Read In Pursuit of Prey: Of Gods and Consorts, Book 1 for Free Online

many more after,” I purr, then run my finger down his chest and hook it in the waist of his low-slung jeans.
    His grin is slow, burns like fire, then he says, “It’s a date.”
    “What about tonight?” I suggest. I can’t hide my eagerness. “You could come back to my Temple with me…”
    “With me all sweaty?”
    “Did I not just lick your skin?” I tug on his pants and catch a flash of skin. “I don’t mind the taste of a man’s salt.”  
    “Really?” His eyebrow rises, and a note of piqued interest warms his voice. “What kind of a goddess are you?”  
    “A goddess of feminine sexual heat,” I answer. “And of vengeance.”
    It’s Mace’s turn to smile. “An interesting combination. ‘Hell hath no fury—’”
    “Something like that,” I say, dropping my voice low, winding another purr through it. I pull him close, using his jeans as a handle, then slide my hands around to cup his butt. We’re so close, our breaths mingle. “So, is that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ to my invitation?”
    His eyes shadow a moment, but then brighten. “Oh, hell yeah.”  
    “You won’t be in hell,” I promise, sliding a hand around his body to graze across his strained zipper. “But, ‘yes’ is a good answer.”
    “Then maybe we should get off this stage,” he suggests, poring a stare down my body, “and out of here.”
    “That would be divine.”  
    He turns to Jazz, busy unplugging instruments and coiling cables, and says, “We’re out of here.”  
    “Uh-huh.” Jazz grunts. “You and the ‘Sex Goddess’ go have fun.” A rather facetious comment, I’m certain, yet the musician has no idea how correct his jibe is. Jealousy is his motivator, not truth—it’s written on every line of his sunken eyebrows and tight-lined lips. But he will never know the full extent of my goddess powers—those are for Mace’s sole exploration.
    Hand in hand, Mace and I step offstage. At the edge of the dance floor, Jeneva stands holding my lace shirt in her furled fist. Mace freezes beside me, his gaze snapping back and forth between me and the snipe I believe is a follower to someone of dark magick.
    A grin curls my lips, one I know is as sharp as my leonine teeth would be. With a snap of my fingers, the shirt disintegrates to a fall of white, shimmering on its path from her fingers to the floor. Her eyes open to goblet-size, then narrow to a glare before she stomps away. She’ll contact whoever her master is, I’m certain. Small consequence. It’s Mace’s reaction I care about, not hers.
    He stares at the scattering of white on the floor, then shifts his gaze back to me. I arch an eyebrow. We have much to discuss if he cannot handle a teensy show of magick.
    His lips crook in a lopsided smile. His expression shows surprise, but not the shock an inexperienced mortal would have. The black thread that once strangled his soul comes to mind. He’s no stranger to magick—even if he doesn’t know he has his own.  
    One of the men in the crowd staggers closer, spilling beer from his cup with every lurching step. “Hey, Mace.” He stops talking to wipe spittle from his chin. “When’s the next live sex show?”
    Every muscle tenses in Mace’s body. He untwines his fingers from mine, and balls his hand into a fist. He has no hackles, yet I feel him bristle against the slur. Rosy red mist leeches into my vision, and almost instantly I seethe for vengeance. Yes, it was a private moment made public—it wasn’t meant for cretins to make rude comments about.  
    However, this is Mace’s time, his chosen place, and it would look bad if I ripped the man’s lips off and fed them to him. Mace doesn’t act on his obvious anger though, choosing instead to remain by my side.
    “Sorry,” Mace deadpans. “One time only. But maybe your sister’ll give you a little action.”
    The antagonist’s jaw drops. Then, seeming to favor an appearance of intellect, he snaps it shut again.
    The palpable tension eases