DANGEROUS LOVE
"Which finger should I start with?"
"Middle," Azhael offered immediately, sipping his drink.
Elison raised a thumb toward his friend in mock approval. "Why not," he said lightly, and then, without any further ceremony, he began peeling back the skin at the edge of the man's nail.
The scream that tore out of the man's throat rattled the walls.
Elison didn't flinch. He simply moved to the next finger—the ring finger this time—unhurried, methodical, as if he had all the patience in the world and nowhere else to be.