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Jace Remington

Jace Remington.

A common sounding name. The name wasn't his given name. Simply the one he chose to wear for now. He possessed a small collection of names, aliases. Only one person alive knew his given name. He intended to keep it that way. Names were power.

The man? The man behind the name was anything but common. No longer a man. A demon. A nightmare. And an exceptional actor.

The dark haired, sloppy drunk female leaned heavily on his shoulder, giggling at something her equally plastered friend said. What was her name again? Mary? Marie? Ah, Macy. Right. In the end, it mattered little to him. She was a means to an end and Jace didn’t feel like putting forth much effort tonight. Macy smelled like cheap alcohol and cigarettes. She and the friend were already half gone by the time he stumbled upon them.

Drunk women were easy.

Jace valued the fact his Sarah always kept her wits about her. He adored the twisted inner-workings of her mind. He liked her sharp. He liked every single one of those sharp edges.

Macy poked at his side and gave an accusatory glare. “You’re not paying attention,” she slurred.

He plastered on the proper ‘aw shucks’ charming smile and slid an arm around her waist. “Sorry, beautiful, how can I make it up to you?”

Her smile turned smug. Triumphant. The one that said she knew she had won.

She hadn’t.

“Buy me another drink and then maaaaybe I’ll let you take me home,” Macy tried to sound kittenish and sexy as she smoothed a hand down his arm. She failed. She was too far gone for that.

Jace reacted as he was expected and wasted another smile on her. “I’d like that…” He leaned closer when he spoke. Unlike her, he could and did use his voice to make promises he had no intention of keeping. Not that she had any idea.

Two drinks and hurling in the garbage can outside later, he all but carried Macy to his car and unceremoniously dumped her into the passenger seat. At least she had the decency to do it before and not while she was in his car. He’d outright kill her for that. The smell never came out.

He fished around in her little clutch purse for her ID, which would tell him her address.

After a twenty minute drive, Jace pulled up on the curb outside the nondescript apartment building. He tossed the now limp Macy over his shoulder and carried her to the door number indicated on the ID. A test turn of the handle and it opened for him. Unlocked. Stupid. So stupid.

Inside they went. He closed and locked the door behind them. Then he flopped her down onto the couch. Why not the bed? She wasn’t worth the extra steps, in his opinion. Her purse went onto the coffee table.

Jace sat himself on the edge of the couch and examined his prey with clinical detachment. The charming, amiable man was gone. Now, the monster looked out of cold, hard blue eyes.

He caressed a fingertip along Macy’s cheek. “I think, when I’m done with you, I’ll give you to my wifey,” he mused. “She does love to play with the ones I’ve already tenderized. Jealous, you understand. It fuels her creativity. Makes her happy. It’s my job to make her happy. We fought against each other for a long time but discovered we work better together. She is beautiful. Terrifying. Perfect. Exactly the opposite of you. Now, let’s see what you fear…”

Because Jace was truly a nightmare. He was a demon of old lore. Contrary to what the legends said, his kind were not always female. People were more superstitious then and women, more often than not, shouldered the blame for such things.

Jace flitted through Macy’s mind, first to put her into a sleep she would not wake from, no matter how great her terror, until he released her. Then… then he found what she feared, like a hound tracking the scent.

Drowning, of all things. How simple. Easy.

That night Macy faced her worst fear, and failed. Over and over. She slipped while getting into the bathtub, hit her head, and drowned in three inches of water. She swam in a pool, dove under, and when she tried to come up, the surface never came. She woke from that nightmare into another, trapped under a sheet of ice in freezing cold water. She beat her fists bloody and it did no good. She went surfing and a wave broke over her. The leash of the surfboard caught on a piece of coral and held her down.

Jace fed on her fear, her terror. He pushed her and feasted on every last sweet ounce. He rode her right up until he felt her mind begin to break, and eased back. Broken toys lost their value.
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