Page 39 of Dancing With Demons

“Strip.”

Chapter Five

Sixteen Hours Earlier

Ronin

“So your answer is no?” I asked, backing away.

She nodded. “It’s no. We’re both asking too much of each other, so, let’s stop. You don’t have to protect me, and I won’t bond with you. But maybe we could, you know, be friendly with each other from here on out?”

I scoffed, turning on my heels and walking out. “You and your made-up words.”

I slammed the door shut on her sigh.

Crossing to the end of the hall, I made it all the way to the second floor and outside of my room, before punching a hole through the wall.

“Arrggghh!” I roared, anger steaming and boiling my blood. “What is it with this blasted woman?! Why does she refuse me? Me! No one fucking refuses me! There was once a bidding war for my toenails! They sold for two million silver obols!”

Ripping my fist out, I shook the dust and debris from my knuckles as I ignored the fool who shouted through the wall—cursing me for punching a hole in his dorm room.

Kicking my door open, I paced the length of my carpet—my mind spinning as the naked woman in my bed beckoned me over.

“Ro-Ro, what are you doing?” Kama rolled on my sheets, giggling and purring at me. “Come over here and join me.”

“What is wrong with her? Is she broken? Is she blind?” I hissed, tapping my lips. “She’s never seen me without my glamour, but what does that matter? Even with the glamour, I’m a million times more handsome than the mutt, and I’m richer and more powerful than he is. Why does she pant after his protection but reject mine?”

Neither the air nor my mind had an answer to my questions, but the voice in my head did have a response.

“This won’t do.”

“No, this won’t do at all.” Reaching into the fold of my jacket, I took out the mirror.

This mirror was advanced, tricky magic. The cost of it was the continuous, nonstop feeding of my magic to keep it powered, to keep it watching, to keep it recording. But never had the cost been more worth it.

The clouds and swirls contained in the mirror’s depths parted, leaving only her.

Charlotte was where I left her, standing beside the bedroom door. Turning away, she dropped down cross-legged on the armchair and started fiddling with her phone.

“Ro-Ro? Hello?” Temper leaked into Kama’s voice. “Ronin, are you listening to me!”

Tapping the screen, the view spun around—positioning me as if I was looking over her shoulder. It gave me the perfect view of Tristan scrawled all over her DeadDrop screen.

A snarl tore from my lips. “This fucking mutt again. Guess it wasn’t enough to kick him to another wing.”

Another tap and the view changed, refocusing on Charlotte. Only Charlotte.

I traced the edges of her smile, anger rising as she laughed at something he’d written.

“Everything I want is mine,” I whispered, snapping my fingers and vanishing a screeching Kama back to where she came from. “And everything you want, Charlotte, is and will be... me.”

THAT NIGHT, I WATCHED as Charlotte drifted off to sleep beside her precious sister. I’d never had one of those, but I couldn’t imagine I was missing anything. Everyone I knew with a sister has had to defend against at least half a dozen murder attempts from said sister. Why Hunter was so protective of a homicidal rival who was born of Lucifer, I’d never know, but these days the mirror constantly showed her as two people—her and the sister attached to her hip.

As Charlotte’s breaths evened in sleep, I snapped my fingers and I was there—standing at the foot of her bed.

I approached in the dark, my feet as soundless as a demon’s should be.

“Mmhh,” she moaned, a frown stealing over her lips.