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

leaves in a serious huff to fill it.
    “I’m no girl,” my companion says softly, voice heavy with meaning. “And I’m after more than your heart.”
    “Be careful what you wish for,” I warn. “You may not like what you get.”
    Jazz laughs darkly. He knows what a broken string of relationships I’ve left in my wake. The urge to punch him rises again. Instead, I kick his chair underneath the table. The longest relationship I’ve had is with a succubus who’s draining the life out of me.  
    “So who’s the babe?” he asks, then gulps the rest of the beer in his bottle. “Another groupie?”
    “Ha ha. I’m tempted to say ‘fuck you’, but you’d take it as an invitation.” I slide my hand up to her hip and curl her tighter to me. “We crashed past the name exchange stage.”
    “I’d say.” His grin turns wolfy. “Wanna share, Mace?”
    “Hell no.”  
    “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Jazz mutters.
    Yes, I can , I think.  
    Jeneva returns with two beers and a shot of tequila for Jazz. She never takes her eyes off the “goddess” at my side, even when she takes my money.  
    “Keep the change,” I tell her. Polite way of saying to get to stepping. Instead she leans closer, shifting her gaze to me, then back to the bombshell on my arm.  
    “You from outta town?”
    “Yes.” One word, in a tone that says Jeneva isn’t worthy of more.
    “Well.” The waitress turns so she’s not looking at me when she says, “Watch that one. He’s not good dating material.” Her way of trying to protect the claim Naami has staked on me.
    The curvy blonde loses some of her humanness when she curls her lips into a smile and growls, exactly like a lion only somehow feminine. “Your opinion is of no consequence,” she says in a dead-even, threatening tone.
    Huffing something about last call, Jeneva flees the table. The “goddess” turns in my arm, and says, “Is she attached to you? I won’t trifle with an attached man.”  
    “No. She’s just the friend of a woman I used to…date.”
    “Good. Because I do not share, and I will not compete.”
    “There is no competition,” I promise.
    I cup her face in my hands. Heat and electricity thrum in her touch when she covers my hands with hers. How could this gorgeous woman think any common mortal could ever be competition for me? She gives me back what Naami took, she sets my soul spinning.
    “We are quite a pair,” I say, voice just above a whisper.
    “We are.” From her mouth, the words have the power of a binding, a proclamation, and I see in her eyes she believes it.
    “Look,” I blurt, “it’s closing time, and I still don’t know your name. How am I gonna find you again?”
    “You won’t.”
    My eyebrows drop, I feel the weight of a frown suddenly very there over my eyes. I let it form. Screw Jazz, he can ride my ass for it later. “What do you mean, I won’t?”
    “Just that,” she purrs. “You won’t. I will find you.”
    She has. Now that we’ve forged such a hot burning bond, I doubt she could lose me. Still, the thought of not seeing her again, not tasting her sweat, cupping her curves… Torture.  
    “I’ve got something for you, then,” I say. “Something that might help you to find me.”
      I stand on the supports of the barstool to rummage in my pocket. I know I had a pair in my other jeans, which are balled up and wanting a wash in the bag in the dressing room. Then in the back pocket I find what I’m looking for.
    “Here.” I hand the slightly battered slip of paper to the “goddess”.
    She scans it, her gaze running over the band’s name and information printed there.
    “It’s a concert ticket,” I say. She’s more than human, ripping into this plane from somewhere else. Maybe she hasn’t been to a show. “Do they have concerts…where you’re from? I know it’s a small venue, but I thought maybe you could come and see me…”  
    “No,” she replies. “But I would love to