Read My Dangerous Pleasure for Free Online

Iskander said, “and things are already crazy.”
    Harsh sent a cautionary glance in the general direction of Paisley, who was waiting in the doorway. Somebody needed to make sure she didn’t call the cops yet. “Any ideas which mage it was?”
    He shrugged and, like Harsh, kept his voice low when he gave his best guess. “Kessler?”
    They shared a glance that acknowledged Rasmus Kessler was at the top of the short list of mages who could scourge an entire apartment. If Kessler was responsible, there was a strong likelihood that Fen was involved. Not to mention his tenant was in a world of danger. Kessler didn’t fuck around. If he wanted to screw with Paisley, he would. Hell, he already had.
    As his oath to his warlord required, Iskander had told Nikodemus about what had happened with Paisley before and about the evidence that made him suspect a mage had gone after her. Per Nikodemus’s instructions, Iskander had kept an eye on her, and for six weeks there hadn’t been one single sign that Paisley was under another magical attack. There hadn’t been any sign of her developing or using any powers or otherwise going witchy. She continued to go to work six days a week. She kept the same crazy hours and never brought anyone home with her. Except for that one night, none of the magekind or demonkind, excluding him, of course, had made contact with her—as far as he knew.
    “What?” Harsh asked.
    He told Harsh about the night he found her in her apartment with no idea what had been done to her. “She doesn’t remember anything about what happened,” he told Harsh. “I upped the proofing around her place, and since then, nothing. I figured whoever it was gave up, and that was that. Obviously not.”
    Harsh shook dust off his feet. “From what she’s saying about a restraining order, my guess is someone’s been messing with her a lot more than just one night six weeks ago.”
    Iskander nodded.
    “If it’s Kessler, it makes sense he’d try to avoid doing anything here. He knows you’d be on it in a minute.”
    “True, my friend. Very true. Except, one”—he began counting off on his fingers—“he did do something six weeks ago.”
    “If Kessler had been inside her apartment then, you’d have known. Whatever he did, he did it off-site.”
    He nodded because Harsh was right. “Two, something changed, because look at her place. He was here for this.”
    Harsh glanced into her apartment. “Sending you a message?”
    “Great. Now I really feel like shit. It’s my fault her life just got fucked up?”
    “Maybe it’s Kessler. Maybe it’s not.” Harsh slid a look in Paisley’s direction. “Safest to assume the worst—that Kessler’s after her for some reason.”
    “It’s him,” Iskander said.
    “Using her to get to you.” Harsh took the words right out of his mouth.
    Paisley walked in, her shoes raising tiny clouds of gray dust, and looked with shock at the devastation. The dust that hadn’t yet lost its magic gravitated toward her, though she was oblivious to the meaning of the undulations in the ashy grit that was in every corner and crack. He sighed. There went any hope this was a warning directed at him. The still-animated particles were like iron filings, and she was a magnet. No question Paisley was the target. The message blurred, but she saw the words.
    Her throat worked. “Oh my goodness.”
    Iskander watched her in the gray-tinted light. She was trying not to cry.
    Damn.
    If this was Kessler’s work, they might all be in trouble. Including him. But especially her. She wasn’t equipped to deal with a mage of any ability, especially not one like Kessler. Iskander walked into the center of the room, avoiding the message. The ceiling light fixture was gone, but dust trickled from the remnants of the electrical fittings. He’d already been inside long enough for a layer of gritty ash to cover him. Not good. The shit made him jumpy. He waited until he had Paisley’s attention; then he