Blood and Ruin (Blood and Ruin Series Book 1)

The beat of the music ripples through me as I get closer to Club Prestige, the club under King’s Tower.

Jeromy, a bear shifter, is guarding the doors tonight. He’s quiet enough and keeps to himself most days but he follows the other guards blindly and can be easily led astray. Never questioning their commands or shady behaviour. So even though, he comes across as a semi-decent guy, I couldn’t trust him with anything.

He gives me an appreciative once-over as I walk up to him. “Looking fine as always, Kiarra.”

I give him a bland look in an attempt to prevent any further conversation. I’d learned early on not to talk to King’s guards. As soon as they found out just how little power I had or how little King cared for my wellbeing, they started getting a little too handsy.

Though my ice queen attitude usually deterred them from trying anything further, many still tried to push the boundaries, testing what they could get away with.

Waiting on Jeromy to open the door, I find his eyes fixated on my ass. Gripping my small purse, I stop myself from yanking the dress down a little further.

“The door, Jeromy.” I tilt my head toward it, hoping he’d hurry the fuck up.

“Huh?” His doe eyes look up, finding my glare.

“Oh, sorry.” He rushes over and puts the code in before holding the door open.

“Have a good night.”

Just as I pass him, I hear a low groan. “You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

Rolling my eyes, I ignore his comment knowing it won’t be the last one tonight, all thanks to this fucking dress.

Green and blue lights bounce from the wide-open ceiling across to the crowded dance floor.

Club Prestige is the hot spot for supernatural’s and humans alike. That is, the selected ones King chooses to allow in. All powerful in their own right and right under King’s thumb, just the way he liked it.

I live above the damn place and still need to be let in by his guards. King trusts no one, least of all me, and he’d be right in doing so.

I head towards the bar giving the bartender a nod. Her short purple hair was styled to the side revealing a witches emblem tattooed on the side of her neck.

Jazmyn is an empathic witch and someone I had luckily stumbled across a few months ago. Our paths aligned, and we both got something we needed out of it.

As soon as she sees me, she waves me over.

“Hey, I have that drink you ordered.” She begins to pour a shot glass of golden-brown liquid, subtly nodding her head toward the end of the table where King’s guards where watching.

We needed to be careful with what we said, got it.

My heart starts racing, a nervous excitement flowing through me waiting for some good news.

“Single malt whiskey, as requested. That shit was hard to find and went a little over budget. You sure you can handle it?”

Meaning the contact wanted more than expected. Luckily, I was used to being fucked over and learned the hard way to always have a back-up plan in place.

I grasp the drink in my hand and salute her before knocking it back without hesitation. I wince a little as the burn travels down my throat. “A little overpriced but not bad. I hope you got at least two bottles of this?”

“I did, but it’s not gonna last much longer in these conditions.” Meaning the contact wasn’t going to stick around longer than tonight. I’d have to move my timeline up a bit, but it was doable.

I slide her across the empty glass. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it sorted.”

She gives me a look, making sure I still want to go through with everything.

“Good. Keep an eye out, there’s a fox around.”

The reality of what she was saying hit me like a tonne of bricks. The spell was nearly complete. Three weeks from now, and Alana and I would be out of here.

“Thanks.”

She nods her head, pouring me out my usual drink.

“Enjoy your night. Kane will keep an eye out.”

I send her a small smile, thanking her.

Kane was Jazmyn’s boyfriend. No one dared even look at her with Kane around keeping them all in check. He also looked out for any of the humans who managed to sneak in, usually on the arm of some well-off supe using them as eye candy. The vamps included.

Some humans think they’ll get a glimpse of Prestige, have a good night, and then head back home to tell their friends all about their little adventure but they never make it out of this place. There’s a reason Prestige is known for its exclusivity.

Heading around the bustle of people, I find a quiet spot near the edge of the dance floor. I sip my cocktail, still feeling a light buzz from the whiskey and keep watch for my contact.

I spot Kane near one of the VIP areas up above, watching and listening with his keen demon senses.

A small smile tilts my lips as I watch his eyes drift over to Jazmyn every couple of minutes. I hoped everything worked out for them both. Witch and Demon relations weren’t the best right now, even in the Cardinal Three.

Staten Island’s leaders were pushing for all demons and witches to return home, branding those that stay in King’s territory a traitor.

If they only knew the truth. But even if they could leave, they couldn’t go back.

Witches and demons weren’t allowed to be together because of the powerful offspring they produced. The last hybrid nearly decimated Chicago. But one bad egg shouldn’t get to decide what happens to everyone else. No one was truly good or bad, we were full of shadows and varied versions of greys.

Apart from King’s tag, they were stuck here until they found a place that accepts them and their choice.

Shaking off my sombre thoughts, I look around the packed club trying to figure out how I’d find a fox. Just like their animal counterparts, fox shifters were notoriously sly and sneaky. If it was anyone who could sneak into Prestige and go unnoticed, it was a fox shifter.

The club was packed tonight. More so than usual. How the hell was I going to spot him in this mass?

I drum my fingers on the table, keeping an eye out for someone shifty.

“Hey doll, how about you come over here and keep us company?”

I slowly count backwards from ten, trying to conjure up the mental capacity I needed to deal with whoever this idiot was. Maybe if I ignore them, they’ll go awa—

“Hey, I’m talking to you!”

Releasing a sigh, I turn and find a group of humans. High profiled politicians by the looks of it.

One of the older guys stumbles toward me, swaying slightly as he stands close. Jet black hair covered his head, the colour an unnatural deep blue with patches of grey sneaking out. His eyes are glossy as he tries to focus on one part of me. No wrinkles were on his face, but his neck and hands told me his true age.

“How much for the hour?”

I try to stop the small twitch forming in the corner of my eye.

Of course, a girl alone in a short dress means I’m a hooker.

Judgmental assholes.

“Not an escort.”

“Ah come on, I’ll make it worth your while.” He takes out his wallet, as if that’s going to change my mind. The smug look on his face pisses me off more.

“Not interested.” Turning back to the dance floor, I zone out the idiot, counting down the minutes before I can make a quick exit, when I feel the tip of a finger on my arm.

I whip around finding the moron who prepositioned me not two seconds ago.

“Come on, name your price?” Slurring his words, the stench of his stale breath hits me. He raises a brow thinking money will buy him an in.

“I said, I’m not interested. Now get the fuck away from me.” My hands start to shake from holding in the slow rage starting to build, needing some form of physical outlet. This idiot’s face was starting to look like a good target.

He releases a long sigh. “Well… I didn’t want to do this, but… you’re really not supposed to be in here.”

He leans in, his stale breath wafting over me. “But… if you decide to have some fun, I’ll keep this little secret between us.”

Not only does this dick think I’m paid for hire, but he assumes I’m human. I guess I might as well be since my only ability is being able to heal myself. Other than that, I was useless.

Taking a step closer, he makes a show of checking me out, slowly. Bile rises, threatening to expel over the creep and his ugly expensive loafers.

“We’ll have some fun. I promise.”

I push down the bile threatening to rise from my throat and instead focus on the hot blood building in my veins. I had reached my limit of assholes this week. I grip my fists tight, the slow rage bubbling just beneath the surface, but… Alana.

I couldn’t jeopardise her safety, not even if this dick deserved someone putting him in his place. If I wanted everything to go smoothly from here, until we got out, I couldn’t risk drawing King’s attention too closely.

Something told me King would get along with this creep and either way it would end up being my fault. If he found out I’d broke the fucker’s nose, the time it took for me to heal from one of his little sessions, wouldn’t be worth it.

I step back as he reaches up to touch my face. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

“I said don’t fucking touch me.” Just because I wouldn’t fuck up his face, didn’t mean I’d sit here and let him grope me.

A flicker of violence slashes through his eyes before he covers it with a psychotic smile. Speaking through his teeth, he snarls, “We both know you’re coming with me. So, drop the little bitch attitude and smile.”

I bite my tongue tasting blood. Of course, I’m a bitch for telling this slimy asshole, no.

Glancing around quickly, I spot a couple of King’s guards watching, a smug smirk on their faces as they look on.

Gritting my teeth, I turn back to the pervert and try to think of how to get away from him. One that didn’t include ruining his botoxed face.

Clenching my jaw, I steel myself, knowing this is the best way to escape him without King’s guards being called over.

Pasting on a fake smile, I step into him hiding my revulsion and trying not to recoil when he moves closer.

“You’re right. How about you get me another drink and we can get this party started?” I give him a look, feigning to be sweet and innocent.

His glassy eyes dilate as his smile grows.

“That’s what I’m talking about.” He licks his lips suggestively. Reaching a hand out, my body turns stiff as he runs it down my arm.

“How about we go somewhere… a little more private?”

Fighting the urge to jerk away from him, I hold my stiff smile. “How about that drink first?”

His slimy smile grows. “Stay right there. I’ll get you something special, just for you.”

I’m sure you will. Probably in the form of Rohypnol.

Just as the creep leaves my view, I drop the fake ass smile and look for a quiet place to watch out for my contact.

Spotting a place in the back corner, I take a step toward it when I hear a familiar husky voice from behind me, making me freeze.

“Damn, baby. You look fucking edible in that dress.”