Astasiya Davenport's best friend is dead. No, not just dead--murdered. Burned alive. Decapitated. And the only one who can help her figure out what happened is a demon masquerading as a billionaire playboy.
Because that happens in real life.
Yet Astasiya has always known the supernatural exists. Not the kind in fairy tales or happily-ever-afters, but the kind that kills.
Issac Wakefield knows the rules--when you find a fledgling immortal in the city, you kill her. Except Astasiya intrigues him with her uncanny abilities, marking her as too useful for death.
With revenge on his mind, he strikes up an agreement with her instead, one that'll benefit them both. But as complications arise, secrets unravel, initiating a lethal game that threatens both of their lives.
Loyalties will be tested.
Bonds will be made.
And a forbidden love will rise.
Welcome to the Immortal Curse world, where angels and vampires are redefined and Seraphim reign.
2017 New Apple Book Awards Romance Solo Medalist Winner
***
"What are you wearing under this dress?" he asked, his mouth brushing hers, the words whisper-soft.
Not what she expected him to say. "E-excuse me?"
His teeth sank into her lower lip, making her yelp. "Focus."
On what? The demon club? The humans dying downstairs? The fact that you're a f*cking vampire? Where should I begin?
He sighed, his forehead falling to hers. "Astasiya, we have very little time to sort this before the Conclave. I need you to work with me. Both our lives depend on it. What are you wearing?"
She cleared her throat, her hold on his neck tightening as if needing his support to respond. And maybe she did. This was all a lot to take in. "A, uh, thong," she managed to say. "And a strapless bra." Both black and lacy, but she didn't add that part.
One of his hands drifted from her hair to her waist, then down to her ass. His palm flattened and forced her to arch up into him. A breath hitched in her throat at the feel of his growing arousal.
He's turned on... here... now?
She trembled, the heat of his body seeping into her cool skin, warming her blood. They were standing rather close. And he smelled amazing, as always.
Anywhere else, in the dark, she'd have kissed him.
But here...
"The dress will have to stay, then," he said, the disappointment evident in his voice.
She frowned. "What's wrong with my dress?" It hit her midthigh and clung to her curves. She looked good in it.
He ignored her, his mouth brushing hers in a chaste kiss as his hips pressed firmly into hers.
Definitely aroused.
"You're going to see things tonight that will make you want to scream, but you must remain calm and quiet. Mortals who overreact die, and they die badly."
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