Trik stood in the quiet elevator, riding up to the fifteenth floor. He wore his human guise once again , allowing himself to be seen by humans. When the elevator opened a woman was standing, waiting for her turn to get on. She froze as he stepped out, her eyes filling with desire. He was used to the effect that he had on women and usually he would have toyed a bit with her, but he hardly noticed her as he passed. His heart was spoken for, his mind forever captivated by a single thought—Cassie.

He didn’t bother to stop at the reception desk, but walked right past her and opened the door to the realtor’s office. He stepped in and shut it behind him.

“Trik,” a disheveled man in his early forties stood, abruptly dumping the papers that had been in his lap into the floor. His cheeks were flushed, but not for any reason other than it was the way his skin was always colored, as if there was something in his life forever embarrassing him and he was convinced the world knew about it. He was going bald, and not gracefully so. His eyes appeared beady behind his thick, coke bottle glasses. His ears stuck out too far on his large head and his lips stayed in a puckered state as if he was sucking on a lemon.

The man wore a suit that looked as if it had been picked up off the floor and hastily thrown on. As he stepped around his desk , Trik noticed that his pants were an inch too short and he was wearing white socks with his brown, wrinkled suit. The man held his hand out to Trik. Though it was a human tradition to shake hands when meeting, Trik looked at the man’s hand and then back up into his beady eyes. When he realized that Trik had no intention of taking his offered hand, the man quickly dropped it to his side.

“Hello, Leon,” Trik said finally after having made the poor man twitch nervously under his scrutinizing stare. “I have come to sign the papers and finalize the sale.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Leon seemed to gather himself and rushed around his desk, searching through the mess. He finally found the papers he was looking for and handed them to Trik.

“Just sign wherever the lines are highlighted.” Leon told him as he held out a pen.

Trik reluctantly took the pen from the realtor, not bothering to hide his repulsion at having to touch it.

He quickly read through the documents and signed at the appropriate locations. He handed the papers back to Leon.

“So, are we done?” Trik asked.

“Yes, Lorsan has already transferred the money to the sellers. The land is now yours to take possession of,” Leon answered.

As Trik turned to leave and his hand reached for the door handle, Leon spoke again.

“You don’t seem like the vineyard owning type, Mr. Trik,” Leon said nervously. “Why did you want this land so badly, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Trik turned the door handle and pushed the door open. “I do mind you asking. Consider yourself warned,” he told the realtor. Trik turned towards him as he began to shut the door. Trik narrowed his eyes and let just a little of his power loose. “Do not dig into my business Leon, you will not like the results.”

Leon nodded and let out a small whining sound.

Trik smiled to himself as he left the office and then the building. He fed off the power he held over humans like Leon, so easily intimidated. His fear was a stench in the air, his seemingly meaningless existence a waste of air. He frowned at himself and his thoughts as he walked down the sidewalk and rounded a corner to a quieter street. For the first time he could ever remember, he was bothered by how he felt, how he enjoyed causing fear in another. For the first time, he felt guilt over his behavior and he knew why. The idea of Cassie seeing him act in such a way was repulsive. Knowing how disappointed and hurt she would be by his actions and words halted him in his tracks. How was he going to do this? How was he going to be who she needed and who his King needed? He turned and found that he was standing in front of a murky window, in a building that was empty and dark. He looked at his reflection, at the human guise he wore, and he was repulsed by what he saw.

He had planned to go back to Cassie but he couldn’t see her, not like this. So he headed for a place where he knew that he could lose himself.

He stepped out of one of the many mirrors in Sanctuary. The blaring music assaulted him and he let the darkness and pleasure wrap itself around him. He walked out onto the dance floor and two steps later felt a warm body press itself against his back. Firm arms wrapped around his neck. He knew who it was even before she whispered in his ear.

“Been a long time, lover. Where’ve you been hiding?” Ziana’s voice was a purr against his skin.

There was a time when that would have done something to him, but not anymore, and that pissed him off. With Ziana , he could be who and what he was. He didn’t have to change or fight his nature. With Ziana, he could give into the darkness. He lifted his arm and wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her around to stand in front of him. He didn’t like anyone at his back, especially her. She stepped closer so that their bodies were touching again.

Trik looked down into her yellow eyes. She was breathtakingly beautiful. A human male would fall an d worship at her feet if only to receive a tiny morsel from her fingertips. She had a body made for sin and there was a time that Trik had given into that body.

She took his hands and placed them on her hips and he instinctively drew her closer. She pressed her lips to his neck . Just before he closed his eyes to try and enjoy the sensation, they met the piercing gaze of Syndra. If looks could torture, Trik would be writhing in pain in a puddle of his own blood. She made her way towards them as Trik continued to hold Ziana against him, her lips still moving against his neck.