Chapter Forty-Three
The Hunter
It was tempting to let her go. Yes, I was angry about the burn to my arm. Her escape had also bruised my ego because I prided myself on being a good hunter, and that stupid little cunt shouldn’t have escaped. Still, going after her was risky, especially with the warlock closely guarding her.
Unfortunately for her, I dreamed of her torment every night. Killing her had become an obsession I couldn’t let go of, so I had to come up with a plan to take her. There had to be a way to get her bodyguards away from her. If I could get the bitch alone, she’d be mine to torture. Reaching a hand down to stroke my throbbing erection, I imagined her agonized screams.
The incoming call interrupted my fantasy, and I was tempted to ignore it. Unfortunately, I knew I couldn’t. Tonight, there would be another ceremony, and I’d already selected the succubus. Sadly, it wouldn’t be the cunt who’d gotten away.
“What is it?” I snapped into the phone.
“Have you picked a sacrifice for tonight’s ritual yet?” the irritating asshole calling me asked.
“I’m working on the details,” I said impatiently, not sharing the fact that I already had everything planned out. Let the little prick worry.
“Maybe I need another partner,” the arrogant bastard stated. “Yes, it might be time to find a partner who can actually deliver on his promises.”
The rage building inside of me was almost overwhelming, and I really wanted to kill someone. Luckily, I’d get that chance tonight. “Just be at the meeting place on time,” I said before hanging up.
Looking over at my laptop, I stared at the screen. Alana Talbot’s face stared back at me. “Soon,” I murmured, as I reached out to touch the screen. “You might be foolish enough to think you're safe with your warlock, but your days are numbered.”
My phone buzzed again, and I saw it was a message from the little prick. When I read the message, I had trouble containing my rage. Staring at her picture on the screen again, I felt fury and disappointment mix. “I’ll bet you think this change of plans means you’re safe, don’t you, bitch? Well, guess again.”