Kate looked across the street to the club. This was the night Harper said her target would be here. It had been a little over two weeks since she had tried to eat Cyrille. Every single one of her instincts was telling her to run in the other direction. Not just away from Tentation, but from Paris, and France, and... well... everything.

She never should have listened to Darius. She should have just... left.

She started scratching furiously at the skin under the bracelets, tearing off the scabs and re-opining the shallow cuts. The shriveled pit that was her stomach twisted angrily, crying out for sustenance. Her joints were stiff, and her elbows made weird clicking sounds when she straightened them. She was a mess.

It had been a month and a half since she'd taken any venom. Her magic was wholly disjointed and reacted violently to every and any touch, especially from males. The werewolves were getting great enjoyment out of teasing her relentlessly. If it weren't for Darius, she might have killed one of them. Even with the mysterious powers of the sigma, how he was able to resist her when she was in this desperate state was beyond her.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped onto the street towards the line of people at the entrance. She could do this. She had to do this. She either needed venom or to feed. Tonight, she could have both. Harper said the target was a rival dealer and would have a vial or two on him to keep her sated until he got back.

In and out, she told herself while blending into a crowd of pre-drunk college-aged humans. Twenty minutes... tops.

There was no way even an alpha werewolf would be able to resist her magic in this state. Not once she got her hooks into them.

Upon entering the club, the tension in her body eased. The venom in the air was enough to take the edge off. Just enough to help her focus on the name she had been given. She had to trust that Harper had given her the target's true name. Otherwise, she would never find him.

Taking a deep breath, she summoned what shred of control she had and whispered the name. "Aarón Guerrero."

She let the magic leave her and weave its way through the crowd of unsuspecting patrons. She followed the thread, trusting it would take her to the man she was supposed to kill. Her magic coiled, ready to strike when she found him. It knew that Kate was actively hunting and was willing to wait until she had picked her own target. It would not let this target get away. Not like the last one.

She could do this. She could hunt. She could kill. She could feed. Everything was going to be fine.

The magic led her to the edge of the dance floor and curled around a big male with dark skin and dark eyes leaning against the railing and watching the crowd. His eyebrows were knitted together, and there was a disgruntled frown on his lips. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe he'd come into the bar before... it didn't matter. Her mind was so focused on the hunt, it wouldn't recall the memory.

Kate reached out to touch him and opened her mouth to greet him. The moment her fingers grazed his bare arm, his eyes shifted to meet hers. She went still and blinked in confusion. He didn't feel right. She tried to push her magic into him, but it resisted her call. It slid off him like oil on water, unable to take hold.

"Can I help you?" he growled in broken French, with a heavy South American accent.

The power in his voice sent chills through her. She pulled her hand away and stepped back. She could feel his soul. It was there... but there was something weird about it. Like it was tethered to something. Or someone. She cursed her luck. Of course, Harper sent her after the one person who-

Her back came against a hard body, and she froze again. The werewolf looked from her to the person behind her. An arm wrapped around her waist, hand resting against her stomach and trapping her against him. "Don't mind if I cut in, do you, Guerrero?" came a silky English accent she would recognize anywhere.

Cyrille.

She was so fucked.

The werewolf shrugged before walking away from them. Cyrille lowered his head to whisper in her ear. "Welcome back, kitten." He purred.

She twisted to escape his grip and run, but he dragged her back with ease. His hands wrapped around the railing on each side of her and locked his elbows, trapping her. He towered over her petite frame. She stopped trying to control her magic and let it lash out. This wasn't about feeding or seduction anymore. It was entirely about self-defense.

He clicked his tongue at her and shook his head. Then his power slammed into her like a ton of bricks, completely overwhelming her senses and overpowering her weakened magic. Slumping against the railing, she fought to catch her breath.

She never should have come back. What did she expect? These were clearly his hunting grounds. There was no way she could stand up to someone like him in a fair fight.

"Put it away," there was a hint of a snarl in his voice. "I only want to talk."

Gods, his voice was beautiful... as was with the rest of him. The hair along the side and back of his head was shorn short, leaving it long enough at the top to graze his cheek and partially obscure one of his eyes. Those deep, sable-black eyes bore into her. It wasn't just the effect of the low lighting. There really was no differentiation between pupil and iris.

Kate fought for control, knowing he would hurt her if her magic got too out of control. His gorgeous mouth twisted into a smirk. "What's your name?"

"Katalin," she wasn't sure if he would hear her over the music. "Everyone just calls me Kate."

"Katalin," the silken butter of his accent made her name sound regal, and a blush started to creep up her cheeks. "Bold of you to show your face again."

"I'm sorry," she bit her lip and wrapped her arms around herself. "I... I'll hunt somewhere else. I didn't-"

"Hunt?" he barked out a laugh. "You must be new to Paris, kitten. That was the werewolf king. He would have eaten you, and not in a fun way."

Kate's stomach dropped to her feet. She wasn't so out of the loop to be ignorant to the rumors of the Alpha King... but... Harper sent her after his gods-forsaken king?!

Her throat closed, and it got hard to breathe. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her whole body started shaking. Cyrille pulled her away from the dance floor. Then, using the hand on her hip, he directed her towards the side door and kept a firm hold over her magic. Once through the door leading to the upper level, he pushed her down on the stairs and shoved her head down between her knees. "Relax," he told her in a less than soothing tone. "No real harm has been done. I'll show you a more reasonable target after you've calmed down."

She laughed. It was a slow, strangled sound and her shoulders rocked with hopeless mirth. "Four years, ten months, one week, and two nights," she muttered.

"What's that?"

She braced her elbows on her knees and ran her hands through her hair, curling her fingers into fists and pulling at the roots until she felt a soothing pain in her scalp. "I have been in Paris for almost five years. I have not hunted once in that entire time. Ever. I have never crossed that line. The first time I do... I target you. A High Sin. And then my dealer tells me to kill his king, or he'll cut me off." Another laugh bubbled up from her throat, followed by a wave of desperate tears filling her eyes, and she looked up to meet his gaze. "I'm fucked."

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards in a smile. "So, you do know what I am."

In slow, deliberate movements, he lowered himself into a crouch in front of her. He was so tall, and she was so short, that he still had to tilt his head to look down at her. The black of his eyes spread to overtake the white until they were consumed by that unforgiving darkness. They were so beautiful... she had been so overwhelmed by fear and lust and hunger that she didn't notice before.

Kate sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, and a blush crept up her face as he inched closer. His mouth hovered just over hers, and she could feel his warm breath washing over her. She struggled not to flinch as he brought a hand up to stroke her cheek. His touch was surprisingly soft and cool. "There are only a handful of demon breeds that can understand the language of my true name. Which one are you?"

"Succubus." She breathed.

He arched an eyebrow. It all made sense now. Her scent, her magic, the way she was able to coax his real name out of him, and the weird pulling on his magic. It was how they, succubi and incubi, taste-tested their victims. Even if she hadn't caught him off guard, he wasn't sure he would have been able to resist her. The total, numbing effect she had on him was incredibly potent. Stronger, even, than Celeste, one of the oldest succubi he knew.

He chuckled and traced the line of her jaw with his thumb. "You are without a legion, I presume?"

She nodded.

"And by dealer, you mean vampire venom?"

"It's pure magic and pleasure in liquid form," her eyes fluttered. "It's not a soul... but it stems the hunger."

He continued to stroke her cheek in slow repetition. Those intense black eyes roamed to her sunken eyes and protruding cheekbones. "Five years," he mused quietly. "It would almost be impressive if it weren't entirely pointless. You're starving yourself for no reason."

When he spoke the words, her eyes suddenly went blank. Her jaw flexed, and she looked down at her hands. "My reasons are my own." She said coolly. "I'll leave. You won't see me again."

She moved to stand up, but he leaned into her to stop her. He tilted her chin back up until her mouth was a breath away from his. "You're not going anywhere." his voice was silky and deep, his eyes blacker than the pits of the veil.

A tremble of fear and, deeper down, excitement washed through her. "Please," the plea came out in barely a whisper. "I'll disappear. I'll leave Paris. I-"

"No," he cut over her. "You're not running away this time. I have a better idea."

Cyrille brushed a soft kiss across her lips. Kate couldn't resist him. Somehow, he had wormed his way into the desperately dark and lonely place in her heart. She hadn't been able to get him out of her head. She melted into his kiss, feeling the blood rush to her face. Her hands clenched into fists in her lap, bunching up the dress as her body started to quiver.

He pulled away too soon. Her eyes fluttered open when he spoke. "Let me feed you."

"H-how?"

A dark, raspy chuckle rumbled in his chest. "What does a succubus need? Pleasure, mutual is best, and through that pleasure, a soul."

"You don't have a soul."

"I have collected a great many in my time on this side of the veil." He tilted his head and kissed her jaw and then down to her neck. "Let me pleasure you. Let me feed you."

She pushed on his chest so she could see his eyes again. "You would just... give me a soul?" she asked skeptically. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," he purred and tried to kiss her again.

She pushed harder to keep him at arm's length and at him. "Why? I'm not a part of your legion. I have nothing to give you."

"Tonight, kitten, I will not ask for anything in return. Consider it a gift."

"You are Avarice," it was a struggle for her to summon the magic to speak his proper name. He shuddered, and his eyes got even darker. "You don't just give something as valuable as a soul away."

Cyrille took her hands from his chest and pulled them up to kiss her palms gently. "You are more valuable than a nameless soul, Katalin. If Lust isn't going to take care of their spawn... I will."

The mention of the other sin made her heart flutter. Her whole body tingled with a mix of fear and excitement. By all accounts, she should have been killed long before she even made it to Paris. So why was she pushing her luck with a High Sin? "I... I don't know what to say."

"Say yes, kitten," he whispered.

She scowled. "Only if you stop calling me that."

His lips curled into a smile. He wrapped an arm around her waist, and the other hand went around her thigh. Then, in a swift motion, he stood up and took her with him, wrapping her legs around his hips and starting up the stairs. "If you don't like it, then tell me your true name."

The demand slammed against her wall of defenses, and her lips curled up in a small smile. She saw it coming a mile away. She let out a nervous laugh. "Just because you let your guard down doesn't mean I'm going to return the favor."

He carried her through the same door as last time and dropped her on a desk in the corner. He claimed her mouth in a rough, demanding kiss. The bulge of his erection rubbed into her core through the thin material of her panties. She let out a low moan, remembering how good he had felt under her last time. Cyrille took the chance to invade her mouth with his tongue. The hard stud of a piercing massaged her tongue sensually, setting her whole body on fire. He took her bottom lip between his teeth and chuckled when she gasped. "Your name, Katalin." He asked again.

The power was intoxicating. It filled her mind and body and the place where her soul should have been. It nearly overwhelmed her in her weakened state. But her walls did not crack.

She took his face with her hands, dragging him back so she could stare into those perilous black eyes. She reached for her limited stores of magic and hissed, "No."

The smirk forming on his lips vanished when his skin started sizzling where her bracelets touched him. He leaped away, snarling. "What the bloody fuck are those things?" he spat.

She wrapped her arms around herself defensively, hiding the bracelets from view. "They keep me safe. They keep my magic in control."

"Your magic wouldn't be out of control if you fed once and a while!"

Cyrille immediately regretted the accusation when she somehow got even smaller. She looked down at the floor before sliding off the desk and shuffling to the door. One failed attempt reminded her that it was locked. "Let me out." Her demand was soft but cold as the deepest glacier.

He sighed and stepped towards her. She kept her back to him, deliberately looking at the door handle and nothing else. Circling his arms around her shoulders, he pulled her back against his chest and let his magic seep into her. She tightly wound muscles slowly started to relax. "Let me help, Katalin." He whispered.

Kate turned in his arms, looking up at him with doubt flickering in her golden eyes. His typical reaction would have been to turn her own magic against her. Use it so she could feel the same wild arousal and deadening calm she had given him. But, for the first time in his life, he hesitated. He didn't... want... to do that to her. He wanted her to come to him on her own. He wanted her to choose him.

Though he had to fight every single one of his natural instincts and habits, Cyrille stepped back. He swiped the card and the door unlocked with a soft click. "I want you to trust me, Katalin," he said gently. "I can feed you, but not while you're wearing those chains. If you're not ready for that... well... you know where to find me when you are."

Kate looked down at her hands again and traced the line of one of the bracelets. In her whole life, she had never taken them off. She didn't even know what would happen if she did. The right thing... the smart thing to do would be to run away. The door was open. She should just... leave.

Looking back into his eyes, she searched for any sign of malice. Any indication that he was lying or using her for his own gain. She needed more than base instinct this time because she wanted to trust him. She wanted to give in to him.

If she had the strength, she could have used his name to command him to tell the truth... but that would only make things worse. She knew from experience that demons did not like it when their names were used against them. He was far more than just a demon, though.

He was a High Sin. Greed. One of the first demons to ever cross the veil. All other demons came from him and the others. Archangels from Wrath, succubi from Lust... how many breeds did he father?

The black of his eyes had receded to a normal, human-like appearance, giving way to the torrent of emotions behind them. She stood there so long in silence that the door locked behind her again. The hand holding the card flexed as if to swipe it again, but he froze as she felt for the clasps.

Tonight, she would trust him. What came after... she would deal with it then.

~