The Way It All Began…Maybe…
Once upon a time, twin boys were born. One was predicted to be a bearer of light, the destined ruler who would protect all humans. He would fly through the skies and guard from above. He would be on the side of good. The righteous.
The other twin…his fate was to be much darker. No goodness was seen in his future. Witches feared him on first sight. Seers turned away, shuddering at the visions they saw.
Because he was born for darkness. Every creature that hid in the night would bow to him. He would rule them. The world would fear him.
He would do very, very bad things.
Time passed. The boys grew up. They lost their humanity and became something far, far more.
One was good…wings spread from his back. Angels bowed to him.
And his brother…
He had a really fucking good time as he did his very, very bad things.
The whiskey burned as it slid down his throat. Luke Thorne loved that little sting. He’d always thought pain could be enjoyable, and the burn that came from a twenty-three-year-old whiskey? Damn good.
He rolled back his shoulders as his gaze swept over the bar. More of a dive really, one right at the tip of Key West. Music was blaring and laughter filled the air, but he could still hear the thunder of the waves right outside. The scent of salt air teased his nose, a scent he liked far better than the bitter odors of sweat and cheap perfume that lingered in the air around him.
Humans were in the bar. Gyrating. Seducing. Boring the ever-loving-hell out of him. He’d thought a visit to the human nightspot would take his mind off his troubles. He’d been wrong.
They’re so clueless. They have no idea of the danger that is sitting right in front of them all. One wave of his hand, one whispered order, and everyone in that bar would be dead.
“You want another?” the bartender asked him.
Luke wasn’t sure how many he’d had so far. But, hey, why not? He tapped the bar top and tossed down more money. One good thing about this dive…
It was the only place in Florida that had his drink of choice. Because he paid the bartender to keep his whiskey in stock.
His finger drummed against the bar. The whiskey wasn’t calming his mind. He was still too torn up over the recent battle. The vampires and the werewolves were pissing him off. Soon enough, he’d have to put a stop to their little wars.
And that meant he’d be killing someone.
I need more than a drink. His gaze slid to the women dancing near the small stage. Women in barely-there skirts and too tiny tops. Maybe I could use a fuck.
As if sensing his gaze, one of the women looked his way. A redhead. Her green eyes widened as their stares locked. She seemed helpless to look away.
Because she was.
That was just part of his power. His appeal. What he wanted…he got.
Someone stepped in front of him, blocking his gaze so that he couldn’t see the redhead any longer. Annoyance flashed through him and a growl built in his throat. How the fuck dare anyone—
“Trust me, you’ll like me better.”
Her voice was like sin. Husky and soft. Tempting and sexy.
She was small, delicate, and wearing the best-looking fuck-me high heeled shoes that he’d seen in ages. Red shoes. Devil red. His favorite color.
His gaze drifted up her legs—long legs wonderfully bared by the skirt she wore, one that was even tinier than the redhead’s had been. Her hips flared and her breasts—oh, he liked what he saw. Full and firm.
“Want to look all the way up?” she asked.
His gaze rose to her face.
And he found he couldn’t look away.
She had the bluest eyes that he’d ever seen. Bright, bright blue. Framed by dark lashes. Lashes that were as dark as the curtain of black hair that surrounded her face. Her lips were red and plump, her forehead high, her nose long and straight.
She wasn’t perfect—he told himself that twice, but he’d never liked perfect. This woman…she was better than boring perfection.
Stunning. Her features just came together in a way that made him think of sex appeal. Pouty lips, bedroom eyes, sharp cheekbones…
So much better.
“Buy me a drink?” she prompted him.
He’d buy her anything she wanted, as long as she kept talking. The sound of her voice seemed to slide right through him, igniting a hunger, a dark need that heated his body. His cock was hard and eager, and the night—oh, yes, it was definitely looking up. He motioned to the bartender. “Get this lovely lady anything she wants.”
The lovely lady in question smiled at him and…dimples winked in her cheeks. He blinked at the sight, a bit bemused. The dimples were an odd touch of…innocence…when the rest of her was so seductive.
“The lady just wants a beer,” she said as she glanced at the bartender. The bartender—Eli Nabb—was staring at her with the same sort of bemused fascination on his face that Luke felt.