Draegan let out a deep rumbling laugh and tipped back his own glass. He slammed it back on the table and said something to the ranc demon that hadn’t passed out yet. The ranc demon held up his hands in defeat and stumbled away from the table to collapse on one of the couches. Draegan laughed again and pulled the large pile of money toward him. He stacked it and handed it off to one of two smaller gulak demons standing behind him.

This was the demon that held Greg’s life in his hands. He had to be seven feet tall and weigh over four hundred pounds. According to David, gulaks were known for their brute strength, and they were the closest the demon community had to organized crime. There wasn’t much they weren’t into and most demons feared them.

Draegan had set up his own little crime syndicate in Los Angeles, running drugs and weapons and intimidating the crap out of other demons. He threw parties to show off his power and wealth, but he also surrounded himself with security, which told me he wasn’t as strong as he liked to portray. Looking at him now in the flesh, I saw nothing more than a loud-mouthed bully who could afford to hire others to do his dirty work. I really hated bullies.

“What is that game they’re playing?” I wondered if it might be the way I could get close to Draegan.

“It is called Glaen,” answered a silky voice on my left, startling me.

I looked at the incubus who had approached while Jordan and I were distracted by the other demons. He smiled, showing off even white teeth. Knowing what he was made my skin crawl, but I forced myself to remain cool. All the demons here filled me with disgust, but I had to put my emotions aside and keep in mind why I was here.

“Glaen?” I asked.

“The game is named after the drink. You ante up before each shot, and the last one conscious wins the pot. Draegan never loses, but these idiots keep trying.”

“It’s that strong?”

The incubus laughed as if I’d made a joke. “It’s poison.”

“Poison?” Jordan repeated.

“To us it is. It’ll kill you if you drink enough of it. I guess the Mohiri don’t teach you about things like that.” His silvery gaze appraised Jordan and me. “And what brings two beautiful young Mohiri to Draegan’s of all places? I’m surprised Wilhem let you in. You aren’t exactly like Draegan’s usual guests.”

I ignored his flirting. “We’re here on business.”

“Draegan doesn’t like to do business at his parties.” One of the mox demons came over to us and handed the incubus a glass of liquor. He took a sip and smiled. “He does serve good brandy, though. Would either of you care for a drink?”

“No, thanks,” Jordan and I said together. Even if I could handle liquor, there was no way I’d accept a drink from an incubus. I couldn’t believe I was still standing here talking to one. Just being near him made my skin itch and my gut twist. My power strained against my control, and I clamped down on it even more. Losing control now would be disastrous.

The mox demon turned to leave, and I noticed an unusual black tattoo that resembled a hieroglyphic on the right side of her jaw.

“What does that tattoo mean?” I asked the incubus, my curiosity overriding my aversion to him.

“That is her owner’s mark.”

My spine stiffened. “Owner’s mark?”

“Draegan owns her, and that is his brand to show she is his property,” the incubus explained casually, unaware of the anger igniting inside me. Slaves? Blood debts? My nostrils flared, and I gripped the edge of the small marble table beside me.

Jordan shot me a “keep it together” look then turned to the incubus. “Do you know Draegan well?”

“As well as anyone here. I live in the building so I come to his parties when I have nothing more exciting planned.” His eyes glowed, and I fought the urge to shudder. “I’m Lucien, by the way. I can introduce you to Draegan, but I assure you he won’t do business tonight. The only money that exchanges hands at his parties is during Glaen.”

Jordan and I exchanged looks and my heart sank. We both knew my lack of tolerance for liquor meant I couldn’t play the game if I wanted to. And I wouldn’t ask her to endanger herself to save someone she barely knew. My throat tightened painfully.

“You said it’s poisonous to demons, but Mohiri have human bodies. Does it have the same effect on us?” Jordan asked Lucien.

“Glaen is toxic to all demons. I’ve seen a mature vampire pass out after four glasses. He lasted a bit longer than most demons do.”

“If it’s so strong, how can Draegan drink it?” I already suspected it was sheer strength that kept the huge demon from passing out. His body mass allowed him to consume more than everyone else.

Lucien laughed. “Look at him. Gulaks have a high tolerance for pain.”

“But what is Glaen and where does it come from?” Jordan asked him.

He shook his head. “Ah, the ignorance of youth. Glaen is a Fae drink.”

I gawked at him, my heart racing. “A Fae drink? At a demon party?”

“You can buy anything if you have enough money and know where to find it. Some demons like to amuse themselves by taking risks. Drinking Glaen is a status symbol to them. They like to tell others they played Glaen and to talk about how long they lasted in the game.”

Jordan wrinkled her nose. “That’s sick.”

The incubus raised his glass to her. “I agree. I prefer to get my thrills in other ways.”