LITMIR.BIZ

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      She imagined him spread out on a buffet table. If he were a food, he would be a Grade A fillet, marinated in a rich sweet-and-tangy sauce—and sprinkled with enough cayenne pepper to burn just right.

      No. No! Bad Elin. But...he’d looked at her with dark intent, only to touch her with tender kindness. He’d broken a man’s wrist for grazing his wing, only to demand Elin caress it.

      He was a bundle of contradictions. But then, so was she, both frightened of him and attracted to him. An attraction that would only get her in trouble. He held her future in his strong, snap-her-neck-with-a-single-flick-of-his-wrist hands.

      Even still, there was no controlling her body’s reactions to him. In his presence, wanton heat liquefied her bones. And her brain! She forgot who she was, who he was, saying “screw you” to the vast gulf between them and the danger he represented to her, focusing only on the things they could be doing to each other. Kissing, tasting. Licking. Touching. Stroking.

      Devouring.

      She shivered at the thought. Then she cursed.

      These reckless desires meant nothing, changed nothing. Thane was her boss, and therefore off-limits. He was also a borderline sociopath with extra stakes, and he would hurt her the moment he learned of her origins. But the nail in the I-wanna-slice-of-that coffin, besides her vow to Bay? He was a blatant womanizer.

      He and Blondie had clearly gone nuclear between the sheets. His hair had been tousled, the strands sticking out in spikes. There had been claw marks in his cheek and bite marks on his neck.

      Elin ignored the pang in her chest.

      He wasn’t worth the mental anguish he would surely inflict on her. So, pursue him? Break her vow? Become one in a line of thousands? Lose her cash cow of a job, not to mention her new, blooming friendship with the other barmaids? No, thanks.

      So, moving on. Elin donned the rest of the trinkets she’d won and headed to her room. She desperately needed a nap.

      Bellorie was sprawled on her bed, wearing adorable flannel pj’s and reading a book—Decapitation For Idiots—looking so normal Elin momentarily flashed back to college.

      She’d attended the University of Arizona what seemed a lifetime ago, getting married when she was only six credits shy of a business-management degree, and deciding to take time off and finish later. After all, her best years were ahead of her.

      Yeah. Right. If “best years ahead” is the answer, then “things stupid people say” is the question.

      She’d moved out of the dorm, and into an apartment with Bay, but oh, how she’d missed the way her roommate used to stack pizza boxes in the corner. She’d enjoyed making art out of empty beer cans. There’d been a message board on the door and borrowed clothes from six different people on the floor. The clash of diverse styles and tastes should have been overwhelming, but they had been comforting. There’d been nothing to worry about but midterms and which party to crash.

      This new bedroom provided the same whimsical variety. One of the beds seemed to be made from LEGO. Another had a huge stuffed panda as the headboard. The only side table had wooden human legs as the, well, legs, with fake vomit spilled on top. The reading chair was normal, but the ottoman in front of it was shaped like a turtle, with the head, arms and legs peeking out at the bottom.

      “Hey,” Elin said, noting the other girls hadn’t yet arrived.

      Dark eyes flipped up and landed on her. “Hey, yourself. You little hooker,” the Harpy added with a sunny laugh. “Look at you, flaunting your prize so blatantly. I’m impressed.”

      “I know, right.” She performed a twirl, knowing the diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and rubies sparkled in the light. “You jelly?”

      “Beyond.” A smiling Bellorie threw the book at her. Despite how fast and strong the girl was, Elin managed to jump out of the way in time. And it was a good thing she succeeded, because the corner of the hardback lodged into the wall. Had that been her head...

      Instant goner.

      “Oops.” Bellorie made a my-bad face. “For a minute there, I forget you’re only human. But you’re getting good at dodging. You might be a halfway decent member of Multiple Scorgasms after all.”

      Highly doubtful. Elin wasn’t strong enough to lift the boulders, so she couldn’t throw them. And if someone actually hit her with one of those death missiles, her internal organs would burst. Right now, she wasn’t exactly sure what position she would play. Other than...bait? What she did know—she did not like the sport. It was far too violent and a trigger to the worst of her emotions.

      “Oh, and just FYI,” Bellorie added. “We play the Spinal Tappers this weekend, and the Rockzillas after that.”

      “Yay.” Elin managed to pull off a convincing fist pump. “But are you sure I’m ready? Maybe I should ride the pine for those. You know, continue to learn through observation.”

      “Nah. You need to experience a true scorgasm of your own.”

      “I suppose.” Renlay would have wanted her to play so bad. Her dad, a major adrenaline junkie, would have cheered like a madman. Bay would have had to drink a case of beer to calm his nerves. But all three of them would have been proud of her.

      And...something was wrong, she thought with a frown.

      What?

      She’d thought of her family and—

      Hadn’t immediately remembered the deaths they’d faced. Hadn’t cried.

      Something wasn’t wrong. Something was different. Why?

      Before she could ponder the answer, a knock sounded at the door.

      “Enter at your own peril,” Bellorie called.

      Adrian stepped inside, his size startling Elin all over again. “Where are Chanel and Savy?”

      He must have followed directly behind her, and yet she hadn’t heard him. Gotta work on my awareness.

      “Chanel’s on a blind date,” Bellorie replied. “The guy had his eyes removed by his brother, or something like that. And Savy took off right after her shift. Don’t know where. Octavia is out buying ice cream—not that you asked.”

      Dude! Why hadn’t Octavia offered to bring Elin a scoop of double dark chocolate?

      Adrian sighed. “Very well. I need you and Elin to come with me to help remove Thane’s newest plaything.”

      No! First instinct—curiosity that did not need to be assuaged.

      Yes! Second—physical preservation.

      Mentally and emotionally, no good could come of seeing the kind of girl Thane preferred, up close and personal, after he’d had his big hands and sinful mouth all over her. Elin would not be jealous—not anymore, dang it!—but because of her silly attraction to him, she might begin to wonder what it would feel like to have the man’s hands and mouth all over her. It would be better just to avoid all things Thane until her lustful feelings faded.

      And they would.

      They had to.

      When she dated, she wanted nice. Normal.

      Wait. No. She didn’t want to date. She didn’t want a man. Not even a so-called “normal” one. She wanted to be alone.

      Right?

      “I’m too tired,” she said, risking castigation. She didn’t have to force a yawn. It came on its own. “You two go on, have fun. Live it up. Send me a postcard, and all that jazz.”

      Bellorie rolled her eyes. “You’re going, you little hussy, and that’s final. This is a twofer job, and Adrian’s not allowed to touch the opposite sex.”

      He wasn’t? Why?

      Elin glanced over at him, hoping he would offer

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