CHAPTER TWO
ASHLEY — POV
We walk down the street, leaving the bar behind us. The further we get, the lighter I feel, as if I escaped something I should never have been near in the first place. But that uneasy sensation still lingers—right beneath my skin.
Megan jogs slightly to catch up with me and grabs my arm. "Ashley, wait. Seriously, what was that back there? You looked like you saw a ghost."
I pull my arm back gently. "I don't know what I saw. I just know… I didn't like it."
"Yeah, but he was hot," Megan says, rolling her eyes like that should be the main point. "Tall, fine, confident, expensive clothes… girl, please. Men like that don't just appear for no reason."
"That's exactly my point," I say. "He felt like someone who appears for no good reason."
Chloe bites her lip, thoughtful. "You mean vibes?"
I nod. "Exactly. Bad vibes."
Megan laughs. "Ashley, please. You're just too spiritual. You're always looking for signs and meanings and omens."
"And maybe that's why she's alive," Chloe says calmly. "We've seen Ashley walk away from things that later turned out to be trouble."
Megan sighs. "Alright, fine. But seriously, he wasn't even being rude. He just asked a question."
"That wasn't the problem," I say quietly.
I can still feel his presence like cold ink spreading beneath my skin. His eyes had unsettled me, not because they were intense, but because they felt like he saw straight through me—past my face, my clothes, my expression—down into something deeper.
Like he recognized me.
From where, I don't know.
We continue walking until we reach the lounge I suggested earlier. It's calmer, with warm lights and low music—a place where you can actually breathe. The moment we step inside, I relax just a little.
We find a booth, and Chloe leans in. "Okay, Ashley. Be honest. Did you feel attracted to him? Even a little?"
"No," I say too quickly. "It wasn't attraction. It was… warning."
Megan rolls her eyes. "Girl, your instincts need to chill."
I ignore her and focus on the menu. Something warm and calming would help—maybe tea or a soft cocktail.
I'm halfway through reading when my phone buzzes.
A message.
I expect it to be from my workplace, or maybe my older sister. But when I unlock the phone, my blood chills.
Unknown Number:
You left too quickly. We didn't finish our conversation.
My heart hammers against my ribs.
Chloe leans over. "Ashley? What's wrong?"
I turn the screen toward her.
Her eyes widen.
Megan snatches the phone. "Oh my God! The guy texted you? How? You didn't even talk!"
"I didn't give him my number," I whisper.
Megan shrugs. "Maybe he saw your number on your bracelet or something."
"I'm not wearing any bracelet," I say.
Chloe frowns. "Then how did he…?"
A shiver runs down my back.
I don't answer.
Because the truth is scarier than anything they could guess:
I felt him.
He felt me.
And people like him…
don't need numbers to find someone.
---
DAMIEN — POV
She walked away from me.
That alone makes her special.
You don't understand how rare that is. Humans—men, women, young, old—react to me the same way. Drawn in. Captivated. Curious. Willing.
They don't walk away without looking back.
They don't ignore me.
They don't feel danger.
But she did.
Ashley.
Yes.
I know her name.
Not because she said it, but because names are written in the energy of a person. The purer the soul, the brighter the name burns. Hers burns like sunlight—soft, warm, powerful.
I haven't seen that kind of purity in years.
Which is why my master will want her.
But I want her first.
Sandra—no, Brianna tonight—is clinging to my arm, giggling like a child who has already had too much alcohol. Her heavy perfume mixes with the stench of the bar as we step outside. My boys walk behind us, whispering and glancing at me like they think I'm fragile now.
Pathetic.
I ignore them.
My mind is entirely on the girl who walked away with her head high and her spirit untouched.
"Damien," Eric says, stepping up beside me. "You're quiet."
I don't respond.
"You're thinking about her," he adds.
My jaw tightens. "Thinking is a strong word."
Mason snorts. "Yeah, right."
I glance at them, and they fall silent.
They know better than to push.
We walk down the alley to the warehouse—our usual territory. The night is colder than usual, and the moon is brighter than it should be. Everything feels sharpened, heightened.
Just like my senses.
I take out my phone and trace the faint trail of energy Ashley left behind. Pure souls leave signatures—clean, bright, warm. Hers is different. Stronger than most. It pulls me like a magnet.
It takes no effort to find her number.
And I send the message.
You left too quickly.
We didn't finish our conversation.
The boys see the text, and Mason whistles. "Bro, you're obsessed."
"No," I say calmly. "I'm intrigued."
"Same thing," Jordan mutters.
I smirk. "Trust me. When I'm obsessed, you'll know."
He shivers slightly. Good. He remembers the last time.
We step inside the warehouse and set up the table for the game. Brianna is practically trembling with anticipation. She doesn't even notice that she's being examined like prey.
"Relax," I say, placing a hand on her lower back. "You're safe."
She blushes, her eyes softening. "I trust you."
Of course she does.
Humans always trust the monster smiling at them.
But even as I deal the cards, even as Brianna leans toward me, even as the boys joke and drink…
My mind drifts back to Ashley.
To the way she didn't flinch.
To the way she stared straight into my eyes.
To the way she sensed something she shouldn't be able to sense.
She is trouble.
But the delicious kind.
The kind worth chasing.
The kind worth claiming.
The kind worth corrupting so thoroughly that even angels would weep.
When the game ends, and Brianna is drunk on victory or alcohol—probably both—I help her to her feet. She leans into me, her perfume overwhelming.
I place an arm around her waist.
But my mind is elsewhere.
Ashley.
Ashley.
Ashley.
The girl who walked away.
The girl who felt like light wrapped in human skin.
The girl whose soul called to the darkest part of me.
I can't remember the last time I felt this kind of pull.
And tonight isn't the end.
I will find her again.
And next time…
She won't walk away.