CHAPTER THREE

Taking in the scene, Viper wanted to groan. The universe couldn't have just let her get in her car and drive home, could it? No, it had to make sure she stumbled into yet another ‘situation'.

"Something was just here," Ella went on in that low and scratchy voice, dropping her arms to her sides. "I don't know if they killed him in this spot or dumped him here, but … "

"I believe you." Viper crossed to the corpse with his brothers at his back. He instantly recognized the body as belonging to one of the missing humans. The guy looked surprisingly peaceful, his eyes closed, his face free of lines.

There were no signs of torture. No tears in, or stains on, his clothes. The only visible injuries were on his neck—four pairs of puncture wounds.

"He's been dead a day or so," noted Darko, crouching beside the body.

If Viper remembered rightly, this particular human had vanished a week ago. So where had he been all that time?

Viper met Ella's gaze again—and sexual connection slammed into him, making his body go tight and his blood go hot. Her eyelids flickered, telling him she wasn't unaffected by the close-up eye contact either. His entity grinned, liking that.

"You said something was just here," Viper prompted.

She nodded. "He had red eyes. Seriously pale skin. Long nails. And he hissed at me like an honest to God's cat. Then he morphed into a bat and flew away. As you do." She twisted her lips. "I'm thinking vampire."

Some vampires could shapeshift, and one of the three vampiric breeds did in fact boast red irises. But they typically didn't go around senselessly killing humans.

There was another creature, however, who fit the physical description she'd reeled off. A creature who could shift into bats, would kill without thought, and needed no motivation to do so.

"He didn't touch you?" Viper checked.

"He went to pounce, but when I struck out with magick he shifted into a bat to evade it. I'm an incantor," she added, as if to explain why she could call on magick.

"I know."

Her eyelids lowered slightly. "How do you know?"

Viper let his lips curl. "I pay attention when something or someone intrigues me." He saw no harm in making his interest in her clear now. It would give her some time to get accustomed to it.

"Huh," was all she said, clearly thrown by his blunt response—just as she'd always been in her past life.

He wanted to smile, finding her cute as fuck when she was off-balance. But right now, what he wanted most was to get her away from this scene—there was no need for her to be further touched by this matter.

Viper tipped his chin toward the parking lot. "Go. We'll handle this."

A line dented her brow. "But—"

"This happened on our turf. It's for us to deal with."

Her delicious mouth tightened. "If there's a human-killing vamp on the loose—"

"They won't live long," he stated firmly.

Visibly reluctant, she glanced down at the human. "You swear you'll find out who did this?"

Viper felt his brows inch up. "You think we'd overlook it?"

"What I think is that a lot of the preternatural population wouldn't much care about the death of a human."

She wasn't wrong. "I'd be lying if I said I'm aching to avenge him, but what I won't tolerate is anyone dumping corpses on my doorstep. So yes, I will find out who did this. It won't be overlooked."

She exhaled heavily. "All right." She moved as if to leave, but then instead held her hand out to him. "I'm Ella."

I know, baby. I know a whole lot about you. "Viper," he said, letting his hand swallow hers, both comforted and enlivened by the zap of static that bounced from their palms. It startled a silent gasp from her, but she didn't pull back. Neither did he.

Decades. He hadn't been this close to her in fucking decades. It had felt more like centuries. Her soul might wear a different body this time, but it didn't matter. She was still her. Still belonged to him. And it was all he could do not to yank her to him and devour her mouth.

"You'll definitely take care of this?" she double-checked.

Viper forced himself to allow her palm to slip out of his grasp. "It'll be handled."

"Okay." She spared his brothers a quick look and then left.

Viper watched her stride out of the alley, knots forming in his stomach with each bit of distance she placed between them. His entity bared its teeth, annoyed that he'd let her walk away. Much like Jester, it saw no reason why they couldn't claim her now.

Only once she was out of sight did Viper return his attention to his brothers. "Anyone think they know the cause of death?"

It was Darko who responded. "My guess? Exsanguination. The body's almost empty of blood."

"A vamp wouldn't drink a human near to death unless they were converting them," said Razor.

"But a strix would," Viper pointed out.

Darko rose to his feet. "That fits."

Human mythology often confused the two species. Unlike vampires, strix were never human. Nor were they immortal. These creatures were born in hell and all typically looked alike—tall figures, dark hair, red eyes, long fingernails, canine fangs, skin so pale it was almost translucent. They had various abilities, including the power to shift into bats, owls, or even mist.

"I hate to be the voice of doom and gloom," began Darko, "but there's never a lone strix, so I doubt only one escaped from hell. There'll be a colony. One it's safe to say is responsible for the recent human disappearances."

"And they know we're here." Dice waved a hand at the corpse. "This is a taunt. A gauntlet. Their queen is basically pitting the colony against us."

"I accept her challenge," Viper muttered darkly.

Colonies were usually made up of around seventy strix. Though there were generally more males, their societies were largely matriarchal. Females held higher positions and were often warriors, though they rarely fought except in situations of war. Males served mostly as hunters and protectors.

"The strix probably felt drawn here by you," mused Omen, looking at Viper. "Or, more to the point, drawn by what you are."

"Probably." Staring down at the puncture wounds on the dead human, Viper didn't doubt there were more wounds. Victims were often covered in bites, because many of the colony would descend on them all at once.

Strix rarely drained their prey of blood in one sitting, though. They were known to keep several humans around at a time, drawing out each one's inevitable death.

Ghost folded his arms. "If the other missing humans aren't already dead, they soon will be. And the strix will no doubt dump them near or on our properties."

"We need to track and kill them," said Jester. "Fucking hate strix."

"Are we much different from them?" Viper asked. "We prey on people like parasites. We can't survive without the life-force of others. We're addicts for whom there is peace only in death."

The Fallen were pariahs even among monsters. Unnatural due to their curse, they belonged on no realm. Had no ‘place'. They were not angel, demon, or vampire, but they possessed the dark qualities of all three.

Drinking from animals did nothing for them, so they didn't have the option of sticking to what would emotionally be an easier diet to handle. Their prey had to be people—whether human or preternatural.

Dice gave him a grave look. "We don't kill those we feed from. We don't make our bites painful. We don't enjoy the hunt. And we never touch children."

All true. The strix, by contrast, had no self-control or humanity. Their primal appetite overwhelmed them. But when the Fallen were in bloodlust, the same could be said about them.

Bloodlust could strike them any time, whether they fed regularly or not. Mindless as they were when bloodlust struck, they had to be confined during such times. There was no avoiding it, no ‘fixing' it, no snapping a person out of it. They just had to let it run its course.

Darko gestured at the dead human. "What do we do with him?"

"We let him be found far from here, but not in this state," Viper replied. "Put him in either a vacant house or a car and set it alight. We don't want anything but dental records IDing him." More to the point, they didn't want any preternatural evidence on his person.

"Done," said Dice with a nod.

Ghost looked to the end of the alley and then back at Viper. "I guess we were wrong in thinking she wouldn't get caught up in our newest issue. It's probably best that you've held back. If the strix are watching us, they would see you with her."

"You know, V, with the way she looks at you … You're sure it's not possible that she remembers you?"

"Yes." Though people retained memories from their past lives, they didn't consciously have access to them—such memories were carved into their soul, not lodged in their brain. Still, they could meet a person from a past life and feel an instant familiarity with them; could feel they'd met them before, or simply be at total ease in their company.

But this couldn't apply to Ella, because … "When those fuckers upstairs scrubbed the imprint of me from her soul, they scrubbed away the memories there as well."

Ghost bit into the inside of his cheek. "There's a chance they didn't scrub hard enough."

"They would have been thorough. They wanted no trace of me to linger on her soul."

"Doesn't mean they effectively erased all of those traces," Ghost insisted. "Fragments could remain."

Razor nodded. "You kept your distance from her, but you've been in her periphery. It might have shaken the memories loose. It would only have been on a subconscious level, but still."

"She loved you, V," said Dice. "Loved you enough that she didn't care you'd need blood to survive—she was all in. I personally don't think it'd be so easy to rid a soul of every memory of someone they loved that hard, powerful archangels on the case or not."

A warm mouth pressed hot, damp kisses to the back of her shoulder, lulling her out of sleep. Her eyes closed, she frowned and shifted slightly.

"Morning, baby," a deep voice breathed.

Everleigh writhed, restless, as he trailed kisses all over her back. He took his time, exploring and marking everywhere he could reach, causing her anticipation to rise and rise.

Fingertips danced down the side of her breast as his hand slid down, down, down … and dived into the back of her shorts. She bucked as one finger swiped between her folds.

"Slick for me already." His warm breath fanned her ear as he lowered his broad body onto her. "That's because you know you're mine."

Two fingers sank inside her, and she inhaled sharply. Then those fingers were moving. Swirling. Plunging. Scissoring.

A soft but guttural growl sounded in her ear as she lifted her hips to meet each thrust. "Yeah, take it," he urged.

Moaning, she scratched at the bedsheet, loving the feel of those clever fingers slicing into her again and again. As his mouth latched onto her pulse, she tilted her head to give him better access to her neck. His tongue licked. Teeth nipped. Words of praise were whispered against her skin. The friction inside her built and built and built.

Then she came. Hard.

He hummed. "That's my baby." Gentling kisses were pressed to the back of her shoulder. "Now it's my turn."

Waking to the beeping of her alarm, Ella blindly reached out and switched off the offensive noise. Fuzzy snippets in her mind's eye plucked at her attention. Erotic snippets. She tried grabbing on to the threads of her dream, but they slipped away too fast.

Damn, if she was dreaming about getting laid, she definitely needed to give her libido some action soon.

She wasn't someone who typically had those kinds of dreams. Though … there had been one several months ago. She couldn't remember it well. There'd been a mouth trailing kisses up her back until it reached her ear. Then a voice had rumbled, "Found you." She'd woken with a start.

Weird, to say the least.

Rubbing at her tired eyes, Ella edged out of bed and then began her morning routine—paid a visit to her small but bright en suite bathroom, got dressed in her cozy bedroom that was all cool blues and greens, and then headed down to her dark-wooded, plant-dominated kitchen. Once she'd tossed back a cup of tea and chowed down a bowl of oatmeal, she left the apartment.

As usual, she found Mia waiting for her in the lobby. They often rode to work together, and they'd alternate on who would drive. This morning, it was Ella's turn.

Mia pushed off the cream leather sofa, her brow pinching. "You look tired again."

"I had another restless night's sleep." Lately, she'd been plagued by dreams she couldn't remember on waking. "Ready to go?"

"Yup."

As they drove, Mia nattered about a TV series she was binge-watching. Ella nodded and smiled, but her mind drifted back to the previous night. It should be the poor deceased human who snatched her thoughts, but no. It was Viper.

His hyper-intense gaze had pinned hers with a hormone-melting focus. Always did. The very first time they'd locked gazes many months ago, for a single moment, she'd had the thought that she knew those eyes. They'd somehow seemed familiar.

Last night, her pulse had jumped when his hand engulfed hers. Ella wasn't the type to get all flustered and nervous around guys, but Viper did things to her head. And ovaries. Oh, her poor ovaries.

Her demon was intrigued by him but also wary. He was one of the Fallen, after all. And her entity didn't quite trust how very aware Ella's body was of this perfect stranger.

He'd been a little too slow in releasing her hand, but she'd chosen not to call him on it. Mostly because she hadn't been in any rush to walk away.

One thing had been kind of weird … When she'd shaken hands with Viper, the VP had worn a weird ‘fucking finally' expression. Like he'd been eager for them to meet.

"You've zoned out, haven't you?" accused Mia.

Her mind flicking back to the present, Ella cast her sister a quick look. "Sorry. It's just that something odd happened last night."

Mia tilted her head. "What?"

"I saw a vampire."

"A vampire?"

"And he wasn't a very nice one. Looked kind of, I don't know, feral." Ella hadn't come across many vamps in her time, but the ones she'd met had behaved like regular people to a large extent. They'd blended well while walking among humans, hiding fangs with closed-mouthed smiles and concealing oddly-colored irises with sunglasses. The guy she'd come upon last night had been very different.

"Feral?" Mia echoed, twisting to better face Ella. "In what way?"

"He hissed at me. He had weirdly long nails. And get this: he shifted into a bat. An actual bat."

Mia's lips parted. "When did this happen?"

"In the alley outside the pool hall. I caught him dumping a dead human there. He wasn't pleased that I'd spotted him. He might have pounced on me if I hadn't given him a little magickal demonstration."

"He might have killed you, and you didn't think to lead with that?" Mia asked, the bite of disbelief in her voice.

Ella shrugged. "I said he might have, not that he tried. Anyway, the Black Saints appeared. Viper assured me he'd deal with it."

A slow smile curved Mia's lips. "Oh, you talked a little with Viper, huh?"

"Briefly." Ella shifted gears as she sped up, contemplating whether to add his little implication that she'd piqued his interest …

"It's such a shame that he's one of the Fallen. I mean, I don't hold their nature against them—or what others of their kind have done. But there'd be no wisdom in a demon getting involved with one."

Ella pressed her lips shut, deciding to keep Viper's intriguing little comment to herself. "Agreed," she eventually said. Begrudgingly. Very, very begrudgingly.

A short time later, she parked in the lot outside a club that happened to be built on top of the Underground's entrance. After a quick venture down to the basement, she and Mia were descending an elevator that took them to a subterranean version of the Las Vegas strip that catered to the dark and addictive natures of demons.

Walking side by side, they passed an endless number of businesses—bars, eateries, casinos, stores, a mall. There were various forms of entertainment down here, including racing stadiums for hellhounds and hellhorses.

Finally, they arrived at their herbalist store. A pretty From the Wilde sign hung above the door. It sold a whole lot of stuff such as seeds and herbs, many of which were either enchanted or could be used when practicing magick.

They also sold all-natural products like soap bars, aftershave balm, beard oil, facial cleanser, and shampoo. All were made using pure essential oils, other natural ingredients, and a little magick.

Stepping inside the store, Ella smiled. The bright and earthy color scheme went well with the witchy feel of the place. Some aisles featured bath and skincare products. Others had shelves lined with glass jars, elixirs, pastes, oils, clay pots, various plants, and even medicinal tea blends.

Strong scents danced in the air. Mint. Herbs. Honey. Fragrant plants. Soaps made from oils such as mango and coconut.

Their mother Elodie and aunt Jocelyn made the soaps etc., and they operated from a small workshop at the back of the store. Which was exactly where Ella found them.

Opposite to the store, the workshop was on the messy side. Bunches of dried herbs and flowers dangled from the ceiling. Pots of cream, powders, grease, and other ingredients were propped on shelves in no particular order. Garlic braids hung from precarious-looking hooks on the wall. Despite the clutter, the workshop was pristine clean. The sisters were big on cleanliness, but they thrived on chaos.

Jocelyn stood at one of the four counters, carefully pouring black powder from a bowl into a jar. Melodie was busy putting the finishing touches to what looked exactly like a three-tiered cake, only it wasn't really a cake. It was slabs of pastel pink soap covered in colorful decorative flowers that were mini bath bombs.

Unlike Ella and Mia, the two sisters didn't bear a very close resemblance. Melodie was tall and curvy with blood-red hair. Jocelyn was medium height with a slim frame and curly auburn locks. But they both had the same blue eyes and sharp cheekbones.

"Morning," Ella called out, making the women's heads snap up.

Melodie smiled. "Morning, my babies."

"The cake looks good," said Mia.

"Of course it does." Melodie gave Ella the side-eye. "Heard you came upon another wraith problem yesterday."

"Oh, yesterday got even weirder later on." Ella lifted an open jar filled with honeycomb from the counter and took a sniff. "I actually came upon a vampire dumping a body in an alley."

Jocelyn sighed, her expression droll. "And of course you were the one to find it. Where exactly was this alley?"

"Outside the pool hall," Ella replied.

"The one the Black Saints bought? They also got their hands on the dive bar next-door, you know. Angels in the Underground." Jocelyn shook her head, her mouth tight in displeasure. "Your uncle would be rolling in his grave."

"He's not dead yet," Mia told her.

Jocelyn's brow furrowed. "He's not? But I thought he died, I'm enjoying being a widow."

Ella stifled a smile. Most of their lair lived in Idaho, but the four of them had relocated to Las Vegas years ago after Jocelyn's mate left her for her best friend. Predictably, Jocelyn hadn't reacted well. Some curses had been cast, and everyone—including the Prime of their lair—had deemed it a good idea for Jocelyn to put some miles between her and her ex-mate.

"I heard through the demonic grapevine that he met his end at the hands of a Prime he'd wronged," Jocelyn went on.

Mia's shoulders lifted and fell as she leaned against the butcher's block table. "Last I heard, he was living in Ohio and had angry imps on his ass."

"Then he won't be alive for much longer," said Melodie, giving her sister's back a soothing pat. "The imps will see to it. On that happy note, let's officially open the store, shall we?"

"Before we do," began Jocelyn, looking from Ella to Mia, "you should know that Dionne called to say she can't come to work today—apparently, she's having another severe migraine."

Ella felt her lips thin. She'd had the occasional migraine herself, so she knew they were beasts. And if she truly believed that Dionne was regularly afflicted by them, she'd greatly sympathize and totally understand why the woman begged off work so often. But that was the thing, she didn't believe it. Because one too many times she'd bumped into the woman here in the Underground on days Dionne was supposedly unable to get out of bed.

"A migraine," Mia echoed, clearly doubtful. "Right."

"Honestly, it sometimes seems like she's pushing us to fire her. But why not just quit?" Ella didn't get it.

"No idea," said Mia. "Whatever the case, we've warned her she needs to step up. She hasn't. She always says she will, but it's clear that she has no real intention to do so. We have to let her go."

Ella nodded. "We'll do it Monday."

Their mother gave a satisfied nod. "Let's get moving, then."