Part 8 (2/2)

”That's not possible. I've only been with one, and she wouldn't . . .” Would she? Surely Fayle wouldn't have done something like that without his permission?

”Whatever,” Shakvhan muttered. ”But I'm telling you, a succubus formed some sort of bond with you, and it's draining you.”

No. Raze refused to believe it. He must have spoken out loud, because Shakvhan huffed with impatience. ”Has she ever been able to find you, like, out of the blue? Have you ever wanted to get away from her but kept being drawn back to her? Do you put up with things she does and you have no idea why?”

Raze's gut churned. He could answer yes to all of those things. This . . . tether . . . would explain a lot, in fact.

”How can he get rid of it?” Eidolon asked, sparing Raze the humiliation of replying.

Shakvhan shrugged. ”He can kill her. That would sever the link. Or she can remove it herself if she's so inclined.”

Still half-numb with disbelief that Fayle could have done this, Raze asked roughly, ”And if I can't find her?”

”Then it sucks to be you.”

Raze clenched his fists, thinking how lucky it was for Shakvhan that the hospital operated under an antiviolence spell. ”How helpful,” he ground out.

”It's possible,” she said as she opened the door to leave, ”that another bond could break it.”

”Like our mating bond?” Eidolon asked. ”If Raze went through the mating ritual, the bond he forms with another fe-ah, person-could sever the ties he has with the succubus who did this to him?”

”Maybe.” Shakvhan shot Raze a curious look. ”Either way, good luck.”

Raze wasn't overly fond of the doctor, but right now, he'd take all the luck he could get.

Slake had been searching for Fayle for three days, and now, as his deadline was ticking down to the final hours, he'd finally caught a break.

Fayle had led him on a wild-goose chase through the bowels of Sheoul, where he'd gotten close once, in a brothel in the Spectral Abyss. But somehow she'd slipped away only minutes before he'd arrived.

The trail had gone cold for a day, and not even a meeting with a Transylvanian Seer had given him a new direction to take. Failing at that, he'd staked out an underworld pub to rattle some info out of an ugly horned demon who did regular business with Fayle's people.

Big. Fat. Bust.

But today his luck had taken a potentially soul-saving turn. Using a sample of hair he'd found in Fayle's bedroom, he'd paid a Charnel Apostle to perform a location spell.

The succubus was in Amsterdam.

Slake rummaged through his cabin to finish loading a backpack with rope, weapons, and a few spell-bombs that would magically seal rooms and render him, and anyone he touched, temporarily invisible. He glanced at his watch and cursed. He had three hours before Dyre's time limit was up.

As he strode toward the front door, his phone buzzed. Hoping it was Raze, he plucked it from his pocket. His heart gave a huge thump at the message on the screen.

It's Raze. I'm okay. Heading home in a couple of hours. Call me.

Screw calling. Slake needed to see him. To know he was truly okay.

But first, he had to catch Fayle. As he hefted his backpack over his shoulder, the instant, alarming sensation of being watched made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

”h.e.l.lo, Damonia.”

Slake froze in the middle of his living room. Went as still as an angel strangled by its own halo, as the ancient Sheoulic saying went.

No one had called Slake by that name in decades, and only one person was brave enough to try.

But too bad for Gunther that ”brave” was merely another word for foolish.

In one smooth motion, Slake drew a sinisphere from his pocket and pivoted around.

”Dhru'ga.” The whispered command launched the tiny ball at the vampire's blond head.

Gunther easily dodged the weapon . . . until it made a U-turn and punched through his shoulder. He yelped as blood sprayed from the hole that also ruined what was probably a very expensive leather jacket.

Slapping his hand over the puncture, Gunther rounded on Slake. ”What the f.u.c.k?” he yelled, his English accent making him sound almost reasonable, even in his anger. ”A bit unnecessary, don't you think?”

”aUnnecessary' would have been sending an entire swarm of sinispheres at you.” Slake flexed his hand over his pocket and the remaining dozen lethal b.a.l.l.s. ”But don't think I wasn't tempted. Or that I'm still not.” Fury jacked him up so much that he had to relax his jaw in order to continue. ”I told you the last time I saw you that if you came back, I'd put a hole through you. You're lucky it wasn't your skull.”

Gunther hissed, the pearly fangs that used to give Slake so much pleasure glistening. ”You were aiming for my skull.”

”And I'm a little embarra.s.sed by the fact that I missed.” Slake raked Gunther with his gaze, expecting to experience the flutter of attraction he always felt when Gun came crawling back. But this time, all he could do was make comparisons to Raze, and the vampire couldn't match up. Not anymore.

Gunther stood there, his black slacks neatly pressed, his silver b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt so starched it would be afraid to wrinkle. He had always been an impeccable dresser, but then, he'd spent a thousand years acc.u.mulating wealth, knowledge, and taste.

”You could have killed me,” Gunther said, sounding so put out that Slake almost laughed.

”Stop whining. And stop bleeding on my floor. I just had the hardwood refinished.”

”See, that's why our relations.h.i.+p didn't work,” Gunther said, rubbing the puncture in his shoulder. ”You're an a.s.shole.”

”No,” Slake corrected, ”we didn't work because I'm not female, and you couldn't seem to keep your d.i.c.k in your pants.”

Gunther's pale-blue eyes flashed. ”I've changed. I want you back.”

Son of a b.i.t.c.h. Not this rerun again. ”You say that every time.”

”And every time, you fall for it,” Gunther pointed out, still as arrogant as ever.

”Not this time.”

”Uh-huh.” Gunther's skeptical expression p.i.s.sed Slake off. ”And why not this time?”

An image of Raze flashed in his brain, but he quickly shoved it aside. Yes, the Seminus demon had s.e.xed his way into Slake's mind, but more than that, he was tired of not being accepted for what he was. For who he was.

”Because you're never going to be okay with who I am.”

”I fell in love with who you are.”

Slake shook his head. ”You fell in love with who I was on the outside.”

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