Page 51 of Problematic

I would stop holding back.

And that would ruin both our lives.

I picked up the equipment case and headed for the door. It was best not to test that theory tonight. The cameras were live. The ward was holding. Her apartment was secure. That satisfied me for now.

Somewhere across the city my mate was walking home with absolutely no idea that the man who had just installed surveillance equipment in her home had also discovered her preferred flavor of fictional psychopath.

My mouth curved slowly as I stepped into the hallway.

This situation was becoming increasingly entertaining.

And that . . .

. . . was probably a very bad sign.

Lux

The North District was filled with the quiet arrogance of demons who believed wealth made them untouchable.

Tall iron gates. Marble steps and wards humming faintly through the air. The houses sat back from the road with warm light spilling through tall windows, every building whispering of legacy and superiority to the rest of the city.

Most of it meant nothing to me.

Power had never cared much about architecture.

I stopped at the gate and looked up at the house.

White stone. Three ward layers. Elegant ironwork.

The wards broke the second my aura brushed them.

Not dramatically. No thunder. Just three sharp cracks as the magic collapsed inward like brittle glass under pressure.

Inside the house a light flickered.

A few seconds later, the front door opened.

She stepped onto the porch cautiously, posture tight with the awareness that something had broken her defenses but with the confidence of someone who believed she lived in a district where problems rarely arrived uninvited.

Mid-tier demon.

Sharp cheekbones. Carefully pinned hair. Jewelry chosen to signal her importance.

Her eyes landed on me.

Recognition followed immediately.

Her spine straightened.

Fear flickered across her face.

Then ambition swallowed it.

“Lord Draven,” she said smoothly, as if we had encountered each other at a formal gathering rather than the quiet end of her life. “This is unexpected.”

I leaned one shoulder against the broken gate and watched her for a moment without answering.

Calculation ran clearly across her expression. Why I was here. What she could gain from it. Which version of my reputation she hoped had decided to visit tonight.