When Malcolm Gould stared at you, you were frozen in place, rooted to your seat on the uncomfortable bar stool, unable to move, let alone breathe. When those midnight blue eyes fell on me, I couldn't tell whether he wanted to kill me or fuck me. Regardless, I longed for his callused hands to wrap around my throat the way they wrapped around the bottle of beer he was drinking and touch me in ways I had never been touched before.
I liked pain, and Malcolm Gould was known for giving pain.
And he seemed to know that.
This was my second night here, hoping to get closer to him despite the danger. I never frequented the same bar twice. The last thing I needed was to be made as a monster hunter who let one of the bastard's mind—fuck me like I was letting this Fae do now.
A week ago, I had steadied my hand from plunging the dagger into his heart the first night I came here, and he froze me in place with a mere glance. I had tried to shake it off and done eight other kills in the meantime. But Malcolm drew me back in, invading my thoughts, my dreams, which was why I was here again. To figure out why he had such sway over me and to end it.
The bar grew hotter, quieter as the intensity between me and my prey spiked. Or I imagined having the upper hand and I was the quarry. I licked my lips, hating they trembled more than I planned, and inclined my head in an invitation to the empty bar stool next to me.
His mouth quirked in a crooked grin and my breath hitched. He shouldn't be affecting me like this. Not when I had a job to remove all of his kind from the city. The vermin took everything from humans: money, power, sex and life. They lived on the essence of a human's soul. As far as I was concerned, every single one of the Fae could crawl back into whichever layer of hell they'd come from.
"I've seen you here before, yes?" His breath tickled my throat as he leaned in.
But he didn't know I sensed him using his magic and charm that echoed in my head like someone had struck a crystal wind chime to seduce me and ensure his words were clear over the noise.
"Been to lots of places." I smirked, slightly turning my body to face him. I'd dressed the part tonight, like I always did on a hunt like this, in a black cocktail dress that hit my thighs. There were slices in the fabric to show more skin and distract from the extra folds and pockets I'd sewn into it to hide my weapons.
"Why, do you come here often? Maybe you can recommend a better martini than the one I'm having." I twirled my glass for effect. "It seems watered down."
His laugh drew multiple stares from women and men alike throughout the bar. It took everything in me not to jump him right there and then. Yeah, this Fae was way too dangerous. I was immune to most of their powers, yet Malcolm had my panties already damp with his closeness.
"You don't know who I am, do you?" he asked.
Sure I did. Since my last visit here, I'd researched Malcolm Gould—doubted that was his real name—and discovered all I wanted and more about the Fae playboy. He owned this bar along with two other unnamed business associates. He went through girlfriends like a junkie on crack and never looked back, leaving a trail of missing women or broken ones in his tracks.
"Should I know you?" I snapped my fingers, feigning ignorance. "Wait, wait you're that football player that scored the touchdown for the other team last week, right?"
His growl sent a shiver racing up my back, but instead of feeling I was on dangerous ground, it only excited me more. Shit! Just what kind of Fae is Malcolm?
"I own this bar."
"And you play pro—ball too?" I took a sip of my drink, purposely spilling a bit so he'd think I was drunker than he first thought. "Wow."
"No, just the bar." He sat on the bar stool beside me so smoothly like he had practiced the move a hundred times before. Reaching across the bar, his arm grazed mine and sent my core tightening. He gathered some cocktail napkins and handed them to me.
I dabbed at my dress, crossing my legs and letting one trail closer to his.
"How about we go upstairs, to a more private area to hear each other better." He leaned forward, his leg brushing aside mine.
His space filled mine, and I swore my aura purred from the contact.
"Private? Meaning your bedroom?" I leaned back a fraction, forcing my brows to furrow. Fae like Malcolm wanted to be in charge, and they liked the chase. Make it too easy and he might lose interest and snatch up one of the other women drooling over him. "Sorry, I don't do sexual romps with strangers."
"Who said anything about sex? Though if that's what's on your mind, I can certainly entertain the idea." His fingertips traced the edge of my dress along my thigh.
My thoughts jumbled into images of me and him tangled in sheets and screaming his name as ecstasy washed through me. I shook my head to dislodge the growing need to feel him inside me. To see if he was as good as I believed.
No, I needed to keep my head. As soon as we were alone, I had to kill him. Before he took whatever he wanted from me and left me dead.