Still, there was no sign of her.
As I completed my circuit in the shadows at the edge of the room, I wondered if I’d read the diary entry wrong. If she was in the building, I’d have surely seen her from a distance, recognizing the shimmer of blonde curls from a mile away, but no. She was nowhere to be seen.
I didn’t understand why the thought of failure frustrated me so badly. It was a rotten twist in my guts, my heart beating fast as I continued my scanning and mingling. It shouldn’t matter. It would be one pathetic foray in an attempt to track her down, not even worth breaking a sweat over. I had no idea why it felt like so much more.
I’d find her.
Some way, sometime soon, I’d hunt her down and find her. I just hoped damn fucking hard that it would be tonight. I was slavering over the thought of it.
I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to make her beg and squeal and shiver at my touch.
I’d sipped my way through most of my mineral water when I saw a flash of perfect blonde on the other side of the dancefloor. My stomach did a twist, and the rage burned behind my eyes.
Yes.
Fuck, yes.
I knew it was her, even without a clear view. I knew it by instinct – by the hatred rushing through my veins.
I made my way closer, keeping in the shadows. She was standing next to a tall guy who looked like a vintage throwback, attractive, but a pussy of a man, weak enough looking that I could easily break his neck with one simple twist. Elaine was close to him, pressed up tight, but I knew he hadn’t laid a single dirty hand on her, not in any way that counted. It was another flash of instinct in my gut.
She was staring up at the stage, gazing at the loser bellowing into the mic up there. Yes, it was Elaine Constantine, but she looked . . . different. She’d almost have passed for a normal person, for anyone other than a Constantine. Almost.
Her dress was tight, and clearly expensive, but her makeup was . . . cat-like.
Hot.
Fuck, she was a hot little bitch. Even hotter than she’d been at the masked ball.
She was swigging beer from a bottle, chugging it back nice and hard. It reinforced what I already knew – her alcoholic cravings must have been pretty damn desperate for her to be drinking that cheap shit. And there was more. I only needed to watch her move at pussy boy’s side to know she was coked out.
It seemed the rumors were true. She was an addict. She was indeed a disgrace to the Constantines and all their pompous, classy pretentiousness. She was the disgrace that had everyone rolling their eyes and scowling whenever they gossiped about what a useless little bitch she was.
So, why was she still so fucking attractive to me?
I daren’t get any closer, not without catching her eye. I hovered just out of view, soaking her up as I bristled and boiled, imagining all the things I wanted to do with her.
I wanted to sneak my way into her disgusting family and destroy them one by one. I wanted to tell her just what I thought of that repulsive blood flowing through her veins, and then make her pay for it. Slowly. Filthily. Brutally.
I wanted to do so much to her that my mouth was watering. Lust. Hate. Contempt. All of it simmering deep.
Her family had been on a mission to eradicate mine for decades. They’d torn us down once, but never again. We’d all bleed to death before we gave them a single inch of our wealth, or our pride.
I wondered how pretty Elaine Constantine would look with her family blood on her perfect skin. I wondered how her eyes would glisten with tears as she stared up into the malice in mine.
I wondered how much I could make her pussy stretch for me before she screamed.
It was funny, looking around me at all the people in that room, just how evil a monster I was amongst them. So many idiots living their idiot lives, having no idea such a beast was in their midst.
A girl with pink hair banged into me as she swung herself to the beat, slamming hard into my chest and spilling the last of my water over my shirt. She spun around with a sorry, and I had to choke back the need to make her pay.
I couldn’t. Not tonight. I was Terence Kingsley. Terence Kingsley didn’t do Morelli torment in a downtown dive.
I tipped my head and forced a smile, and she smiled back, then kept her eyes on me.
“Hey,” she said. “Shall I get you another?”
I leaned in close and summoned my Brit accent. “No, thank you.”
Still her eyes stayed fixed on mine.
“You sure? I’d really like to. Water, right?”
Her smile was dirty. Her scent was cheap.
Sometimes I liked cheap. I liked tempting it with cash and demanding whatever I wanted. I’d learned at a very early age that there is nothing on this planet that is unobtainable. Everything has a price. Everyone has a price.
I imagined her cash value would be a low one.
I glanced back over at Elaine, and she was still gazing at the prick on stage like a bitch in heat.
“Sure,” I told the pink-haired girl. “I’ll have another water.”
“Cheap date.” She laughed and took my empty bottle from me.
Oh, the irony.
She headed over to the bar, and I waited, my stare still hard on Elaine. I was so focused on blondie that pink hair had to nudge my side before I realized she was back. She handed me my fresh water, smile still bright on her face.
“You from England?”
I nodded. “London.”
“Ace,” she said. “I went there once when I was young. I loved it. Buckingham Palace was my fave.”
I could barely hear her over the shitty music, but I could hear well enough to know she was slurring drunk.
“Everyone loves Buckingham Palace,” I told her.
“Right! That’s because it’s awesome!” she gushed and leaned in closer. “Come here often?”
My answer was short and simple. “No.”
It was right then that the band on stage finished up their song and took a bow for the crowd. Done. Finished.
Thank fuck for that.
The throng of revellers didn’t get the chance to disappear from the dancefloor before the main act came up onto the stage. That’s when I recognized him – the Blue Hawk guy I’d checked out online.
He looked better in the flesh than I’d seen him in photos – a cocky, smirking performer with a decent ripple of meat through his frame. Hardly a surprise the room was cheering for him. Especially not when his voice started up and flowed right through the venue.
He was good.
I looked across at blondie, and pussy boy at her side was air punching and whooping. He ducked down to Elaine, and she was laughing as they cheered.
“I LOVE Blue Hawk,” the pink-haired girl at my side squealed, and I forced my attention back to her.
“Love Blue Hawk enough to be your favorite?”
“My favorite EVER,” she told me. “He’s been my favorite for years. I’ve been waiting for this gig for months. I’m at every one of his I could book these next three months. Every single one!”
Oh, the challenge. Oh, to surpass her years’ worth of excitement with one tiny click of my fingers.
I pressed my mouth to her ear, and she tensed. I loved how she tensed for me.
My eyes were on Elaine Constantine when I spoke next, loud enough for pink hair to hear me, even as the bass from the stage struck up loud.
“Come outside with me,” I said. “Now.”