Devour the Dark (Devourer, #2)

by Nikki St. Crowe

Outside, the heat of the day has faded replaced by a soft ocean breeze, but inside Maddred Manor, the chill of night has seeped in early. It’s frigid. But oddly, all of the numerous fireplaces are dark and cold. No fire. No fire anywhere. Fire is considered the coziest of all. Alarm bells start ringing in my head. There’s a puzzle piece I know fits into place here, but it’s blurry, a little out of my reach. We walk the perimeter of the room until we spot Malachi over by the drinks. Vane heads straight there. “Where is she?” “Whoa. Slow down.” Malachi offers Vane a drink. Vane takes it and slings it back. Is he on edge? Either he’s on edge or impatient because he says, “I don’t have all night,” right after slamming the glass down on the nearest table. I stand to the side, examining Malachi. He has his own drink in his right hand. He sips casually from it. More alarm bells. He looks the same. Sounds the same. But there is a sensation running up my arms, lifting the hair at the nape of my neck and when I step one step to the left, something about his face shifts, like he isn’t quite there.

Shapeshifters dont like fire...... as mentioned earlier...