YOU AGAIN?

Daemon.

“Same place tonight?” Seymour asked, a note of anticipation curling into his smile.

“Why not?” I said, replaying the most extravagant flashes of last night in my head.

The club we’d painted red until dawn had left its mark. Some of those memories ought to have pricked our conscience, but we’d long since perfected the art of ignoring its feeble attempts to be heard. What’s more, we hadn't been left alone. By morning, our party had grown by two tall, striking brunettes so uncannily alike that they might as well have been reflections.

Their eerie resemblance killed any instinct Seymour and I had to compete over who got the prettier one. In the end, we exchanged a silent nod and split at the exit, each with an arm around a slim waist, resorting to generic endearments like 'bunny' and 'sweetheart'—we'd already mixed them up more than once.

It was just past six in the evening when Seymour practically shoved me out of the restaurant, the door swinging shut behind us after a drawn-out argument with a contractor over the finer points of a contract.

“Thought we’d never close that deal,” he muttered as we headed toward the parking lot.

“Yeah. Difficult clients", I agreed.

The warm season settling in practically invited another night of excess. Seymour picked up his pace, clearly already looking forward to it. Considering how much money we’d poured into the club last night, they’d be rolling out the red carpet for us within the hour. I smirked at the thought.

A light breeze stirred and carried something new with it.

“What is that?” I froze, drawing in a deep breath.

A sudden wave of euphoria made my head spin.

“What are you talking about?” Seymour had already opened the car door.

A light, alluring scent slipped away. Which meant its source was here just moments ago. I turned slowly, trying to catch the fading trace. And there it was again — exquisite, unlike anything I’d ever known.

“That…” I inhaled deeply once more and met Seymour’s puzzled expression.

He shrugged, and for a moment I doubted my own senses. Maybe I’d imagined it. But another gust of wind brought it back, stronger this time, and I moved quickly in the opposite direction.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

Seymour slammed the car door.

I hurried on. The scent was growing stronger — I was heading the right way. I almost broke into a run, brushing past pedestrians.

“What’s got into you?” Seymour caught up and grabbed my forearm.

“That smell…” I muttered absently, stepping off the curb without waiting for the light.

Cars screeched to a halt.

“Daemon, what smell? Snap out of it!” Seymour gestured apologies to the honking drivers.

“I have to find it… I have to…” I repeated it like a mantra as the scent intensified, leaving no doubt it was real.

I reached a corner and stopped abruptly. Seymour, unable to slow down in time, crashed into me.

I stood there, rooted, staring at a girl in a flowing turquoise dress. She was stroking a stray cat, which arched its back in pleasure, purring loudly.

I couldn’t look away. My breathing grew loud in my ears.

Seymour leaned around me, taking in the scene.

The girl laughed softly and straightened, brushing long black hair away from her face.

“You ran like a madman to catch up with… a cat?” Seymour asked incredulously.

His voice sounded distant, as if filtered through water. I felt like I was drowning.

The girl cast a glance in our direction, and I broke the surface, turning away too quickly. My head throbbed; the world around me rang.

I pulled Seymour around the corner with me.

“What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, straightening his shirt.

If only I knew.

My body folded in on itself as if a powerful current had just surged through it. I braced my hands against the wall, trying to stay upright, but dropped to my knees, gasping.

“What’s wrong with you?” Seymour crouched beside me, gripping my elbow.

“I don’t know…” I rasped.

“Daemon!”

Shielding me from curious stares, he shook me like a rag doll, then hauled me into something resembling a standing position and dragged me away.

“Get it together! Not here!” he hissed, his grip tightening around my arm as I stumbled toward the parking lot.

I knew. God, I knew it wasn’t the place.

But my body wouldn’t listen. Breathing hurt. I needed desperately to go back. To bury my face in her hair and breathe in that intoxicating scent again and again…

Barely managing to stop me from turning back, Seymour shoved me into the back seat of his car. Twenty minutes later, we were pulling into the courtyard of my building.

He half-carried me to the elevator. That’s when it got worse.

His fingers trembled as he pressed the button for the seventeenth floor. I could barely stand, my breath coming in ragged pulls, my reflection in the mirror barely recognisable. He held me upright, not letting me collapse onto the floor.

At my apartment door, he fumbled through my pockets for the key while I leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down it. My legs had completely given out.

At last, he dragged me inside. I collapsed onto the couch and stopped holding back the fangs pushing through my gums.

Seymour gave in to panic as my body seized in violent spasms.

“What the hell is happening to you? Why are you shifting?”

A low growl tore from my throat as I slid off the couch and hit the floor. My muscles swelled; heat flooded my body. I tore at the rug with grown claws.

The last thing I heard before everything went black was Seymour reciting my address into the phone.