GAJA J. KOS

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My fingers itched to wrap around the handle of my trusty blade. Much like every damn nerve inside me screamed to burst from my perch among the thick shadows and dart across the terrain; give the assholes one last surprise in their lives.

But desires and commands rarely aligned.

Thanks to the latter, all I could do was lurk on the ledge like a stalker and watch the fuckers syphon power from the vulnerable energy point.

Frustration twisted my face into something between a grimace and a sneer. All the previous times had been bad enough, but getting cockblocked—well, bladeblocked was probably the better term—now…

The dickheads encircling the valve weren’t even Raya’s demons, but individuals belonging to various courts, all of them believing they could have a nice, fat slice of cake at this illegal party they had going on. 

Apparently, they truly could.

I wound my own shadows tighter around me—a self-imposed straitjacket to counter the anger simmering in my blood and threatening to spill over. Spending more time in the Shadow World after years of rapid drive-bys came with an unexpected side effect. 

I’d grown protective of my native realm.

Though it seemed I wasn’t the only one who’d changed my tune.

A stray wisp of energy rubbed against me. The nine demons pounced on the leak, gobbling it up immediately. Team-fucking-work. 

I suppressed a bitter snort. 

Yeah, definitely not the only one who’d changed my damn tune.