Sigil Fire The Series Books 1-3: Sigil Fire

By Erzabet Bishop

Enter this urban fantasy world with fallen angels, witches, vampires, and succubi, where shadows hold more than just empty promises of the night...

Book 1:

Where there's smoke, there's hellfire…

Sonia is a succubus with one goal: stay off Hell's radar. But when succubi start to die, including her sometimes lover, Jeannie, she's drawn into battle between good and evil and a past that isn't ready to let her go.

Fae is a blood witch turned vampire, running a tattoo parlor and trading her craft for blood. She notices that something isn't right on the streets of her city. The denizens of Hell are restless.

With the aid of her nest mate, Perry, and his partner, Charley, she races against time before the next victim falls. The killer has a target in his sights, and Sonia might not live to see the dawn.

Book 2:
A betrayal will lead her into the darkness. A second chance will lead her into the light.

Magic and mystery come to life when humans encounter the secrets of Forbidden Ink.
When a blood-for-ink trade gives Genevieve more than she bargained for, her world gets upended. A visit to Cirque Nocturne to blow off some steam is intended to give her the distraction she needs, but this tattooed beauty finds more waiting for her in the shadows than she could ever have hoped for.

The shadow world of Cirque Nocturne is not always what it seems.
Maliah is a phoenix shifter, bound to Cirque Nocturne by blood and an unbreakable vow. But when the shadows reveal a darkness more beautiful than she has ever seen, she must decide whether there is room in her heart for the one thing that could make her whole or break her completely.

Book 3:
Even the shadows have secrets.

Check your inhibitions at the door…
Return to the world of Sigil Fire, where dark desires and delights collide with the wild magic of Forbidden Ink, the sensuous wonders of The Violet Hour, and the mysteries of Cirque Nocturne. The price of admission might just be your soul.

Complicated love…
Reyna is a wolf shifter with relationship issues. Or rather, the lack of them. She's found her mate, or at least she thinks so, but things get more than a little complicated during a zombie apocalypse. When Reyna's past rears its ugly head, will her lost memories be the key to her future—or her undoing?

Eternal devotion…
Charley is a succubus on a mission. Bound by an oath made long ago, she is torn between her attraction to Reyna and her duty. When Hell and Heaven collide in an all out war, she has a decision to make. If she isn't careful, it could be her last.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Naughty Nights Press LLC
• Release date: Apr 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781773571652

Erzabet Bishop

Erzabet Bishop is a USA Today bestselling and award winning author of over forty paranormal and contemporary romance books. She lives in Houston, Texas, and when she isn't writing about sexy shifters or voluptuous heroines, she enjoys playing in local bookstores and watching movies with her husband and furry kids.

Book preview

Praise for Erzabet Bishop

"If you love excitement and sexy wolf shifters! Then you will love this incredible storyline!

You will love this super exciting, thrilling, funny, suspenseful, and scorching hot shifter Romance! This is a five star plus story."

~ Roxie's Romance Reviews

OH WOW! Suspense builds, a world different from anything is shown and love and death battle.

Praise for Erzabet Bishop

I started reading and couldn't stop until I turned the last page. I really enjoyed the characters and thought there was the possibility for more stories with these characters. I thought this was a very entertaining story. This is the first book by this author that I have read, and it won't be my last.

~ Loves to Read (A Cozy Booknook)

Fantastic story and read!!!

Praise for Erzabet Bishop

This is a must read for those who like a bite to their romance.

What a fantastic read! I was so drawn in by this book that I couldn’t put it down until the very end. I love the connection that these two share and how they finally reach their HEA. I felt all of the emotions and cheered for them every step of the way. I can’t wait to read the next book.

Praise for Erzabet Bishop

It's complicated, shifter style.

For a shifter reverse harem to start off with a quote from Joseph Campbell, you know it's going to be smart and different.

What an amazing book! Tormenting Her Mate is the third book of the My Wicked Mates series. And what a fantastic book it is!

Praise for Erzabet Bishop

I loved reading this book! A sweet and passionate romance with a happy ever after! Love it!

You will love this Awesome storyline with its BDSM theme. The characters are fantastic. This story will keep you glued to its pages.

I loved reading this story. I opened the book and didn’t stop reading until the last page. I was swept into the story from the first page.

Praise for Erzabet Bishop

WOW! Clover and Richard are great!! The chemistry incredible! This is a hot story with some suspense and drama.

This book hooked me from the get go I just couldn't put it down I fell in love with these characters and omg what a story just a perfect read.

This was a great story. I have never read anything by this author before but I will be from now on. I can't wait to read the rest of the series.

Sigil Fire Books 1-3 Collection

ISBN: 978-1-77357-165-2

Published by Naughty Nights Press LLC

http://naughtynightspress.com/

Copyright © 2017-2020 Erzabet Bishop

All rights reserved.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.

Sale of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as unsold or destroyed and neither the author nor the publisher may have received payment for it.

No part of this book may be adapted, stored, copied, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Table of Contents

Table of Contents

Sigil Fire Books 1-3

About

About Sigil Fire

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Written On Skin

Dedication

About

Note to the Reader

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Bonus Short Story

Dear Reader,

Glitter Lust

About Glitter Lust

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Epilogue

A Taste of Snow

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Preview of Shifting Hearts Dating Agency Series

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Where to Find More of Erzabet Bishop

Also By Erzabet Bishop

About The Author

Sigil Fire Books 1-3

Collection

Erzabet Bishop

About

Enter this urban fantasy world with fallen angels, witches, vampires, and succubi, where shadows hold more than just empty promises of the night...

Book 1:

Where there’s smoke, there’s hellfire...

Sonia is a succubus with one goal: stay off Hell’s radar. But when succubi start to die, including her sometimes lover, Jeannie, she’s drawn into battle between good and evil and a past that isn’t ready to let her go.

Fae is a blood witch turned vampire, running a tattoo parlor and trading her craft for blood. She notices that something isn’t right on the streets of her city. The denizens of Hell are restless.

With the aid of her nest mate, Perry, and his partner, Charley, she races against time before the next victim falls. The killer has a target in his sights, and Sonia might not live to see the dawn.

Book 2:

A betrayal will lead her into the darkness. A second chance will lead her into the light.

Magic and mystery come to life when humans encounter the secrets of Forbidden Ink.

When a blood-for-ink trade gives Genevieve more than she bargained for, her world gets upended. A visit to Cirque Nocturne to blow off some steam is intended to give her the distraction she needs, but this tattooed beauty finds more waiting for her in the shadows than she could ever have hoped for.

The shadow world of Cirque Nocturne is not always what it seems.

Maliah is a phoenix shifter, bound to Cirque Nocturne by blood and an unbreakable vow. But when the shadows reveal a darkness more beautiful than she has ever seen, she must decide whether there is room in her heart for the one thing that could make her whole or break her completely.

Book 3:

Even the shadows have secrets.

Check your inhibitions at the door...

Return to the world of Sigil Fire, where dark desires and delights collide with the wild magic of Forbidden Ink, the sensuous wonders of The Violet Hour, and the mysteries of Cirque Nocturne. The price of admission might just be your soul.

Complicated love...

Reyna is a wolf shifter with relationship issues. Or rather, the lack of them. She’s found her mate, or at least she thinks so, but things get more than a little complicated during a zombie apocalypse. When Reyna’s past rears its ugly head, will her lost memories be the key to her future—or her undoing?

Eternal devotion...

Charley is a succubus on a mission. Bound by an oath made long ago, she is torn between her attraction to Reyna and her duty. When Hell and Heaven collide in an all out war, she has a decision to make. If she isn’t careful, it could be her last.

Sigil Fire

Book One

Erzabet Bishop

Naughty Nights Press ● Canada

About Sigil Fire

Sonia is a succubus with one goal: stay off Hell’s radar. But when succubi start to die, including her sometimes lover, Jeannie, she’s drawn into battle between good and evil and a past that isn’t ready to let her go.

Fae is a blood witch turned vampire, running a tattoo parlor and trading her craft for blood. She notices that something isn’t right on the streets of her city. The denizens of Hell are restless. With the aid of her nest mate, Perry, and his partner, Charley, she races against time before the next victim falls. The killer has a target in his sights, and Sonia might not live to see the dawn.

Dedication

A huge thank you to all the people in my world who made writing this book possible.

My husband who feeds me and checks me for a pulse when I’m working.

My fur babies who keep me grounded. Taddy. You see more blind than anyone I know. I love you.

To my readers and fans, I thank you.

For Ameliah. You know why. Hugs.

Acknowledgements

To Gina who brings my book life again–who gives me the wings to make me fly.

And to Astrid, Sandra, and the Ylva folks for nudging Sigil Fire out of the tiny short story it started with.

One may tolerate a world of demons for the sake of an angel.

Reinette Poisson

Chapter One

THE DREAM WRAPPED AROUND Fae like gossamer silk. It was always the same. The woman’s back was to Fae—shapely curves illuminated against the shadows, the stranger’s face just out view. They were in a dark and winding alley, with the back side of row houses and businesses cluttered with dumpsters and badly repaired fences. The area behind the shops looked ramshackle and smelled worse. A combination of rotting garbage and the reek of something far worse.

A sense of urgency pounded through Fae. She needed to find this woman. Needed to find her now.

Dark demonic wings fluttered in the background, causing the mystery woman to flee. Her skirts whipped up, revealing calves that sucked the air from Fae’s lungs.

An aura of silvery wings hung behind the woman, vanishing as quickly as they appeared. The alleyway grew disjointed—a true setting from a nightmare. The red of her hair was only visible for a moment.

Help me! the woman’s sultry voice begged, out of breath and shrill with terror.

Fae’s dream self darted behind her. Shadowy faces and writhing figures moved in the periphery of her vision. She stared straight ahead. She had to focus. To find the woman.

Wait! She reached out, but only caught the tendrils of mist that filled the void.

The air chilled as Fae streaked through the fog. A fractured scream echoed in the murky dampness. Seeing anything became more difficult. The swampy odor of decay made Fae gag but still she pressed on. Don’t look. Just move.

Fae panicked. Where are you? The need to find the woman was overwhelming. There was something important about her. Even if Fae didn’t know what it was—she had to find the stranger. With her heart racing, Fae kept moving.

Stop! A terrible scream rang out in the darkness.

Fae’s pulse thrummed in her throat; her fangs clenched in fear. Where was she? Fae’s footsteps rang hollow as she ran, eyes searching, senses reaching out for any sign of the woman. Around her the buildings changed. Cold concrete walls penned her in. There was only one way to go. Forward.

A dim figure loomed in the distance, barely visible against the mists. Large wings unfolded, the odor of sulfur and dark rotting things made her sour stomach flip once more. The sound of tearing clothes and panicked screams met her ears. Shit.

Fae snarled, racing toward the sound of sobbing. Her boots hit the pavement, puddles of water and filth spraying out as she ran.

There was the mystery woman. Long, red hair draped over the concrete, defiled by the refuse on the ground surrounding her.

A streetlight shone bright in the foggy night air, and Fae was finally able to see the woman's face around the creature that held the woman prisoner in its grip.

Full, red lips parted in shock as the demon’s fingers tightened around her throat. With her wide eyes brilliant and dark against her ivory complexion, it was clear she was dying. Her gaze met Fae’s, a panicked expression of recognition, and as she looked at her attacker, fear.

Fae stepped forward. Get off her, asshole, she hissed, taking another step forward.

The being turned its head, empty eyes staring right into her soul.

Fae. Its lips tilted up into a satanic grin and he turned, revealing more of the partially nude woman.

Fae startled and took a step back. How do you know me? Her hand felt for a blade at her side. Nothing. Dammit!

Fae would have to try and save the mystery woman with only her strength.

Her fingers brushed the oily feathers of the demon’s wings, intent on pulling it away from the girl, but instead she ended up with nothing.

Dark laughter filled the hollow passage, and in a burst of noxious smoke, the being was gone.

Fae spun on her heel trying to see where it had gone, then moved back and knelt at the woman’s side. Red.

Find me, the woman whispered, her eyes locking onto Fae’s. A delicate smile drifted across her lips as she, too, began to fade into the mist.

No! Fae’s heart twisted in her chest. Just when she had found her, the woman was lost yet again. No! Despair clogged her throat.

The shadows of the alley loomed dark as the streetlight fell dim.

FAE JERKED AWAKE. SHE lay twisted in the sheets. Her breath came in gasps as the dream faded, leaving her cold and alone in her bed. She had seen the stranger’s face. Finally.

Her dog, Jellybean, whined in the darkness and snuggled in closer, her furry black face burrowing deep under the covers.

Red, she whispered. I’ll find you.

Staring out the window into the moonless night, Fae listened as the wind whipped the trees outside into a frenzy. Something was coming. But so was she.

Chapter Two

DETECTIVE CHARLEY MATTHEWS stared down at the desiccated corpse in the alley and frowned. The tenth dead girl in just a few days. The body count was climbing, and it was beginning to piss her off.

The girl laid at a crooked angle, the corpse appearing to have collapsed in on itself, the eyes sunken and the body broken.

Charley tugged at the blonde ponytail lying against the nape of her neck and grimaced. She foraged for a clip in the pocket of her hoodie and lifted her hair off her neck. Still overheated and reeking from being at the gym, she hesitated to stand too close to anyone.

Her partner, Perry, approached with a frown on his boldly handsome face.

Jesus. She looks like a cross between a shrunken head and a rag doll.

Charley sighed. I know. Her eyes flickered down the alley and she growled. Damn it. Where are the crime scene techs?

Perry snorted, his lips tilting up in a smirk. What’s up your bonnet?

Jesus, Perry. I smell awful. She waved her hands over her sweats in a flippant gesture. I was in the middle of my workout.

Like you need to worry about that. What were you really doing? Trolling for dinner? His fangs flashed in the moonlight as he chuckled at her discomfort. You are amazing. Really.

Yeah, yeah. Charley knelt down next to the corpse, trying to ignore the familiar ache of truth. He was right. It wasn’t easy managing the lust demon inside of her. She may be a succubus, but she preferred to focus on her job. This could just as easily be her on the pavement. It could happen. Not often, but sometimes even an immortal with a bad day could meet something in the shadows.

So, now we’re at what? The vampire stepped back. Twelve, right? I guess the bastard is aiming at lucky thirteen.

She waved him in. Maybe. Come here. Charley murmured, an ugly thought pinging through her brain. Something about this victim felt familiar. The others had all been succubi. Every one. This one would likely be as well. The strange part about all of it was the distinct lack of signature. Concentrating hard, Charley held her hand over the girl’s body, trying to get a reading. Her senses could sometimes feel if there was any presence of life left. Not this time. There was nothing to be read. Not even a wisp of soul for her to taste or feel. Just like all the others. Damn. An uncharacteristic burst of fear sent icicles skittering down her spine.

Perry knelt beside her. Getting anything?

Frustrated, Charley rocked back on her heels. Nope. Just like before. Why don’t you try?

Perry nodded. Okay. But if you didn’t find anything, then I’m not sure I’m going to be able to either. He stared at the body and lifted his nose into the air. He abruptly moved back, his eyes widening as they met Charley’s.

Do you smell that?

What?

Rot.

Jesus, Perry. We’re in the back of a nightclub. That dumpster over there is about to make my eyes water.

No. Perry snarled, bending down closer to the body. His nostrils widened, smelling deeply.

Perry, I hate to break this to you, but you are not a werewolf. You’re a vampire. What are you trying to do, get her scent?

You’d rather I call Reyna?

No. Charley scowled.

Then what are you doing?

Vampires can detect scent just as well as a werewolf. Look. His lips curved upward into a superior grin. A feather. He held it up to Charley, but something about it made her skin crawl.

Put it down, you idiot. Do you want the crime scene ghouls to see you’ve been messing with their shit? God. I can’t take you anywhere.

You’re just jealous because I found it. He smirked, dusting off his knees as he stood back up.

This isn’t over.

Perry turned his gaze back to the body at her feet. We need to meet with the council. Now.

Shit. Charley closed her eyes and mourned for who this girl had been. It was one thing for her to have a suspicion, but for Perry to confirm it was another. They had a serial killer on their hands, and there was no sign of an end.

Perry, where’s the feather? Charley’s lips parted in fear. All they needed was another infraction and their asses were back swinging day shift inside the station. Damn Perry’s ass for being a renegade.

Come on. We have to go. Perry gave a scornful look to the white-coated lab geeks approaching.

Footsteps echoed in the alley, shocking her back into the moment. The crime scene crew could handle this now. They could start interviewing potential witnesses. The club loomed bright at the end of the darkened lot, and she nodded at Perry. Time to get to work.

Perry nodded. Hang on. I need to make a call first. He yanked his phone off his belt and dialed. Fae. We need to talk.

Who?

Perry held his hand over the phone and mouthed to Charley. A vampire who can maybe help us.

Charley pursed her lips and stalked toward the club. Just what they needed. More politics.

FAE SHIFTED BENEATH the sheets and turned over grumpily. Talking with her old nest mate, Perry, had left a bad taste in her mouth. The streets had been a little too active for her comfort of late. Demons walked the night hunting for some unseen entity and now she knew why. She had seen them from her shop window and promptly increased the wards on her building.

The magic in her blood tingled as she performed her spell. Her lineage knew about the creatures that wandered the dark and how best to deal with them.

Fae’s mother had struggled to teach her from a young age how to craft the spells needed to survive. Maybe if Fae had paid better attention, she wouldn’t have been turned.

Bitterness flooded through Fae at the thought. A blood witch and a vampire. How ironic. Even after all this time, it never failed to amuse her dark sense of humor. Her mother, a kitchen witch with unprecedented powers of healing and protective magic, had predicted it to some extent. Her mother’s words echoed in her head, even now.

Sitting in the kitchen after a particularly grueling lesson, Fae sat down in a huff. It was basic earth magic they were working on that morning, and Fae failed to perform a simple warding spell again.

Goddess, I’ll never be good enough, will I? Her eyes stung with tears, her frustration at failing another lesson burning hard in her breast. She was a horrible witch. What’s wrong with me? An errant tear slipped from her lashes.

Her mother calmly placed her teacup on the counter and picked up Fae’s trembling hand, wrapping her own around it firmly. Stop. She reached into her teacup and pinched a bit of herbs, made a gesture in the air. Power crackled in the small space and her eyes met her daughter’s.

Pay attention. Her mother brought her herb-coated hand up to her cheek and wiped the tear that had fallen, leaving a small bit of residue where the tear had been. Whispering a few words, she began to speak.

"Goddess bless this daughter mine

Help her find her place in time.

Gray or white, black magic bind

The truest path of loves design

Give me knowledge of this path

To give your daughter peace at last."

Her mother held the tear up and sucked in a gasp as the tear changed from a single drop of bitter saline to a telltale crimson drop of blood. Her eyes widened and darted up to meet Fae’s.

No, her mother whispered. Oh, Goddess. No. Tears gathered in her mother’s eyes.

What does it mean? Fae whispered, mesmerized.

The air was charged with power, and her mother crackled with strength and knowledge. The Goddess was with them.

Her mother looked down at the small crimson droplet, and for a moment, her own hand quivered. It means your magic will not be like mine. It will be more like your father’s.

Fae shook her head. But Father is dead. You said so yourself.

Her mother relinquished Fae’s hand and stood, staring out into the woods. No. Your father is very much alive. Born of the darkness and eternal as the night, he is as much a part of you as I am. I tried to shelter you and keep you in the light... Her voice broke off into a choked sob as she lowered her head and rested her hand on the window ledge.

Mother, I don’t understand. Fae leapt from the table to comfort her. Mother?

Her mother straightened her back and smoothed the simple lines of her dress. She turned to look at her daughter, lines of weariness appearing on her face that had not been as pronounced only moments before. Tears streamed from her eyes as she pulled Fae into her arms.

Would that I could reroute you from your destiny but I cannot. She placed a finger beneath Fae’s chin, easing her face upward. I will teach you what I know, but this path the Goddess has chosen for you is one that will be difficult.

Fae’s lips trembled at the implication. Why? Her eyes strayed to the drop of blood on her mother’s outstretched hand. What does it mean?

Her mother closed her eyes and then opened them with grim determination. The Goddess has given you the gift of blood magic.

Blood? I don’t understand. Fae’s gaze darted from the crimson drop to her mother’s unflinching stare. The knowledge frightened her.

Blood magic is the darkest of arts, my Fae. Use it with the utmost care. It can bind and banish, but it will require a price. Her mother stroked her hair, gazing at her with seriousness. You will learn this in the future, I think. Your choices will be harder than most, but when you most need it, sigil and blood magic will be the path that sets you free.

Sigil? What is a sigil?

A sigil is a mark of power. Here... Her mother released her and reached for the teacup. Scooping out a wet clump of leaves and herbs onto the table, she blended the blood droplet with the wet mass. Quickly gesturing a blessing, she formed a circle around herself and Fae.

Watch. This symbol, here. Smudging across the wooden surface, a design began to take shape. It curled around itself, a spiraling line that seemed to end at the same place it began.

Power tingled in the air, and Fae sucked in a breath. This? She reached out her hand and the air vibrated, responding to her. The sigil glowed, clearly recognizing her presence.

Her mother caught Fae’s hand before she could touch it. Stop, Faeleon. Wait.

The herbs moved of their own volition into a new pattern and lifted off the table. Moving through the air, the herbs wove beyond the sleeves of her dress and into the tender flesh of Fae’s upper arm.

Fae cried out in alarm as the herbal symbol changed to a burning, living thing, branding a ring of fire around her arm. A band of jagged vines and branches formed on her flesh, scalding hot, searing her life force to the energy of the Goddess’ will.

It burns! Fae grimaced, tears running down her face. Fear clawed at her insides. What was happening to her? Her arm was on fire, burning and out of control. She screamed through gritted teeth. Her mother’s magic had never hurt her before. This was something new. Something alien to her. Something real. The pain. The blood. Not like the earth magic her mother had been instructing her in. That had been pointless toiling in the garden and making poultices for neighbors with ailing calves and crying babes. This was so much more. Confusion warred with rational thought as the needle-sharp sensations ceased. A comforting warmth rushed over her body along with a reluctant acceptance of the darkness within her. Fae wiped the tears from her face and took a shuddering breath. It hurts.

I know, child. I know. Her mother’s eyes were sad as her fingers brushed the tears from her cheeks. I would spare you this, but it is the Goddess’ will.

Why this, Mother? I don’t understand, Fae whispered.

So like your father... her mother whispered. I should have known.

Mother?

Instead of answering, she shook her head. Giving Fae a sad smile, her mother replied, Learn the paths like the spokes of a wheel, daughter. They circle around and meet each other again and again. Like the Wheel of the Year, you will see patterns in your own life. Knowledge brings power and with it, responsibility.

But this is different. Fae stared at her in wonder. Am I to be a blood witch then?

Her mother nodded, a solitary tear trickling down her cheek. Remember, my love. It is terrible magic and there will be a price. There is no cure. This is who you are now. You are becoming your father’s daughter. The choice is yours whether you will use the power for good or for evil. Darkness cannot be seen without the light. Don’t forget that part of you. Even when you have to fight the darkness from within.

Her mother had been so right.

Fae’s fingers drummed on the coverlet. Her mind retreated from the past and slammed into the present. Perry wanted to know if she had heard anything on the street. She hadn’t. Succubi didn’t have much cause to need her particular skills. They could change their forms at will, so a tattoo wasn’t usually something on their radar. Neither was her traffic in the spell trade. She would cast for those willing to pay, and pay they did. Dearly.

No, she hadn’t heard about more dead succubi yet, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be listening now. She tucked the sheet around the young woman in her bed and smiled. There were so many desperate girls who would do anything for one of her tattoos. Some flinched at the thought of becoming a donor, but most would open a vein just by her asking. She only ever chose the willing from her conquests. Fae’s violet eyes and sultry looks didn’t hurt in the seduction game, that was evident. Waves of ink-black hair added to her allure. Her mother had been fair-haired, so she could only assume her dark looks were handed down from her father.

The hour was still early, but Fae’s mind wouldn’t shut off. Succubi were trouble. It had only taken one taste to show her that much, and the experience hadn’t gone well. Gloria’s words still hurt today. Sorry, baby. I need to feed just like you do. Find yourself a nice human to love. You’ll be better off. With that, the buxom blonde had flitted out of Fae’s life faster than she had entered it. Shallow bitch.

Goddess, what was I thinking? Fae muttered to herself and sat up.

The girl in her bed opened her eyes and blinked in the darkness. Fae?

It’s alright, Astia. You can go home now. Fae stroked her arm affectionately. Thank you.

The petite brunette blushed, the sheet falling to reveal one pert breast with puncture marks. Her eyes strayed to the delicate tattoo on her breast. Running her fingers across it, she winced lightly and smiled.

Thank you, Fae. She pressed a kiss to Fae’s hand and slipped from beneath the covers. Astia’s heart-shaped ass swayed with each delicate step as she scooped up her clothes and left the room.

It was a shame Fae wasn’t interested. Again her mind strayed to the woman in her dreams. The connection she felt to her was strange.

Why do I dream of her night after night? Fae murmured. What did the mysterious redhead have to do with her? Who was the decaying angel? It didn’t make sense. Fae trailed her fingers absentmindedly along her thigh, drumming her fingers in thought. She would find out. Her mother’s books held spells she had never tried. There had to be one for dreams. With her mind still wandering, she barely heard her donor leave. She gave up on sleep. It was time for her to ready herself for work. The shop was busy this time of year. She slid her legs off the bed and went in search of coffee. It was going to be a long night.

SONIA WALKED THE STREET, cool autumn winds stirring up the dead leaves along the sidewalk. Hunger clawed her insides, but she pushed it down. Catching a glimpse of herself in a shop window, Sonia pressed her lips together. Her eyes were getting that hollow look again. The one Monty would yell at her for. The warden demon was always trying to keep her out of trouble. Even when she couldn’t be bothered to do it herself.

More and more often, the days pushed in on her, and she had to fight off the feeling that there was nothing left to live for. The dark-eyed girl in the shop windows might as well be a ghost. No one would miss her if she vanished. Except maybe Jeannie, her on and off girlfriend—but not for long. Jeannie was an opportunist, and there was always the next guy or girl for her to latch onto. It was what Sonia had initially liked about her. No strings. No serious commitments. Work and more work and trying to stay off Hell’s radar.

You need to feed, dammit. I don’t care what crazy ideas you have in your pretty succubus head. A girl has to eat. Find some asshole off the street if you have to. That’s what Monty had said.

He was right. A girl had to eat. Even if it was feeding off of men’s souls.

Disgust roiled in her gut just thinking about it. Even after a couple thousand years, give or take, it still felt unnatural. Her uncertain origins flickered in the back of her mind, and she shook her head. No sense dwelling on it now. She had someplace to be.

A sound echoed from an alley nearby, and she jumped, her stomach churning. Shit. All of Monty’s harping was starting to make her afraid of her own shadow.

Be careful out there tonight, Sonia. Jenika went missing last night. Stay in the fucking light, and text me when you’re on your way.

There it was again. That sound. Her hands clenched at her sides and her breath quickened.

Scrape...scrape...a rustling noise, then the panicked barking of a dog.

Crap. Sonia froze, peering into the darkness of the alley. Her automatic instinct to help overrode self-preservation. She sprinted into the shadows. The alley was long and cluttered with broken crates and packing material from the antique store out front. Perfect for something to hide behind. Sonia navigated carefully, but with urgency.

The barking pitched higher, more panicked.

A little dog was trapped. Black with a shaggy face, its red eyes were wide with fear as it faced its tormenter. It barked, trying bravely to stand against the creature blocking its path. Red eyes? What kind of dog has red eyes?

Shadowy and dark, the being floated in front of the canine, intent on its prey.

Anger spiraled through Sonia unchecked. What was this creature doing here, practically in her back yard? Created by wisps of darkness and negative energy, these kinds of demons were not ones she wanted to linger. They only drew creatures that were darker and deadlier. Monty was right to be worried. Something was coming and it wasn’t good.

Darkling. Her voice rasped out, sweet and deadly.

The demon turned to her, its eyes widening in surprise and then narrowing in annoyance.

It hadn’t felt her approach. Interesting.

What do you want, succubus? This is no concern of yours. Its eyes glowed red, the only illumination in the cavernous dark that made up its form.

Sonia shuddered. The thick ooze of its voice made her want to vomit. It may have been a demon, but everything about it screamed wrong. This creature had no business here.

Leave this place, darkling. Power crept down her arms, itching to strike. She was a succubus. It was not in her nature to use her energy to do anything but drain the souls of men, but the dog was innocent. Red eyes or not. Hellhounds were protectors. Nothing more. Whomever belonged to this little dog must love her fiercely. Its terror called her to act. Memories flickered, barely out of reach. The urge to protect and serve this small creature rose up, all consuming.

Dark laughter chortled from the creature’s maw. What will you do, succubus? Your charms, lovely as they are, will not work on me.

Sonia’s lips curled up in a dangerous smile. Do you want to test me, demon? Her voice was low. Look into my eyes and tell me that I am only what you see. Strength rose within her. Power flickered behind her eyes.

You were warned, succubus. The creature lashed out, a tendril of dark matter whipping toward Sonia.

The hellhound whined, backing into the corner of the alley as far as it could go.

Sonia should have run. Any normal succubus would have, she realized. But she wasn’t. Normal, that is. She stepped into reach of the dark tendril, capturing it in her grip. White-hot power streamed from her hand, and she met the demon’s startled gaze. Be gone!

An agonized scream rent the air. The scorched stench of burning flesh filled the alley as the creature retracted itself.

What are you? it asked, horrified. Folding inward, it shuddered. Fighting against being contained again, the being shrieked and writhed in pain. You are no succubus. It spat, glaring at her with hooded eyes barely visible in the shadows. Another burst of power landed in the creature’s direction, causing it to scream again. Beware, succubus. You are marked. It flashed a pulse of noxious air and was gone.

Sonia stared at her hands, still pulsing with power. Where had that come from? Dizziness overwhelmed her and she staggered against a grimy brick wall. Her head whirled in confusion. What the hell did I just do? she whispered.

The little hellhound yipped and darted past her into the night.

Sonia watched the furry beast until it made it out of the alley safely. She waited until her head stopped spinning and righted herself. A hellhound. Amazing. She really did need to get some sustenance soon. Just the thought of draining someone, even if he deserved it, made her want to be sick.

You’d think I would be used to it by now, Sonia mumbled to herself, still shaken by her reaction to the darkling demon.

Checking her watch, she grimaced. Monty would be waiting. His studio was the most prestigious in town, and she was lucky he was willing to put up with a succubus with an eating disorder.

She pulled out her phone and punched a number, sending a quick text.

Almost there.

There. Now, at least he wouldn’t worry. She sent another one to her friend, Charley, asking if she wanted to meet for a cold one later in the week.

Another gust of wind blew hair into Sonia’s eyes. She momentarily lost her footing and staggered against the side of the building. A scent blended with the crisp air, and she whipped her head up, straining to find its source. The smoky scent of brimstone could easily be mistaken for piles of burning leaves on the outskirts of town, but this was different. Stronger.

Unease trickled down her back. The sense that she was being watched crept over her skin. Sonia straightened and hurried in the direction of the studio. Something unnatural was in the wind tonight, and it didn’t bode well to be out of doors.

Chapter Three

JEANNIE TWISTED AROUND the pole, her eyes raking over the crowd. Come on boys! Give me all your love! she called out.

The club was packed tonight, and she received potent energy from the men in the audience. Either that or she was just really hungry. She wasn’t sure which.

Flinging her hair back in time with the music, she pumped her hips and loosened the skimpy strap on her bikini top.

Smoke spiraled up from the crowd through the stale air, creating a foggy haze around the stage. The spotlights illuminated her sweat-soaked skin, giving the men the fantasy they were looking for. That’s why they patroned the club, and she always delivered.

Take it off, sweet cakes! a clean-cut thirty-something man screamed from below the stage.

Bolo, the bouncer, kept them from getting too close, but she didn’t mind if they copped a feel. As long as it was on her terms. She let her inner eye look him over. His aura pulsed with purple. Yep. That meant he knew he shouldn’t be here, but he had shown up again anyway. Probably married. She wouldn’t mind draining him dry if she ever got the chance. Save his wife the trouble in divorce court. Sometimes she had to work harder than others to keep the smile pasted on her face.

Get back, asshole, Bolo growled, shoving the guy backward as he tried to climb onto the stage.

She lost her rhythm for only a moment. At a nod from the bouncer, she leapt in the air, clutching the pole as she undulated against it, making love to the crowd with her mind. What she gave out, they gave back in spades. This was her favorite part about being a succubus. She was admired by men and got to taste them. All of them.

Thank damnation it was her last set for the night. She was playing the part of a bleach blonde bimbo. The guys loved that. As the final chords of the song began, she threw the top of the bikini into the crowd. Prancing toward the edge of the stage, breasts bouncing to the music, she allowed the throngs of men to stuff dollar bills into her g-string bottoms. Most of the guys were so excited when they touched her they came, feeding her even more. Damnation, that was her favorite part. They left never knowing she had stripped them of their life forces, and they always came back for more. It was delicious.

The set ended and she pranced off the stage, pulling out money and stuffing it into a small bag she always kept by the stage exit. She smiled to herself, but then a random fan jostled against her, and she had to restrain herself from recoiling. The large, sweaty man blocked her path, a leering smile on his meaty face. He was short and balding. The too small golf shirt he wore reeked of beer and other unsavory things.

Jeannie shuddered and tried to mask her distaste. Men at a distance were fine. Up close, not so much.

Where you going, honey? He smirked, leaning in close, the smell of him making her nauseous.

She curled her lip and scanned the crowd. Where the hell is the damned bouncer? Bolo was near the stage, but there should have been another guy between her and the door. Still, the strange guy was no threat. Not to her.

Move. Jeannie held her ground, staring the sweaty little man down. Her heart beat just a little bit faster. Her nerves were a little on edge. There was one too many succubi coming up missing for her comfort lately.

Make me. He took a step closer. I think you owe me a dance. You were late getting up on stage tonight. Three minutes. I timed you. Waving his hand in her face, he thrust a wad of sweaty money at her. Here. Take it. Now, twitch those tits for me, baby. I’ve had a fucked up day and I want to see some of that jiggle.

Revulsion twisted her features even as her inner fire woke to taste the essence of the soul in front of her. He was damned. Of that there was no doubt. His aura was tainted black. The flavor of his sins leaned toward violence against women. He was a pig, but maybe she could use that to her advantage.

She leaned in closer. Make me, she whispered, her gaze delving deep into his. She shoved him back a foot against a wall. Do it. Touch me. I really, really want you to.

He growled, enraged at her temerity. Bitch. He grabbed her arm roughly and yanked her to him, his hands groping her curves.

Good. A dark chuckle worked its way up her throat. She glanced around and pushed him farther along the wall into a dark corner.

The crowd was busy ogling Selene as she swung her hips across the stage. No one watched Jeannie. Even better. She had time for a little snack before her date arrived.

Mr. Sweaty palms rubbed himself, pawing at her breasts, trying to get inside of her shirt. Luckily he was sauced up to high heaven, his fingers as uncoordinated as the rest of him. His hand brushed the underside of her upper arm and he shuddered; touching her sense-infused flesh could send him over the edge.

The first wave of an orgasm passed through him, and the life force of his soul poured into her body, giving her the much need nourishment she had been craving. Hips thrusting, he moved against her, pushing her