Free Zoey Rogue by Lizzy Ford

ran out the door,” she replied.
    “Literally or figuratively?”
    “Both, I think.”
    “Holy shit.” Vikki’s voice was quiet. “I know you like him, but I mean, you can’t marry him.”
    “Why not?” Zoey snapped.
    “Because you go around sleeping with and beheading Cambions. It’s not a good way to start a marriage.”
    “I don’t sleep with them. I kill them.”
    “You’re always tense and angry,” Vikki pointed out. “Eric isn’t enough. What happens the one night you decide to take up a Cambion on his offer, because you can’t control yourself otherwise?”
    “I don’t know, Vikki!”
    “The minute you tell your husband-to-be you’re possessed by sex energy or you can’t control the sex magic, it’s over.”
    Zoey listened. Of all the nights to try to be sober, it had to be this one, when her best friend was suspected of being a traitor and her boyfriend knew she didn’t want to marry him.
    Zoey, you need to be able to trust and talk to the person you want to be with, or it isn’t going to work. I think you need to figure out what you want .
    Eric was right. Vikki was right. The Professor was right. Why was everyone right except for her? Why couldn’t things stay the way they were?
    “C’mon. Makeup and shoes,” Vikki prodded. “This place gets crowded fast on a Saturday night. I don’t want to miss any of them.”
    Zoey forced herself to move. She couldn’t help thinking of the expression on Eric’s face in the car. He was crushed. She’d turned his world inside out in all of two minutes. Her gaze went to the bottle of vodka, but she didn’t reach for it. Instead, she glanced at Vikki, who was putting the finishing touches on her own makeup. At almost six feet tall, Vikki was gorgeous, with porcelain skin, naturally brilliant red hair and blue eyes. She got whatever man – or Cambion – she wanted.
    Zoey couldn’t imagine killing Cambions with anyone else.
    Please, not Vikki. She can’t be a traitor.
    A short time later, they arrived at their destination. They made their way through the club, and Zoey recalled why she was normally drunk by the time she got there. It was hot, crowded, loud and smelly. Vikki was cheerful as usual, and Zoey suspected her own sour mood was to blame this night, not the club or lack of alcohol. They went to a tiny table near the bar that hadn’t been claimed yet and stood. Zoey checked her phone again.
    Eric hadn’t called or texted.
    “You look like a lovesick girlfriend waiting for her ex to call,” Vikki observed. “Put that away. It’s time to work.”
    “I know.” Zoey put the phone in her wristlet and turned her attention to their surroundings. Her Hunter senses would pick up on the Cambions long before she saw them. With her emotions between sorrow and fury, she was ready. “How many did you say?”
    “Somewhere between ten and fifteen.”
    “Good odds.”
    Vikki shrugged. “You look up to taking on two or three.”
    You have no idea , Zoey thought darkly.
    “Compliments of the gentleman there,” a waitress said, bringing them their first drinks of the night.
    Vikki winked at Zoey and turned, lifting the cosmopolitan in a thank you to whoever bought it. Zoey kept her eyes on the people. Vikki went through five drinks while Zoey stayed on one. Normally, they competed to see which was able to drink the most before snagging their target. Vikki didn’t press her, and Zoey’s gaze went to her closest friend as often as to those entering the club.
    The Professor wasn’t capable of being wrong, not when he could read minds. As foolish as she knew it to be, she prayed he was this time.
    She and Vikki faced the door, instincts picking up on the group that just walked in. Every girl within five feet of them knew it, too, and the Cambions were soon covered in clinging women.
    “Only two,” Vikki said with a frown. “Ready?”
    Likewise disappointed, Zoey nodded. She’d prefer a challenge, especially when she was sober. Then again,