Knight's Dominion (Knights of Hell Book 4)

by Sherilee Gray

  He leaned forward as well, close enough that his breath brushed her lips when he spoke next. “You’re a stripper, the finer details would only confuse you.”

  He'd delivered what he hoped would be a verbal slap, but she’d stopped feeling the sting of barbs like that a long time ago. All he saw when he looked at her was a female who took her clothes off to pay the bills. A whore who was playing hard to get. His male ego had been bruised when she didn’t respond to his messages, and now he wanted to return the favor.

  She smiled wide, too wide. "You're probably right. I've never had much of a head for business."

  His thick fingers wrapped around a hunk of her hair and he tugged her forward. "But you're not just a stripper, are you, Gigi?”

  Her stomach dropped, fell right through the floor. Did he know what she really did every night? Somehow, she knew that knowledge would be dangerous in this man’s hands. Widening her eyes, she stared at him with what she hoped conveyed innocent confusion. "No?"

  He shook his head, that eerie dark gaze locking on hers.

  “What else am I?” she asked.

  His lips curled cruelly. “You obviously tend bar as well, yes?”

  He was trying to rattle her, and she hated that it was working.

  "And I think...you also help Vince with this place, far more than he would admit?"

  Thud. Her heart fired back to life, pounding behind her ribs. He was trying to find out if she knew what Vince was mixed up in. If she knew what he and Oden discussed when they locked themselves away in Vince’s office.

  "I do staff rosters and make sure the bar’s stocked, so yeah, I guess you're right." She smiled again, like he'd paid her a massive compliment.

  He tugged a little harder on her hair and brought her closer. "Yes, I think you're a very clever girl. Far more than you let on."

  More with the goofy grinning. “Why thank you. That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”

  "I doubt that very much." His frigid gaze didn't waver. It was a stupid move on her part, but the fighter in her refused to break eye contact first.

  He broke first and the pissed-off vibe he’d been projecting rose to volcanic territory. She'd made a huge mistake, had revealed too much, and worse, added another bruise to his fragile ego.

  To a male like him, she’d just thrown down a challenge.

  “You want some company?" She angled her head toward the table his champagne had been delivered to. Sitting with him was the last thing she wanted, but if she didn't make nice, Vince might end up paying for it.

  He was also hiding something, and she wanted to know what it was.

  He shook his head and crooked his finger at one of the other dancers. Jemma’s face lit up and she swung her hips as she walked toward Oden.

  Well, he wouldn't have to work for it with Jemma, she gave it away freely, and often. Which was fine, but now any chance of Grace getting information from the male was over.

  He wrapped his fingers around the back of Jemma’s neck and leaned in, whispering something into her ear, then he turned to Grace again, a smug look on his face. “Make sure you answer next time." Then he led Jemma away.

  Okay, maybe not all hope was lost. He was trying too hard to ram home how unimportant she was, that she was replaceable. He still wanted her. Why, she had no idea, but his ploy to make her jealous had backfired.

  Now she knew just how much power she held over him.

  She glanced over at his table, and sure enough, he was watching her.

  Game on, asshole.

  Her shift dragged, and ignoring Vince’s worried glances and playing the injured female for Oden's benefit was exhausting. Oden eventually left, and much to Jemma’s dismay, he left alone, which was unexpected and a little worrying. Did he think he was doing her a favor? Did he think she owed him now for not fucking one of her coworkers?

  Just when she thought she had the guy figured out.

  By the time she went upstairs to her apartment, she wanted nothing more than to climb into bed and fall into a dreamless coma, but catching some shut-eye wasn’t an option.

  For one, there was a Hell beast still on the loose in the city.

  And when she walked into the quiet of her small apartment and looked at her bed, all she could see was Chaos. His enormous body pinning her to his bed at the compound as he cleaned her wounds, the way he smelled, the deep rasp of his voice.

  The way he’d tasted when she’d lost control and kissed him.

  It’d only been a day since she’d seen him, but instead of relief, she felt like a junkie in desperate need of a fix.

  Every conversation between them had been playing through her mind. For the most part, he’d been…reasonable. He’d actually asked her for help. She was still struggling to believe it had happened.

  She shoved her fingers through her hair and paced her room. She’d seen him fight. The male put it all on the line, every time. He left each and every battle bloody and exhausted.

  She’d seen him with his brothers. He cared for them. Chaos made the hard decisions, even when it pissed off the other knights.

  Grace sat heavily on the end of her bed.

  Everything he did was all for a greater good, honoring what he was, what he was born to do.

  Yes, the male could be stubborn, misguided. Even thickheaded. But she couldn’t deny that everything he did, he did to protect the demi he was created to protect, to keep this city safe.

  Her mother’s and father’s faces flashed through her mind. Her brother.

  Was it really the knights who had failed her family?

  All these years, she'd hated Chaos, had blamed him and his brothers for failing to protect them, had trusted them so little that she'd trained hard to became a fighter in her own right.

  Had she been wrong about everything?

  Really? Now you’re blaming your family for their own deaths?

  Guilt slashed through her and she squeezed her eyes closed. She wasn’t thinking straight. The bond with Chaos was screwing with her head.

  Standing, she paced across the room. She needed to get the hell out of her own head, where everything she believed suddenly wasn't black and white anymore, and her emotions were a jumble of twisted and confused feelings and memories.

  Changing quickly into leather jeans and a long-sleeve, black T-shirt, she strapped on her weapons, tugged on a jacket, and climbed out her window.

  The old iron fire escape protested as she climbed the ladder to the roof. The wind slapped her in the face and she sucked it back, trying again to clear her head. And once again, before she could stop herself, she looked up into the night sky.

  Looking for dove-gray wings glinting in the darkness.

  Stop it.

  The guilt clawing at her intensified.

  No. She didn’t want him—the thing fate had put inside her did. It was a deceitful attraction, a false connection, fraudulent lust, and she wanted no part of it.

  Being around Chaos for several days had screwed her up, leaving her confused. Her emotions had been on lockdown for so long, she didn't even understand her own thoughts or feelings anymore.

  The wind changed direction and a stale, sickly sweet scent hit her. The smell was unmistakable. Death. She looked around, expecting to find a dead pigeon or a rotting stray cat.

  Instead she saw a hand stretched out from behind an air-conditioning duct on the rough concrete rooftop.

  Please no.

  Scanning the area around her, reaching out with her senses, Grace searched the shadows for movement, but she was alone. Her heart was in her throat as she rounded the duct, sucking in a harsh breath, when her fears were realized.

  Tina lay on the hard roof, her hair fanned out around her pretty face, her body laid out like a sacrifice. Her skin was gray, emaciated, like something or someone had drained the life right out of her. She'd been missing for two weeks, but the condition she was in…it wasn’t decay, this was something else. Her skin looked leathery, taut, like it
had been vacuum sealed to her skeleton.

  Grace crouched beside her friend and ran the backs of her fingers across one cold cheek. "Who did this to you?"

  Why?

  What the hell was going on?

  Tina stared blindly at the stars overhead, and Grace gently closed the female’s eyes, fighting back tears. They were friends. Tina had worked and fought beside her for the past two years, and like most demi, she'd suffered a lot of shit early in her life, only coming into her own after gaining her powers and learning what she truly was.

  She didn't deserve this.

  No one deserved this.

  Grace stood and searched the rooftop again. Whoever did this to Tina had wanted Grace to find her. Demon butcher. That's what the demon on the roof had called her while she'd dangled off the side of the building.

  Someone wanted her to stop. And she had a feeling this was only the beginning.

  Chapter 15

  Grace watched as her team carried Tina off the roof. She shook as rage pumped through her, fierce and hot. Whatever happened next, whatever the knights had planned, she would be a part of it. For Tina. For all the demi who had suffered—were suffering right now—at the hands of their enemy.

  Yanking her phone from her back pocket, she hit the number Chaos had programmed into her phone, a number she seriously didn’t want to use.

  He answered almost immediately. “Grace?”

  She locked down the violent emotions rampaging through her before she spoke. “You found the house yet?”

  “Something’s happened.”

  How could he know that? How?

  She hadn’t bothered telling him about Tina, why should she? Another dead demi? Big deal, right? The knights had bigger things to worry about. They wanted to win the war, but they didn’t give a shit about the casualties. Even as she thought it, her belly gripped tight, guilt slicing through her. Because she knew different. Because she knew Chaos, and that wasn’t him.

  Christ, she had the sudden urge to cry. Instead, she held tight to her anger, the only thing capable of holding back her tears.

  “You asked for our help. We’re coming with you. You need to concentrate on containing the beast. We’ll hold back the demons guarding it,” she said, ignoring what he’d said.

  A pause. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” The word slipped out, sounding as stunned as she felt.

  “You expected me to fight you on this?”

  “Yes.” She’d expected his anger at the mere suggestion, despite telling her he wanted them to work together. Trust didn’t come easy. She’d been waiting for him to take back the offer since he made it.

  “You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Grace.”

  His voice dropped when he said her name, and she squeezed her eyes closed, doing her best to ignore how deeply that affected her. “Text me the address.”

  More silence.

  Her phone beeped.

  “Done,” he said, in that insanely deep, soul-shaking voice.

  Grace disconnected without another word, afraid of what she’d say, and followed the rest of her crew. Right now was for saying goodbye to Tina.

  Grace walked up to the burly shifter manning the entrance to Toxic, and he let her straight in with a wink.

  The Roxburgh sex club was the last place she should be right now. She should be with her crew getting ready for the battle later, or going through their game plan for tonight with the knights.

  A weird feeling fluttered through her belly and she squashed it. It was easier to tell herself she was here because Chaya worked with her, that she might have some important intel that could help them tonight, or that Grace needed to let her know what was going on.

  Never mind that Mia would have spoken to her sister already, possibly Zenon as well.

  No, she wouldn’t allow herself to actively think about her real reason for coming here, that she couldn’t ignore the niggling thought growing in the back of her mind another moment.

  She spotted Chaya and Brent instantly, they were sitting in a booth by the bar. Chaya was dressed in skintight leather and Brent was at her side wearing one of his slick suits. The little Domme had her hand possessively on her husband’s thigh as he stared at her intently, nostrils flaring, heat and longing written all over his face. God, hungry as hell for his wife.

  Grace sucked in a breath, envy spiraling through her when Chaya gave him a little nod and Brent all but pounced, kissing her so thoroughly even Grace’s knees went weak.

  A certain huge, confusing, sexy, dominant male entered her head, and her body heated instantly.

  Grace approached them, passing couples in various stages of play. Some out there fucking for all to see. Brent had always kept the serious play behind doors, but a lot had changed since he and Chaya had married.

  Chaya pulled back as Grace reached their booth, and Brent actually growled in frustration. Chaya’s eyes narrowed at him and she made a tut-tut sound. Someone had obviously been misbehaving, no doubt on purpose knowing Brent.

  Chaya smiled warmly. “Grace! Come join us.”

  Brent turned to her, a pained look on his face. “Hey, sweetheart, what’s going on?”

  If anyone else called her sweetheart, she’d break their nose, but Brent was far too charming for his own good. Grace slid into the booth across from them and Brent signaled someone to bring them drinks.

  “You heard about Tina?”

  Chaya nodded, eyes getting glassy. “James told me.”

  “And I take it Mia and Zenon filled you in on everything else going on, what’s going down tonight?”

  “You need our help?” Chaya said.

  Brent leaned forward. “I spoke to Laz, he told me about Roc. Shit’s getting critical. You need another fighter tonight?”

  “Always,” she said.

  He dipped his chin as Chaya threaded her fingers through her husband’s, gripping tight. He glanced at her, something moving between them, communicating with just a look. His gaze came back to Grace. “I’ll be there.”

  A male delivered their drinks and Grace waited for him to leave before she spoke. “I want anything you can get on Oden. There’s something seriously off about that male. Anything, it’s all important.”

  Chaya reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. “You got it. I’ll put the feelers out.”

  “Thanks.” Grace took a sip of her drink.

  Chaya scrutinized Grace in a way that made her shift in her seat. “But that’s not the only reason you’re here? What’s going on?”

  Grace glanced at Brent. She knew he wouldn’t repeat anything she said, but Chaos and the other knights were his friends. Talking about any of this in front of him was kind of awkward.

  “I’m just going to check on, ah…something,” he said, reading her look easily.

  He turned to Chaya, the heat returning in his gaze. “I’ll await your summons, Mistress.”

  Chaya watched her husband walk away, a possessive, loved-up expression on her face that Grace actually envied.

  Then she turned back to Grace. “Right, get talking. You’re acting all twitchy and weird, and I don’t even know where to start with your emotional state.”

  “I am not twitchy.”

  “Tell me your leg’s not jiggling under the table as we speak.”

  Grace stilled her leg, heat crawling up her neck.

  Chaya chuckled.

  “Seriously, sometimes I think you’re a witch.”

  “Nope, but your emotions are all over the place. Reading them is actually making me dizzy to the point of nausea…also horny. It’s a freaking odd mix.”

  “I’m making you want to puke and fuck?”

  “Yep. So spill already before shit gets messy.”

  There was no hiding from Chaya, maybe that’s why she came here, because she’d be forced to talk about it with someone. Instead of bottling it up inside.

  That’s exactly why you came here, and you know it.

  Grace released the breath she
was holding. “I wanted to ask you something about Mia.”

  Chaya frowned and sat up straighter. “What about her?”

  Grace forced herself to continue. She hadn’t gone to Chaos with this because it would only give him the wrong idea, same with asking Mia directly. She still wasn’t sure what she planned to do with the information if the answer Chaya gave her was what she thought it was going to be. “Her power, did it increase after she mated Zenon?”

  Wariness rearranged Chaya’s features. “Why do you ask? You know there’s no way Zenon will let her fight.”

  “It’s not that.”

  Chaya leaned forward. “Then what?”

  Grace cursed. “Chaos is my…mate…”

  “What?” Chaya shrieked.

  “We’re not mated,” she rushed out. “I don’t want that, I really don’t want that. But I guess I wanted to know what I’m missing out on?” There was more to it than that, but she wasn’t ready to think it, let alone voice it yet.

  Chaya frowned. “What you’re missing out on? Have you seen Zenon and Mia together?”

  Grace shook her head. But the knight made sure everyone knew Mia was his. He had her name tattooed in bright blue on his stomach.

  “Mia is literally everything to Zenon. Everything. And he is everything to her. Her power’s the reason he’s still alive. No joke. The connection between mates reaches levels the rest of us will never understand. In Mia and Zenon’s case, being together was literally vital to his survival. If you mate with a knight, there’s more, there’s always more.”

  Grace swallowed hard, heart racing.

  “But to answer your actual question? Yes, her power grew stronger. Like whoa stronger. Honestly, I can’t see a negative. Why the hell would you resist it?”

  Grace curled her fingers around her glass. “I just…it’s not for me.”

  Chaya’s gaze softened, her head tilting to the side, no doubt reading her volatile emotions again. “Okay, but I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

  The small house on the outskirts of Roxburgh was fucking grim, the kind of house the local kids avoided in a horror movie. The only light source came from a single streetlight halfway down the block and a small bulb burning above the back door.