The Firebrand's Succubus

By T.M. Smith

The Beauty
The strikingly beautiful Zora, succubus executive assistant at the prestigious Ministry of Well Being on Scath, is being stalked by an obsessed admirer.

The Beast
When her worried boss calls for a Firebrand bodyguard, the scarred and fierce warrior, Darius, shows up for the job.

The Snag
Though Zora is drawn to Darius, convincing him they are perfect together takes time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evernight
• Release date: Mar 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9780369509680

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Published by EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ® at Smashwords

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright© 2024 T.M. Smith

ISBN: 978-0-3695-0968-0

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Jessica Ruth

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

To Mike, for encouraging me all these years, listening to endless ruminations about plot, and not reading the steamy scenes.

THE FIREBRAND’S SUCCUBUS

The Blood Coven World

T.M. Smith

Copyright © 2024

Chapter One

In AD 452, the Blood Coven, led by the warlock known as the Cambion from Wales, divided the world into three realms: Scath, Darque, and Earth. Such was necessary to avert the doom of humankind.

Scath, Present Day

Darius was flawed. He had a scar, an anomaly on Scath, a realm of unflawed Aeternals. And not a small one. No. The mark ran from below his left brow to his jawbone and down his neck. To hide it, he’d covered it with a snake tat, but nothing erased the gift from a berserker.

Before his Awakening, the ceremony when a djinn or any Aeternal breed came into their full powers, Darius did a stupid kid thing. He got into a fight with a same-age berserker, and the knives came out. Darius was slashed and so was his adversary. Even a healer couldn’t do much to help either youth since neither had set into their powers, including healing. They both had a great story to tell, but the scar didn’t disappear. At first, it was cool. Later, not so much. Aeternals were pretty judgmental about skin-deep beauty.

The rest of Darius’s flesh was the color of the desert sands, his djinn breed’s homeland when they had lived on Earth millennia ago. Henna-like glyphs depicting the warriors’ successes in battles decorated that beautiful skin. He had plenty of those triumphs memorialized on his arms, chest, and thighs. But they were stunning representations of his fighting prowess. They were not scars.

Waiting at a blud den, he targeted a female, exposing only the right side of his face to her. When she nodded, he grabbed her hand and dragged her up the stairs. All breeds on Scath could feed at blud dens, not just vamps. For money, the employees served the clients’ needs, offering their emotions, lifeforce, soul, orgasms, or blood, whatever was needed as a food supplement for Aeternals.

Because djinn fed on fear, they couldn’t get a good meal here. To nourish their breed bodies, they required a fight or battle. Plenty of opportunity on Scath. If not on this realm, they hired out as mercenaries on Earth. Fortunately, they didn’t need to feed as often as other Aeternals. A bloody war once a year could hold them.

Darius came to the blud den for sex. It was also on the menu. Since his scar prevented him from attracting females without disgust curling their lips or sympathy tearing in their eyes, he frequented the clubs for an uncomplicated fuck.

Shoving a large stack of bills into his selection’s free hand, he rushed them toward a room. When she saw his flaw, covered by the winding snake, she jerked back, screwing up her nose.

It was a common reaction to his imperfection, but he wearied of it. Many a female had turned down his advances because of the scar. Even in the Blood Shed, a bar where sex and booze were free-flowing, a damn nymph had rejected him. And everybody knew they’d fuck anything in pants. She’d placed the blame on his never-healing wound. After that incident, he gave up trying to get sex the regular way and frequented blud dens when his hand didn’t do the job.

When the sex worker glanced at the double pay Darius had given her, she blanked the revulsion on her face and hustled along behind him. Apparently, she’d had excellent training on servicing rare ugly, marred Aeternals. Either that or she was into kink, figuring anyone who looked like him was into it, too.

Okay.

He hustled her inside, kicked the door shut, and ordered her to strip. She obliged, her clothes fastened with Velcro