Pretty Faces (The Fallen Gods Book 6) Page 2
It’s time to celebrate.
The music pounds through me. Luckily, it’s at a decibel that doesn’t hurt my ears. The pluses of being at a supe club. Some know who I am as soon as I walk in and flee, some avoid me, and others don’t know who I am. I lose myself in their masses. I don’t drink, not ever—it makes you weak, vulnerable, slows down your reflexes—but for a minute, I let my eyes close and I tip my head back, listening to the notes that carry me away.
For a moment, in the writhing bodies of the supes around me, I’m not alone. I’m not a freak, a hunter, a council lackey…I’m Remi.
I feel it then, eyes on me. People avoid my gaze, avoid looking at me, even when they don’t know who I am. It’s a natural response to a predator, but not these eyes. I can feel their hunger, their lust as they lock on my moving body. I tilt my head and use my senses to locate the person—a man, I feel the masculine energy. Opening my eyes, I lock on him instantly. The crowd fades away, all the people around him too, as he stands on the balcony surrounding the dance floor. His hands grip the silver barrier in front of him, and his eyes are only for me, those dark orbs filled with something I can’t understand before it fades to pure fucking desire.
Grinning, I keep my eyes locked on him as I dance. He’s my prey for the night. The one who will replace the meaty dead wolf’s touch. I washed before I came, just because the smell of blood would get everyone riled up, and I slipped into a short, tight black dress. It’s backless, but it has plenty of room to hide weapons, even though they tried to take them from me at the door.
Like that would happen.
Eyes on the man, I move, dancing just for him. He’s good-looking. Not enough scars to get me dripping, but I would definitely sit on his face. He has long blond hair, hanging in waves to his shoulders. He has high cheekbones and a square jaw in an almost boyish face, but those black eyes, completely black, stand out. They’re almost out of place on his face. Inky, dark, hungry, and dangerous. He’s tall, and I can tell he’s got muscle under his shirt and jeans. But it’s those eyes I keep going back to, drawing me in like looking into death itself.
I don’t even know what he is. I try to sort through the scents, but there are too many here. Maybe a shifter? Vamp? No…no fangs. Demon? Maybe. Not that it matters. Tonight, he will be whatever I want him to be, with his cock in my pussy and his blood spilling under my nails.
I wind my hips, dragging my hands up my stomach to cup my breasts and squeeze before I slide them down to my thighs and start to pull up my dress. Those black eyes narrow, and he grips the railing and leaps over it. He lands on the edge of the dance floor without looking away or blinking. I smirk. Oh, this one will be fun.
The people around him back away, some even lowering their heads from the dominance flowing off him in waves. They bump into me, almost pushing me backwards. If I was a weaker shifter, I would be belly down right now, bowing to his power, but instead, I raise my head and keep dancing, teasing him, showing him he has no effect on me.
He might be used to others cowering, but me? Baby, please, I fuck death on the daily.
His lips tip up like he liked that, and he starts to walk towards me, cornering me and barring me in place even as I keep dancing. Everyone moves away, knowing two predators are here and focused on each other. They probably think we’ll fight, but that’s the best bit, fighting or fucking…or both. His dominance surges through me in waves with each step he takes, the swells growing stronger and stronger, pulling a gasp from my lips and a pulse from my pussy.
I’ve never felt power like this before, sheer fucking dominance that almost sends me to my knees, even as I want to kill him for that second of fleeting weakness. Every woman likes to be dominated now and again, but that’s always play for me. No one could ever actually dominate me, I’m too strong. It sounds cocky, but it’s true. However, this one? This one might be able to, and that danger already has me wet.
But who’s the prey here and who’s the predator?
He prowls towards me, hunting me through the crowd that parts for him. When he’s almost here, I turn and start to stroll through the crowd. They separate around me as I move slowly across the dance floor and up the three steps. I know he’s following when I reach the door to the back hallway. It’s restricted, but I rip it open and slip inside, hearing it slam shut behind me. The sound is loud, cutting off the music apart from the low bass as I turn and stand in the middle of the deserted corridor.
He’s coming for me.
The thought sends a shiver of excitement and desire through my body. The door opens a minute later, the strobe lights framing him, flashing across those black eyes. He purposely steps into the corridor and lets the door crash closed behind him. He doesn’t speak, but neither do I. I don’t want words. I want action. I want dirty sex. I want pussy destroying orgasms without niceties or small talk.
We are just two strangers, but tonight, I’m going to be his everything, and by morning, I’ll be gone again.
One moment, we are motionless, and the next, we explode into action, meeting in the middle. Our lips crash together, our teeth clicking. Our hands roam, exploring each other quickly. He squeezes my ass and slides his hands down my sides as he kisses me hard, backing me down the corridor. I drag my hand down his chest and cup his hard cock through his jeans, feeling the hitch in his breath. I hear the slamming of his heart and almost taste the rush of his blood through his body, heading straight to his huge cock.
Hunger consumes us.
Need.
Desire.
It’s a battle of give and take. We’re both fighting for dominance. He throws me into the wall, yanking my dress up before I kick him back to the other wall and leap. He catches me, turns, and slams me against it as I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck.
He growls into my mouth, biting my lower lip until I taste my blood mingling with our tangling tongues. It has me moaning and grinding against his cock as I tear at his shirt, pulling it off his built chest and scraping my nails down his back, cutting his skin. He groans and presses his cock harder against my pussy to the point of pain as the scent of his blood fills the air. It makes me freeze for a moment because it smells wrong. He tastes different…I expected something else. The blood is stronger, dissimilar, than the body.
But he distracts me, stopping my turbulent thoughts. He cups my wet pussy through my panties, rubbing me as he swallows my groans. Quickly, he replaces his hand with his cock, grinding against me as his hands grip the top of my dress and rip, spilling my breasts into the air. My nipples harden, and his mouth breaks from mine before sucking one tight bud between his lips as my breath catches. My head drops back as I dry hump him.
Fuck, he’s going to be so good, I can tell. He nips my nipple, and I shove it deeper into his mouth. “More,” I demand, and he snarls and bites down, jerking a cry from my lips as the smell of my blood fills the air and mixes with his.
Pushing him back, I drop to my feet as he stumbles into the other wall, his lips open in a pant, his chest heaving, his blood covering his lips and dripping down his side, his dark eyes wide with lust. I press myself to his front, tearing off the buttons of his jeans as I stick my hand inside and grip his huge, hard cock. His eyes shut as he shivers, pressing into the wall as he struggles to stand while I stroke and squeeze.
“Fuccck,” he hisses.
Dropping to my knees, I press kisses to his abs before nipping at the skin, feeling his cock twitch in my hand. Oh yeah. This one likes pain. This is going to be incredible. I pull down his jeans just enough to lick along the tip of his leaking cock, and his flavour explodes in my mouth.
He tastes like death.
Pain.
Darkness.
I still as I roll my eyes up to his. Usually I don’t care, I wouldn’t ask, wanting this cock inside me, but something deep within me roars to the surface. My animals break free for a moment as those black eyes open and meet my gaze.
“What are you?” I purr.
&nbs
p; He freezes, and one second, I’m about to suck his dick, then the next, I’m thrown to my ass with my dress bunched around my waist and my tits in the air and he’s gone, the fire exit at the bottom of the corridor slamming open from the force.
Wide-eyed, I stare at the empty space where the man once stood.
What the fuck just happened?
Worse yet, I didn’t even get a goddamn orgasm, and it would have been a good one. Groaning, I pull down my dress as I get to my feet. My phone buzzes, so I pull it free of the clip on my leg, and my heart stops.
My blood turns cold.
New contract.
I open the picture and there, staring back at me, is the man I almost just fucked, but in the picture, he has bright blue eyes.
Wanted dead or alive. 12 mil. Do you accept?
My eyes dart to the door and back to my phone before I hit the green accept button.
It’s time to hunt.
KHALID
I only stop sprinting when I’m over two miles away. Panting hard, I press my face against the cool wall of the alley I find myself in. I shout out my frustration, smashing my fist into the brick over and over until it explodes, and then I stumble back. My hand is broken, blood pouring from it, but my cock is still hard.
The taste of her is on my tongue, the feel of her curves, her pussy, and her breasts branded into me in a way no other woman ever could be.
My mate.
She was my mate, the one I left all those years ago. I knew when she walked into that club. I was supposed to be hunting, but my full attention went to her and nothing else mattered. Everything became still as I watched her dance and move like fucking water, so goddamn beautiful it hurt.
She’s grown, she’s an adult now…and irresistible.
When I first saw her, she was a child, and I knew she would ruin my life the way I would ruin hers…but tonight, I realised the truth—she wouldn’t just ruin me, she would kill me. One look into those captivating mismatched eyes, one taste of those plump, rosy lips, and I was hers forever.
I would die for her.
Kill for her.
Burn the world for her.
Anything she asked.
I was helpless. I had to move closer. All those years of resisting, of telling myself it couldn’t possibly be, every excuse and lie, it all faded when she locked eyes with me. I couldn’t stop myself, so I followed her. I kissed her, touched her…and I would have fucked her had she not spoken, breaking the spell of lies I wove around myself.
Pulling me from my own selfish desires.
Why was she there? I slam my hand into the opposite wall, and with a crumble of rock, it explodes. My head drops back, and I scream, the face I wore melting from my own as my black eyes home in on the moon, and for a second, I let the true me come out.
For one moment, and then I yank the other face back on like a security blanket. She didn’t even know it was me, her mate. Wouldn’t even know what I looked like. No, she wanted this form, nothing more. She didn’t know the monster she tempted, the one she tasted, cut, and almost took into her body.
She didn’t know what she would have unleashed on this world.
Or on herself.
Once I have her, she would never be able to escape. I have to leave now and get as far away from her as I can before I give in to all those years of regret and longing and beg my mate to have me.
No.
She doesn’t deserve that, doesn’t deserve the crazy I carry around. She deserves someone who can control the urge to kill, to feed, and not hurt.
She deserves someone sane…not this fallen god.
Yet…I can’t leave.
I can’t. One touch, and I’m unable to walk away. One taste, and my resistance is melting, my body trying to pull me towards her.
Unable to help myself, since I have to know she’s okay, I head back to the club and wait for her to leave. Luckily, when she departs, she goes home alone, otherwise I would have to kill him. She takes a taxi back to a house on a busy city street. It looks the same as the others—three stories, red brick, flowers on the front stoop. She gets out and pays and glances back, almost meeting my eyes in the dark space between the two buildings across the street where I stand.
She smirks and heads inside, the door shutting behind her, and still I stay. Did she know I was here? That’s not possible, right? I grab my phone and dial the number I know by heart, hoping he can shed some light on what the fuck she’s doing here away from the pack. It’s a number I haven’t dialled in over ten years. I haven’t called it since it became too much to hear about my mate, knowing I would never be in her life.
“Khalid,” he answers, his voice tired and cold.
“Why is she here?” I snap.
“Here where?” he asks with a yawn.
“Cut the shit, Thomas. Why the fuck isn’t she with the pack? You gave me your promise you would watch over her,” I snarl, my eyes fastened on the building as lights flicker on inside.
“Khalid…I couldn’t reach you, your number changes so much. Fuck, I don’t know how to say this,” he mutters, and I hear rustling, no doubt him sitting up in bed. “She left.”
“Left?” I repeat slowly, dangerously. “No shit. Why?”
“Well, erm, the pack kicked her out.”
I snarl, and before I can leave to kill them, he carries on.
“It’s fine, I got her a job, but you’re not going to like it. Khalid, it’s with the council. They wanted her, they noticed her…skills and power.”
“What skills?” I demand, my blood turning cold.
The council?
“It’s hard to explain, but she didn’t fit here anymore. If she stayed, they would have killed her. It was getting bad. I lost my seat as alpha. I couldn’t keep her alive anymore. It was the only way. You know they always get what they want. I tried to stop her, to convince her not to, but she did it anyways. She’s a hunter for them. She hunts supes for the council.”
I stumble back slightly, staring at the now dark house in shock. When I left, she was a kid with a future ahead of her. She was to marry a wolf and settle down, make pups and live her life never knowing about me. Yet here my mate is, beautiful, deadly…
And now my fucking enemy. What the fuck do I do?
REMI
Sitting up slightly, I cross my legs under me as I sip the warm tea. My laptops, both of them, are open and searching for my next target. Background checks, cameras, credit cards, houses…hell, even arrest warrants and credit scores. I like to know every single thing about them. What kind of porn they like, if they hit their spouses, everything, and then I use it against them and kill them.
And yeah, it feels a little personal. I almost fucked this man, and now he turns up on my hit list? I need this to be over swiftly before the council finds out. Pissing them off will only lead to a headache.
Just because I work for them doesn’t mean I like them. In the beginning, I had no choice. Work for them and be protected, or be a cast out, a stray. Strays don’t last long, especially women. They taught me to fight, to hunt, and to track. They paid me and gave me a home. I know they aren’t good people, but they aren’t all bad either, and at least with me hunting for them, stopping supes who are killing others and humans, I might just be making a difference. Plus, I get to curb my bloodlust without turning into a serial killer, which is always good.
My systems are running, so I lean back and sip my tea, looking out of the front bay window—bulletproof, of course, and filled with silver. It will stop shifters, but not me. For some reason, it never bothered me, just another abnormality to add to my lovely, odd qualities. Underneath the window is a deep green ottoman, which is filled with bombs, grenades, and extra weapons.
Weapons are hidden in every place I could find, just in case I’m attacked. There are alarms, cameras, and even a fucking safe room. I spent all my money on this house—it’s a fucking fortress. From the outside, it’s like any other, but inside…it’s my safe place. I can’t run wild
with the packs, I can’t let my animal…animals be free, but I can give them this—a safe place to shift, a place where they can rest and relax, knowing they won’t be attacked, hurt, or betrayed.
The fluffy carpet under my left foot grounds me as I dig my bare toes into it near the roaring fire. I run hot anyway and never really get cold, but something about the smell of the logs, ash, and smoke makes me think of better times. Simpler times. The mantle around it is black and gold with two swords crossed above it. My two green sofas are comfy and wide, and a TV hides in the huge, old-style cupboard in the corner.
The ceilings are high and filled with beautiful patterns and architecture, and also two golden chandeliers which, yes, house weapons. They also hide microphones and cameras.
Furniture and function, baby.
In the basement, I have my gym and training center with my knife throwing practice ring, my dummies, my shooting range, and so much more. On this floor are my kitchen and safe room, which is hidden behind a panel in the wall. Up the curving wooden stairs and on the second floor is my bedroom. The only bedroom. I knocked down the walls. Shifters love wide-open spaces, after all. The bed is close to the floor and covers nearly all the back wall, big enough to sleep on, even when I shift.
There are rugs and another fireplace up there. At night, the ceiling lights up with stars, and there are trees painted on the walls. I created my very own forest, since I can never go back into one. There is an adjoined balcony with secured double doors, an en suite, and of course, a walk-in wardrobe which is filled with my hunting outfits, leather, braces, dresses, wigs, and everything else I need to fit in anywhere in this world.
The stairs lead up from my bedroom to my armoury and command center, and above that is the roof—my favourite place. I can taste the air, the freedom while still being safe. There is a pool up there, too, which I designed to look like a river with rocks and outcroppings. There are plants and flowers to hide and roll in, grass also, and a small table with lights strung up around the pillars above it for when I feel like sitting up there and watching the world go by.