Kate pushed through the crowd towards the largest of the three bars. It was hard to ignore the intoxicating energy of the club. It was tempting to go out on the dance floor and lose herself to the music, the venom, the alcohol... even more, now that she was starting to feel normal again. Normal for her, anyway. Gods, what she would do to be a normal twenty-year-old and just have a good time.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?" The bartender shouted over the music.

The yellow in his eyes and the emptiness of his aura told her he was another demon, but she couldn't quite identify what kind. She really shouldn't have been so surprised. "Is Celeste around?" she called.

His eyebrow quirked up. "Is there a problem?"

"I was here a couple weeks ago. I think I left something upstairs."

"Ah, I get it. Here," he filled a glass with ice, liquor, and soda before sliding it across the counter at her. "You seem like a rum kinda girl. Hang tight while I get her."

Taking the straw, she stabbed further into the drink and practically inhaled it. He was wrong, she'd rather have a good quality vodka, but she was not about to complain now. Alcohol helped lessen the constant stream of alarm bells and warnings going off in her head. She really shouldn't be here. But she didn't know what else to do. She needed her questions answered, and the only ones who might have answers were here.

Danika needed her help, even if she didn't know it yet. She could only hope that she would stay in Nice a little longer. Hope that Guerrero wouldn't go looking for her. Hope that she wasn't too late.

"Hey,"

Celeste appeared next to her, making her jump and look up from the drink. She and Celeste could have been sisters by human standards of appearance in that they were both black-haired and pale as paper. Technically, they were family in the way that all succubi, along with the other creations of Lust, were family. Only Celeste bore the signs of being a well-fed powerhouse. Her eyes were a fierce yellow, and she was a lot taller with a body that looked like it came straight out of a Playboy magazine. She was gorgeous and carried herself in ways that told the world she knew it. Kate wished she'd known the succubus when she was younger. She could have learned so much from someone like her.

"I'm surprised to see you back so soon," she said with a knowing smile. "You just couldn't stay away, huh?"

Kate felt the heat rise on her face. Celeste knew everything she had gotten up to with Cyrille. She had defended her against Cyrille shouting at her and was determined to get back at him for it, despite the fact that Kate kept telling her over and over it was fine. Her solution had been for them to share souls with each other until he apologized. As if the recurrent dreams about sleeping with Cyrille weren't enough. Now she had to deal with the occasional fantasy starring none other than the matriarch of his legion.

"Can we talk somewhere private?" she asked. "I need to ask you something."

"Of course," Celeste's smile was salacious and wicked. "Decided to take me up on my offer? Ooh, let's do it in one of the event rooms. Cyrille will definitely find us there."

"N-no. Thanks, but... I'd actually rather he didn't know I was here."

She paused at the door and narrowed her eyes. "He still hasn't apologized yet, has he?"

"He doesn't need to apologize for anything."

"Sure, he does! He was being an asshole! Who the hell is he to tell you what to do? You're not a part of the legion!"

Kate laughed in total agreement. "Really, Celeste. I appreciate you being on my side of this crap, but I really don't want him to know I'm here."

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Celeste pouted. "How are you going to get him to worship you like the goddess you are if you don't push his buttons a little?"

"I don't want him to worship me. I just want to pretend I never met him. Please?"

"Liar," she rolled her eyes dramatically and pushed through to the hall stairwell. "So, if not Cyrille, what do you want to talk about?"

"Is there... any way to split apart soulmates?" The shaking in her voice betrayed her nerves.

"Well, I can't say I was expecting that." Celeste glanced behind her. "You remember we don't have souls, right? So we don't get soulmates. Even if we did... I mean, I get that Cyrille's really great in bed but, come on. If you can't get him out of your head, then you kind of have to just admit that you like the guy... even if he is a complete dick."

"Damnit, can you please take this seriously?! Forget about Cyrille and me. This is bigger than Cyrille and me! I don't feel anything for him. He's just a guy I slept with, nothing more. We're succubi. That's what we do! So, please, just tell me yes or no so I can get the hell out of here."

Celeste's eyes flared, but Kate didn't flinch. For the moment, at least, she wasn't afraid. Until a devilish smirk stretched across her face. "Fine," Celest opened the door next to them, revealing none other than Cyrille's room. He was sitting shirtless on the couch with a drink in one hand a pile of papers in the other. "Oi," she barked at him. "Is there a way to break up soulmates?"

"What?" Cyrille looked up, first in confusion, then in surprise, when they shifted to Kate. "No. Why-"

"Cool, thanks!" Celeste slammed the door on him before he could finish. "There you go. Now can we talk about you and Cyrille?"

"You're unbelievable," Kate snapped. "That was not necessary."

She turned on her heel and stormed back down the hall and the stairs. The sound of the door bursting open again sent chills of both pleasure and anxiety down her spine. "Katalin," Cyrille called out, racing after her. "Katalin, wait."

She didn't. She made it through the back door to the alley before he caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. Against her better judgment, she didn't fight and turned to look back at him. He was barely a foot away from her, much closer than her rising temper would have liked, yet not nearly close enough for the yearning heat building between her legs. "What?" she snapped.

"How..." He hesitated and shifted awkwardly. "How are you?"

She stared up at him, rage bubbling over faster than she could stop it. "How am I?" she sneered and slapped him as hard as she could. The sound reverberated off the walls of the alley, and he stumbled back from the force of the hit. "You told Guerrero I tried to kill him!"

"Correction," he spat, turned back to show the black had flooded his eyes. "I told him you were sent to kill him. It's a rather important distinction."

"Not to them!"

She raised her hand to strike him again, but he caught her wrist and jerked her close. "Did he touch you?" he snarled.

Her magic surged forward, causing her eyes to turn pure gold, and the bracelet burned into her skin. "And what if he did?" she hissed. "You two are such great friends. What would you have done? Killed him? Over a demon that you fucked once, and who wants nothing to do with you?"

"If you want nothing to do with me, then why are you here?"

"There are only two breeds of Ancients who would know how to split souls supposedly destined to be together. I'm not stupid enough to go searching for dragons after what went down in America, but I guess I am stupid enough to think that you would actually be of any help!"

She tried pulling away, but his grip tightened to a near-crushing grip, and his lip curled up to show teeth that were starting to elongate into long, needle-like fangs. Then, he blinked, and his snarl turned into a smirk. "You know who it is, don't you?" he chuckled. "You know who his soulmate is."

"Yes," she hissed. "And she deserves better than him."

"That's a bold opinion, don't you think? Soulmates are handpicked for each other by magic. There is no one better for Aarón than your friend. And no one better for her than Aarón."

"The magic got it wrong this time. He will ruin her."

"You're so convinced. Do you even know anything about him?"

"I know her! And I know werewolves!" her voice cracked in desperation, fear for her best friend overtaking her anger. "She's an Ancient, so he can't turn her. He can't get her pregnant, which is the only reason lycans take mates at all. If he ever finds her, he might be okay with that initially, when things are hot and heavy. But what happens when he realizes he's a king without an heir? He will only see her as the source of his humiliation and an outlet for his frustration. And when she doesn't submit, and she won't submit, he'll torture her. Physically, emotionally... sexually. I can't... I can't just let that happen to her."

Through her entire outburst, Cyrille's eyes slowly faded back to normal. He watched her with a mix of curiosity and sympathy. Raising his free hand, he brushed her hair back from her face and wiped the trail of tears away with his thumb. He hated seeing her so upset. He wanted to soothe and comfort her, and... damnit, he wanted to help her.

"Katalin," he whispered, softly stroking her cheek. "There is nothing I can do about them being soulmates. But I can assure you that Aarón is not the kind of man you've determined him to be. He acts like a meathead because that's how the Parisian packs see strength. It is not how his pack thinks. The world you know is changing. Your friend will be the first queen of the wolves, no matter her breed, and she will be adored."

Her eyes fluttered. "Lycanthrope never change."

"Everything changes, kitten."

"Stop calling me that." She looked away and wiped furiously at her eyes.

"Why?" he purred, tilting her head back up so he could look deep into her molten gold eyes. "You are such a strong little kitten. Against all odds, you survived on your own with nothing but your claws."

"Not alone," her voice shook, and her eyes fluttered. "I never would have made it this far without her. Please, Cyrille... I know I said I don't need your help, but... please..."

"I'll... see what I can dig up," he sighed. Her eyes started to light up, and he gripped her chin tightly. "Do not get your hopes up. As you said, the only creatures who might know are demons and dragons, and I am also not stupid enough to go running after the ice queen to ask her how she did it."

"So, it has been done?"

"By the gods, Katalin, is that all you heard? If you know anything about the sun and moon dragons, you know things aren't exactly going well for them!"

"It doesn't matter," she gave him a small, shaky smile. "We've gotten through a lot worse with a lot less than dragons' chance of hope."

Damnit... that cute little smile of hers had his heart thundering a hundred beats a second. He had to fight against his instincts and desires, telling him to hoist her over his shoulder and carry her back inside. "One day," he leaned closer, and his mouth hovered a breath over hers. "I am going to learn all your secrets. I want to know exactly who you're afraid of. I want to know exactly who I get the pleasure of hunting down and ripping apart."

"Why?" she whispered. "I'm not yours. I'll never be yours."

"So you say. But that's not going to stop me from trying."

He didn't need to kiss her. Kate lifted herself up on her toes and kissed him herself. Finally releasing her wrist, Cyrille wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her into his body. She was so small and fragile, but there was a damn tigress under that layer of caution and fear.

She pulled back long before he was ready to stop. She stared into his eyes, her own a burning ring of gold fire around pupils dilated from pleasure. "I... I really need you to stop touching me," she whispered against his lips, sending hot waves of pleasure through him.

"Why's that?" he purred, tightening his grip and crushing her against him.

"Because I can't stop thinking about you..."

"That sounds like an excellent reason for me to keep touching you," he lowered his head and kissed her jaw. "That sounds like a reason I should never stop touching you," he kissed her neck, and she let out a slight sigh of pleasure. "That sounds like-"

Out of nowhere, he caught the bitter scent of vampire venom. He backed up and grabbed her chin again, forcing her to look into his eyes. He thought she'd been reacting to his touch. He thought she wanted him. "Hey," she whined, trying to push him away.

"Are you high?" he snarled.

She jerked away, scowling. "So what?"

"Why? I fed you! I can feed you any time you like. So why go back to the venom?! Where did you even get it?"

"Gave up my old dealer for a new one. What's it to you, anyway? If venom helps me sleep through the day and function at night, why shouldn't I take it?"

"None of it's real!"

"Exactly?! What has reality offered me? One parent gone, the other in the veil, a lifetime of fear and running away, and now my best friend is soulmates with a fucking werewolf! That's my real world! Only a fucking masochist would want to feel any of that sober!"

Cyrille shoved her against the wall, pressing his whole body against hers. Her palms slammed against his chest, but he barely noticed anything more than the fact that she was touching him. "Do you feel this?" he whispered, pushing his hands up her shirt and running his fingers across the soft skin of her waist. "Your hands on me, my hands on you... This is real, Katalin. You don't need venom."

She glared up at him, and her cheeks flushed pink when she realized how close he was to her lips. Gods-fucking-damnit, she was adorable and too fucking hot.

"You can have this again," he continued. His hands, so large compared to her small frame, rose until he could slip his thumbs into her bra and trace the underside of her breasts. Her eyes fluttered. "Real pleasure. Real souls. You can be so much stronger. You don't need to be afraid anymore."

"Cyrille," she whispered against his lips, sending a hot wave of pleasurable anticipation through his spine. "There was this... moment... just as I was falling asleep and just as I was waking up where I felt like that might be true. But then the moment passed. You went back to your legion, and I went back to my reality."

"Then join my legion. You would be welcomed with open arms." She pushed him away, conflict swimming in her eyes and her heart. Cyrille caught her chin one last time. "I'm not giving up on you, kitten."

The corner of her mouth twitched up. "Just don't get your hopes up, Avarice."

Never mind the magic. The way his name sounded in her voice was enough to fire every nerve all at once.

Kate slipped away, and it damn near killed him to let her go. Even as she disappeared around the corner, he knew he wouldn't be able to accept her just walking away. He'd never wanted someone as much as he wanted her. But a shadow loomed over that girl. And until she was under clear skies, she was right. She would never be his.

Kate went back to the bar, her head spinning with everything that just happened. Cyrille treated her better than anyone she had ever known. And that made it all the harder when he suddenly flew off the handle at her. He'd understand if he knew... anything.

What the hell was even going on with her? He'd given her more than enough reason to run as far and fast as she could. But he had her heart and stomach twisting to the point where she felt like vomiting. She couldn't stop thinking about his hands on her body and... Fuck... It felt good. It felt... normal. He was one of her own kind... She wouldn't hurt him when they were together. She wouldn't need to kill to feed. Maybe... maybe she could tell him...

She leaned her forehead against the back door of the bar. She had to focus on Danika. She'd tried calling her from the bar phone, even though there was the risk of the vampiric government tracing it. But the number had been disconnected.

What would she even tell her? She wasn't allowed to say anything about soulmates to anyone. It was the only law the demons cared about, so it didn't matter what she meant to Cyrille. As a High Sin, he would be required to enforce their law. If not him, one of the other two sins on this side of the veil would. It was a fifty-fifty shot of getting the one that wouldn't rip her essence apart, and she really didn't like those odds.

"Kate?"

Kate looked up sharply, looking for the familiar voice. Danika stood at the end of the street. Relief flooded her, and she rushed towards her best friend.

She never made it. Halfway down the alley, she was hit with the force of a mac truck and slammed to the ground. A hand wrapped around her throat, pinning her down and crushing her windpipe. "Hello, Katie," came the voice of a male she knew all too well. "Miss me?"

Kate opened her eyes to see Harper snarling down at her, eyes glowing red and fangs bared. "Get off her, you furry fuck!" Danika screamed.

"Give me a moment, your highness," he growled, not looking away from Kate. "Need to deal with my little demon problem first."

"Holy shit," came another male voice. "She's fucking strong. Hurry up!"

"Hold still, bitch!" shouted a third voice.

"Shut the hell up, all of you!" Harper roared. "Of course, she's fucking strong. Hold her down or knock her the fuck out."

"Just kill the demon whore. We don't need her."

"No, no, no," Harper chuckled and looked back to Kate. "You can't just kill a demon. Look at her. She can't breathe, but she hasn't even noticed."

Kate thrashed under his weight, clawing at his arm and trying to kick him off. "I said get-"

There was the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and Danika gasped. "That's the thing about demons," Harper continued, ignoring the commotion behind him. "You can cut off their limbs... you can even cut off their heads. They'll regenerate. Persistent fuckers. If you do destroy their bodies enough, their life force just goes back to the void where they can crawl their way back out again. No one really knows how to kill a demon. But we do know how to hurt them. Oh yes... we know how to hurt them."

Harper shifted his weight to sit on her chest and replace his grip on her throat with his knee. From the corner of her eye, she watched him drive a six-inch piece of metal into the concrete on each side of her head. She heard the rustling of chains before she realized what he was doing and started struggling with new vigor.

He hooked one of the links in the chain to the first anchor before laying it across her neck. Kate screamed as pure iron tore into her flesh. She didn't notice him moving back, only more pain when he dragged the chains across her torso, then her legs. He didn't need to pin down her hands or feet. This was more than enough to hold her down.

Harper stood up and back to admire his work. Kate flailed under the chains, fighting against blindingly hot pain, tearing her body apart, and screaming at the top of her lungs. Where the iron touched, her skin turned black and blistered. The blisters burst open and reformed in her now open wounds. The smell of sulfuric blood filled the air. "Iron and sunlight," he chuckled. "Those are the only two things that are effective against demons."

"I'm going to kill you," the vampire snarled behind him.

He turned to look down at the female. She was spitting mad, literally. Her fangs were fully descended, and venom ran down her chin. She jerked suddenly, trying to rip herself free of one of the other wolves and nearly succeeding. She really was strong. He couldn't believe this wretched little creature was Guerrero's fucking soulmate. Even greater evidence that he didn't belong at the head of the pack.

She tried freeing herself again, and he kicked her hard in the face. "This wasn't supposed to be so difficult!" he roared, kicking her again and again, taking out the frustrations of the last year on this stupid bitch. "This is what I get for putting my trust in a fucking female! All your little demon friend needed to do was kill him!"

The girl spat a wad of blood and venom up at him. "You had better kill me quick, dog-breath," she hissed. "You have no idea who you're fucking with."

"I'm not going to kill you," Harper barked out a laugh. "Why would I kill you? You're the key to everything. Guerrero will do anything for you as long as your alive." He reached out and grabbed her jaw in a crushing grip. "And if he's a good boy, I won't rip your fangs out."

The female hissed again before falling silent. A black wave of magic erupted behind him. Harper turned back to Kate. The color of her eyes solidified. Her mouth was wide open, and her teeth lengthened into several rows of hypodermic points. The skin of her hands was turning black, and her fingers were curling under the bracelet.

He shouted an incoherent warning and launched for her, needing to stop her. He was too slow, and the links of the bracelet scattered across the pavement.

She was free.

~