me, the reins a familiar comfort in my hands.

Goddess, I've missed this. The cold night air kisses my cheeks as we slowly make our way down the main road, the steady clop of Rain's hooves on the cobblestones a soothing sound that washes over me. I should be terrified as Zev and Jagger take positions on either side of me, keeping step with Rain as we make our way down the path, but I'm not.

I can't help it, it's hard to be anything but joyful when I'm on the back of a horse. My father taught me how to ride before my legs were even steady. We used to take our horses out before the sun came up, exploring the wooded area around our home until dawn broke across the sky in a smear of orange and pink and yellow.

Sometimes Papa would pack us breakfast—cups of deer blood that we'd share while marveling at the beauty of the awakening sky. Back then it's all I needed to survive, the desire needs not kicking in until I reached sixteen and my body went through the change. Things were so much simpler then. Safer. Kinder.

I swallow hard, reaching down to smooth my hand across Rain's neck in a silent thank you for conjuring the memory for me. If I can help it, I try not to think of my father or mother, try to quash any memories because they sit so heavy when they surface. But, the closer we get to Lingate, the closer I get to sealing my fate, I suppose it's useful to let them consume me now. After all, they remind me why I'm doing this in the first place.

For what I lost.

For what so many have lost.

The streets of Destowne clear of foot traffic the farther along we go down the main road, the grand glass and stone buildings settling into a sweet sort of hushed quiet that begs of sleep with promises of delightful dreams. The mortals are given curfews by the Collector, and they obey him without question, especially when he tells them only monsters are out after a certain time, even though it's him they should be afraid of, not creatures like me, or even Jagger and Zev. Ridiculous how?—

Rain rears back, his front legs lifting off the cobblestone road like he's spotted a viper. I have to grip the reins and squeeze my thighs to stay atop him before he crashes back to the stone again.

A blast of magic pops right before us, a white burst of light that has Rain moving backward as he whinnies.

"Fuck," Zev growls, drawing his longsword from behind his back.

"Hey there, Zev," an unfamiliar masculine voice calls out in the night before a burly man steps out from the alleyway just ahead.

Five more men follow him, each as thickly built and wearing equally smug looks on their faces.

"Balan ," Zev answers, lowering his sword an inch.

Balan raises his brows, looking past where Jagger has moved to stand on Zev's right, both not so casually positioned in front of me and the horse.

From this position, I have a great advantage, able to spot each of the men's weapons strapped to their thighs, backs, and forearms. They're heavily armed, each one wearing a chain around their necks?—

Drifters.

More fucking drifters.

Flavors burst on my tongue—lemon and chalk and something sour. They want me, but not for anything good.

"What brings you to Destowne?" Jagger asks, his tone light and friendly.

Maybe they're all old friends, but from the way Zev still clutches his sword, I doubt it.

"In between jobs," Balan says, shrugging. "You know me and the boys love to have a bit of fun while waiting for the next gig."

"Who doesn't?" Jagger grins. "Have you tried The Garden of Flame ? We just left there. Excellent drinks."

The men around Balan shift, almost like they're waiting for some signal to move. It sets my teeth on edge.

"Oh yeah, yeah," Balan says. "We've been there a few times."

Jagger nods, flashing Zev a look before he reaches back and grabs the loose reins on Rain, tugging him forward. "Good to see you," he says. "We're on a tight schedule?—"

"That's the thing," Balan says, moving to block our path. "We heard you acquired quite the bounty." His eyes roam up to me, and I do my best to look unimpressive, slouching slightly on Rain's back and putting a damper on any power that might've slipped through.

"You heard," Zev repeats the words. "From who?"

Balan smirks, revealing a few broken teeth. "The prince himself," he answers, his chest puffing out just a bit. "Told us you found yourself a succubus. And he's been looking for one of them for ages for his collection."

Jagger steps back a few beats, directing Rain to do the same.

"The Collector wants her," Zev says. "I don't give a fuck what his son does."

For once, Zev and I are on the same page. I know the Collector is a dick, but the rumors of his son's evil are legendary. Some stories say when he's in his shifted form he delights in flying through the skies and gorging himself on the flesh of innocents. I'd rather deal with the Collector than the prince any fucking day.

Balan and his men laugh, all forced amusement at Zev's grumbling. "That's where you and I differ," he says, stepping closer. "I don't really care what either of them do or want. I care about gold. Lots of it. Enough to drown myself in it." His eyes cast up to me again. "And she's worth a heavy purse."

"She's. Mine ." The words are lethal coming from Zev's lips, causing a streak of flame to snap down my spine.

"This bounty is ours," Jagger echoes, placing himself even more between me and the men than before. "Move on."

I hate that the firm declarations do things to my body, creating warm pulses of hunger that have me shivering. I belong to myself, but it's kind of adorable watching the drifters get all growly over me.

Balan laughs again, shaking his head. "What aren't you two getting through your thick skulls?" he asks, but it's clear he doesn't really want a response as he jabs a thick finger at me. "We're taking over this bounty. You either hand her over or we take her."

I part my lips, prepared to tell these assholes that I'm not some piece of property to be bartered over, but Zev must sense my attitude, because he shoots a warning glare at me over his shoulder that shuts me right up.

"You're not taking her." Zev's words are final.

Fuck.

"Six on two," Balan says. "You know you don't stand a chance, Zev."

Zev moves his sword defensively at the same time that Jagger slides his guitar off his back, attaching it to a custom strap on Rain's saddle in one easy, practiced move.

"You two are idiots," Balan says, snapping his fingers. All his men draw their weapons. "You know that?"

"Argument could be made that you are," Jagger fires back, drawing a blade from a holster on his thigh. "Think of how stupid you'll look when you lose."

"Don't damage the bounty," Balan orders his men right before chaos breaks loose.

In the span of a blink, the men rush each other, the clang of blades crashing together cracking the once soft, silent night air. I tug on the reins, urging Rain away from the brawl. We make it a couple feet away, and I guide him around the building, offering him some cover.

I hop down, soothing the restless mount as I crane my head around the stone wall.

Zev and Jagger fight like they're an extension of each other—their moves complementing in an effortless way like a deadly, ruthless dance. And they are ruthless as they fight, all shots of power radiating out of them as they beat back two men at a time. It's enthralling to watch, the sound of their blades hitting their marks like music among the clashing of swords.

Balan isn't fighting, instead watching and waiting for what I assume will be the opportune time to deliver a cheap blow to one of them, but the rest of his men are all in, some already bleeding from the fight.

Jagger hums and the person he's fighting staggers from his influence, giving Jagger the perfect opportunity to knock him unconscious.

My hand tightens on Rain's straps, a path across the street open and clear. We could run. Right now. I could take Rain and make my way to Lingate on my own, leave this horseshit behind. I'm running at full strength thanks to Jagger's blood and skillful hands. I could find my own way into the palace. I could?—

Jagger's groan splits through my thoughts like the sound of a rung bell. My eyes snap back to the fight. Balan is atop Jagger, a blade poised at the corner of his mouth as he reaches for Jagger's tongue like he's going to cut it out.

Instinct barrels over me, a wave of primal energy that drowns out all other thought.

One second, I'm crouched behind the safety of the wall, the next my palm strikes the center of Balan's chest, sending him flying the opposite direction. Jagger is on his feet before I can turn to check on him, blocking a blow from an oncoming attacker, their blades crashing together an inch from my face.

My fangs punch out, adrenaline surging as I throw myself into the heart of the battle. I duck Jagger's second volley, sliding to my knees as I kick out the feet of another one of Balan's men, sending him crashing to the ground. I grip his face, hauling his head up before bouncing it off the cobblestones, a small crack giving beneath the pressure I add to the hit. He's goes limp beneath me, breathing but out cold.

I leap off of him, drawing my daggers from my satchel in one smooth motion. I see Zev's legs buckle under the weight of the men he's fending off. He's beautiful as he fights, all ruthless will and jagged strength. I have no doubt he'll gain the advantage with these men, but something screams at me to not let him do it alone.

Mine.

The word clangs through me as I fight for both of them, my captors for Goddess's sake.

Fuck it, I'll think about that later.

I force it to the back of my mind, giving myself over to the need thrumming through my veins to defend them, and sprint over to Zev.

One of the men has drawn blood. I can smell it.

Zev's blood.

A cut along his shoulder, shallow but enough that my mouth waters at his scent. I snap my arm around the man's neck from behind, hauling him backward as the two of us careen to the cobblestone road. I roll atop him, fangs bared as I snap my teeth and press my dagger against his neck. The drifter almost pisses his pants, and I laugh before slamming the hilt of my dagger into his face hard enough to put him to sleep.

I could kill him. Could kill them all with barely a wave of my hand. My magic is practically begging to burst from my fingertips and put an end to this foolishness.

But I won't be the monster they all think I am.

Besides, who am I to know if Zev and Jagger will pay for it? There has to be some code among drifters, right? Even though Balan and his men seem to have forgotten it if there is one.

Zev grunts, and I spin around just in time to watch him render the last two fighters unconscious. Jagger does the same, and I rush over to where Balan is still unconscious from my blow.

Jagger gets to me first. "You okay, dove?"

I nod, catching my breath.

Zev meets us next, sheathing his sword as he gives me a quick glance. Silent, studying, and then it's done.

"Do we kill them?" I ask, finally breaking the silence as he and Jagger stare at each other.

Zev's eyes widen, and Jagger laughs.

"Not today," he says. "More trouble than it's worth."

I shrug, then move at top speeds to check on Rain. He's good, if not a little jumpy, and right where I left him. I climb back into the saddle, gently slapping the reins, and stop before Zev and Jagger. "Well?" I ask, raising my brows at both their semi-shocked looks. "We don't want to be here when they wake up then, do we?"

Zev blinks up at me, once, twice, then nods. "Hurry."

And we take off into the night.