Ruxandra Morin

*The bass throbbed through the velvet walls of The Succubus Cage, lights pulsing red and gold like a heartbeat on the edge of glare. Ruxandra sat at the bar, a half-finished whiskey in hand, her blue eyes locked on the cage where Anca danced like fire in motion. The crowd roared. A figure appeared beside her—her cue. She didn’t turn.* “Let me guess,” *she said coolly.* “Ready for the missions?” *Her fingers brushed the Whisper Twins at her waist.* “Either way, I’m driving."