Shivers rocked her, but she maintained a bored expression as she said, “Ask nicely.”

For this, he would beg. “Be naked...please.”

“And deny you the privilege of undressing me? No! I’ll be fully clothed and you’ll thank me for it.”

Must have her now.

Yes—no! Must leave. Task first, woman second.

For the first time, his priorities seemed...off.

“I won’t be gone for long.” He palmed a dagger and a semiautomatic and flashed directly to the forest nymph...who was at a cocktail party. Water surrounded a clear dome, but the dome itself was dry. Crowds of immortals filled the space, like sardines in a can, each decked out in formal attire, the women in gowns and the men in tuxes.

Baden was seriously underdressed. And Destruction wasn’t happy, closed in by vampires, shifters, sirens, Harpies, Fae, Goblins, Gorgons, witches, even a Cyclops.

Calm. Steady.

A waiter passed with a tray of what looked to be Jell-O shots. Odd, considering the decor and the attire.

His ears twitched as a familiar “whoo hoo” rang out. Tense, he pushed his way through the masses, hissing anytime someone brushed against him. He passed towering marble columns chiseled to resemble Poseidon and came upon the nymph—who teetered on her feet beside Taliyah. The two were doing shots and sucking limes.

Behind them stretched a dais where Poseidon watched their antics from a throne made of coral. Baden knew the male spent half of each year in the water and the other half on land, weakened because of some kind of curse—but then, wasn’t every man’s downfall because of a curse? This was a land/legs month.

His attention remained fixed on the nymph, his features set ablaze with unfulfilled desire.

“This time,” Taliyah said, her words slurred, “we’ll do the shots while I’m you and you’re me. Quick, let’s switch clothes and jewelry.”

Baden tensed. She was here to steal the necklace, too, wasn’t she?

As if she was completely aware of her surroundings—and Baden’s presence—she peered over at him and winked.

“Dude! That’s the best idea ever!” The nymph reached for the clasp at her nape.

Poseidon jumped up and roared, “Don’t you dare.”

Many of the guests flinched.

Taliyah scowled, but quickly schooled her features to reveal only mild disappointment. “Now our shots won’t taste as good.”

“I know, right!” The nymph gave the sea king a thumbs-down.

Everyone leaped out of his way as he stormed to her side. He clasped her arm, and two men—guards, by the look of them—closed in. “Take her to her quarters. Remain outside her door. No one enters, no one leaves.”

“Boo hiss,” she called as she was “helped” away. “The party was just getting interesting.”

Baden shared a last look with Taliyah—a glare—before sinking deep into the crowd to keep from drawing Poseidon’s notice.

“Oh, look at you, a juicy slice of man meat.” A redheaded Harpy petted Baden’s arm, making him glower. He jerked away from her, only to bump into another Harpy. This one was black and extraordinarily pretty with amber eyes and pouty red lips. Know her...

Her identity clicked. She was Neeka the Unwanted. Taliyah’s best friend. Once a captive of the Phoenix.

Her claws dug into his arm and though she smiled up at him, an aura of spite surrounded her. “The necklace is ours. Leave or bleed. Your choice.”

Baden grabbed her by the neck and squeezed before he’d even realized he’d moved. Damn it, beast! He released her just as quickly.

She flipped him off, unperturbed. “Nice knowing you, warrior.”

Alongside the redhead and Taliyah, she vanished in the crowd. Baden strode down the path the guards had used, cataloging all possible threats rather than flashing. When he reached a separate hallway, he spied one of those guards behind a potted plant, unconscious. The girls worked fast. Noted.

He came to another fallen guard in front of a locked door, and knew he’d reached his destination. Wasting no more time, he flashed inside the room. A bedroom. The walls were painted sky-blue, with potted plants and flowers hanging in every direction. The three Harpies—Taliyah, Neeka and the redhead—enclosed the nymph in a circle. She fought like a trained assassin, not nearly as drunk as she’d appeared. Not drunk at all, actually. The four women clashed in a tangle of punching arms, cutting claws and kicking legs. They moved so rapidly he had to concentrate to pick up their individual movements.

A flash of memory. One of his own. Sitting beside Paris, eating popcorn and watching immortal females “cat fight” just for a chance to date the male.