He stormed into the Axel of Evil nightclub, the strobe lights pulsing hellish red and purple, fires burning in the two caged pits, and the bartenders serving last call. The music pounded so loud, he wouldn’t be able to hear that fucking voice if it used a bullhorn in his head. What he needed was sex. Feeding the sex part of the blood and sex curse helped ice the blood-craving. Right now, that need boiled. He’d need a hell of a lot of sex to cool it. He strode through the club, the other witch hunters eyeing him warily. The women were all mortals, all there with their own needs, their own demons to feed. Heading straight for the first black-lacquered dance floor, he spotted a few women standing around the edge. One looked directly at him. Wavy blond hair, jaded brown eyes, expensive jeans, and a ready-when-you-are pose. Need pounded through him, the edge so sharp, it felt as if he were being shredded internally.
