Knight's Dominion (Knights of Hell Book 4)

by Sherilee Gray

  And froze. Grace stood there, legs braced apart, hands loose at her sides. Trying to appear relaxed when she was anything but.

  “Sorry, I should have called.” She glanced back down the hall. “Maybe I shouldn't have come.” She looked back at him and bit her lower lip.

  He felt it in his balls. “It’s fine,” he choked. “What's going on?"

  "Can I…come in?"

  She wore leather pants, the kind she fought in, and a black tank that clung to her gentle curves. His mouth went dry.

  "I was just leaving." He needed his focus back, his unwavering control, and just being in the same room with his female in front of him turned him into a male he didn't recognize, a male he couldn't afford to be, not now.

  She placed a hand on his abs and stared up at him. "Please."

  Something was off. There was something different about her, and it was the only reason he stepped back and motioned her in. "What is it?” He crossed his arms to stop from reaching for her.

  She moved in, until they were only a foot apart. “I, uh…I thought you might like some company?" She did some more lip biting and stared wide-eyed at him.

  Sex. It was written all over her face and in the way she held her body.

  His dick instantly went hard and his breathing choppy. He didn't move. He knew if he did, he'd tear off her clothes and pounce on her. That's how badly he wanted her. She could destroy his resolve with a single look.

  Leaning in, she pressed her forehead against his chest, nuzzling into him, and slid a warm hand up his bicep, the other fisting the shirt at his waist.

  "What do you say?" Her voice was different, not the way she sounded when she’d been in his bed, all husky and full of need. This was something else. Grace was trying to seduce him, but she didn't want him, not right then. There was a thread of something he didn't understand.

  Then it clicked into place. This was the persona she wore when she worked, the voice, the expressions she used when she was at Revelry. It was Gigi Fury begging him to fuck her, not Grace.

  He forced himself to take a step back. "What are you doing?"

  "What does it look like?"

  Then she fucking batted her lashes at him. "Desperation."

  She flinched, and the mask dropped, revealing a whole lot of pain and vulnerability. He'd be lying if he said it didn't get to him, because it did, but he held his ground. “What’s with the act? What is it you really want?”

  Grace turned and walked away, and he was about to go after her when she sat heavily on his couch. "I need your help." She looked up at him. "One of the girls from Revelry, one of my fighters went missing. She showed up dead on the roof above my apartment a week ago. And her body...a human didn't kill her.”

  Shit.

  “Then Hannah didn't show up for work. She’d called in, said it was a family thing, but when I called to check on her tonight, her family said she wasn’t with them. James went to her apartment, and she hasn’t been there in days. No one’s heard from her since that first night.” She stood and paced to the other side of the room. “It’s Oden. He has something to do with it, I’m sure.”

  Grace had come here to manipulate him, to soften him up because she needed his help? She’d assumed that before an information exchange could happen, she had to give him something first.

  That's what she truly thought of him? Yeah, that cut in a way he wasn’t prepared for. It also pissed him the fuck off.

  “Just an FYI, you don't need to offer up your pussy as some type of bribe to get me to do my job. I agreed to work with you because I respect your abilities, not for what you’ll give me in return."

  It didn't stop him from wanting her, though, but the fact she was willing to let him fuck her to get what she wanted, yeah, that did not sit well with him, not at all. He didn't deal in that type of currency.

  She stared at him, face flushed with embarrassment, eyes sharp, bright.

  He planted his hands on his hips. Fuck. How could he get through to her? How could he get her to trust him? “Okay, yeah, we have an unusual arrangement…but, Grace, you need to hear me, because this is the important part. You. Are. My. Mate. There is no get-out-of-jail-free card here, this is it, you and me for as long as we live. That’s a fucking long time.” His hands dropped to his sides, fists clenched. "So no matter what's going on between us, no matter where you are, even if you're on the other side of the fucking world, if you need something, anything, you come to me. You reach out to me, trust me, and I will be the one to give it to you. Because that’s my job, my privilege. I don’t need payment, there is no barter system between us. I give to you and I’ll keep on giving to you because I want to, I need to. Understand?"

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “I made a bad call, okay, I’m sorry but…”

  "Do you understand?"

  He could see in her eyes that he’d said too much. He was asking for blind trust, and that wasn't something she gave easily or lightly. She depended only on herself, had for a long time, and now he was asking her to put her faith in him, to trust that he wouldn’t misuse it. She wasn’t ready to give it to him.

  “Not really. No,” she said, confirming it.

  "Don't worry. You will. Let’s go.” He grabbed his jacket, shrugged it on, then headed for the door.

  He didn't want to talk anymore. Right now all the things on the tip of his tongue were better left unsaid, for both of them.

  Chapter 22

  Zenon struggled to breathe, his skin crawling, and his chest pumping so hard the bed shook.

  Somehow Diemos had found a way into his head, his dreams, and was trying to call to Zenon’s inner demon. The nightly visits hadn’t let up and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

  He rolled Mia into his side and soaked up the warmth of her body, her soft hair tickled his skin, her addictive scent easing the hurricane building inside him. She made a sweet little sound and wriggled closer, and his heart literally ached with how much he loved her.

  She was his everything. His reason for every breath he took.

  Diemos was in his head. Not in this room with them, nowhere near his precious mate—still that was too close for Zenon. Far too fucking close.

  He struggled to control his breathing, not wanting to wake her. Mia hadn’t been sleeping well either, worried about the future, worried for him. He would do anything to relieve her fears.

  Burying his nose against her thick red hair, he squeezed his eyes shut and breathed her in, desperately seeking calm.

  But even though Diemos resided in Hell, he wouldn’t leave him. His face, his presence bounced around Zenon’s head. His father had found a way to reach him, just like he’d promised, and the sickening, suffocating sensation wouldn’t leave him alone. It was oily and dark and thick. Made him want to scrub his fucking skin raw.

  Zenon didn’t want that evil anywhere near Mia.

  Gently removing her arms from around his waist, he climbed out of bed, tucked the covers around her, then shoved on a pair of jeans and left their apartment. He needed to clear his head.

  The control room was empty when he walked in, which was a good thing because he didn’t want to talk about this, not yet.

  Pushing through the doors, he strode outside to the balcony and gripped the railing. He filled his lungs with night air, and his wings sprung from his back, ready to take flight. A short one, just to shake this feeling.

  He saw movement in the shadows and spun around…and stilled.

  He knew who it was instantly, the male who stepped from the darkened corner and into the moonlight. Knew deep in his soul.

  Zenon took in the other male. They were around the same height, and he had black hair like Zenon’s as well, only the male watching him closely had his buzzed at the sides and longer on top. It was slicked back, revealing pale yellow eyes, also like Zenon’s, only lighter. The male wore a black T-shirt with Prada printed across the front—he obviously had a sense of humor—and his skin was covered with ink, except for his face, w
hich was ink-free. Well, mostly ink-free. Something was written in sloping script above his left eyebrow, which was arched as Zenon’s gaze met his again.

  They looked roughly the same age by human standards, mid-twenties. Could be brothers with the similarities.

  “Lucifer,” Zenon said, still not moving, not fucking blinking.

  A smile curled the former king of Hell’s lips. “No hug for Grandpa?”

  Zenon remained still as Lucifer came closer, as the older male circled him slowly. It was pointless doing anything else. Lucifer could click his fingers and turn Zenon to dust if he chose to.

  “Your wings,” Lucifer said, hand lifting almost cautiously. “They’re kickass. Can I?”

  Zenon’s wings were not like his brothers’. They weren’t feathers; they were leathery, like a bat, all demon. Nothing about them said he was half angel. Inside he recoiled at the idea of letting anyone but Mia touch them, but he found himself dipping his chin, granting Lucifer permission.

  He gritted his teeth as Lucifer reached out and gently brushed his fingers along the edge.

  “You don’t like it being touched,” Lucifer said and tilted his head.

  Their eyes met, and Zenon felt the moment Lucifer took a peek inside his mind, saw the other male flinch when he got the full 3D version of Zenon’s shitty life loud and clear.

  Lucifer pulled his hand away, curling it into a fist.

  “Don’t touch me again,” Zenon said without heat.

  “I won’t. Despite what people say, I’m not a total dick.” He tilted his head again, gaze intense. “Silas told me where to find you,” he said, answering Zenon’s unasked question. “The dude likes you a lot, piqued my curiosity.”

  Zenon knew that was bullshit. “Your interest was piqued before that, though, wasn’t it? Diemos told you about me when Helena took me from Hell. You came after me, and he took his chance and warded the portal, blocking you from reentering so he could claim your throne.” Helena had been his master in Hell and on Earth, she’d owned him from the age of fourteen. Until Mia had saved him. Freed him.

  Lucifer smiled and slid his hands into his pockets. “Honestly? I’d never been prouder of the little shit.”

  “Why not come to me before now.”

  “You didn’t need me.” His gaze moved over Zenon’s wings again.

  “You took Diemos’s wings. Why?” Zenon asked before he could think better of it.

  Lucifer’s intense yellow stare came back to Zenon. “I was protecting him from himself. My boy wasn’t satisfied just being my heir. He wanted more. But Earth’s not for him.”

  “He sees it differently.”

  Lucifer gazed up at the sky. “He’s like me in a lot of ways, but unfortunately, he gets his temperament from his mother. A thaneous demon. Bitch had four arms, and like six boobs. Volcanic in the sack, was in to some seriously kinky shit, but man, was she crazy.”

  Zenon blinked, opened his mouth, closed it again. Nope. Not touching that.

  “Diemos and I, we’re both risk takers. We want something, we go after it. Our motivations, though…” He shook his head. “In that we’re total opposites.” His gaze locked on Zenon’s. “He thinks he can control you, that the demon inside you will obey its king. My son doesn’t understand what pure love—the truest kind, the kind that fucks with your head and has you walking around with a boner twenty-four seven—can accomplish. He won’t understand why he can’t control you, those kinds of feelings are beyond him. You thought mating Mia is what leashed the demon inside you.” He shook his head. “Nah, it was love, being loved. There is nothing more powerful than that shit. Nothing.”

  Hearing Lucifer say Mia’s name, knowing that he knew she existed, made his gut tighten and his skin prickle with unease. Despite the casual banter, the guy was terrifying. Darkness hovered around him like a black cloud. “You can stop him,” Zenon said. “I know you can.”

  “Yeah, maybe. But the fates will be pissed if I mess with things. We’re all pawns. We need to let this game play out.”

  Zenon cursed. “This is not a game, this is fucking Armageddon.”

  “No shit.” Lucifer grinned. “I can help you with one thing, though.” A chain appeared in his hand, thin and gold. “The beast Diemos sent for me, this’ll hold it.”

  “For you?”

  “He doesn’t want any obstacles when he comes to Earth, including me.”

  “You mean when Rocco’s female gains her powers.”

  “Yup.”

  “Can you stop it from happening?”

  “Dunno.”

  Goddammit. Lucifer was about as helpful as Silas had been. “Can you bring her home?”

  “No.”

  “Fate?” Zenon was so filled with pain and rage for Rocco, for his female, he had to grab the balcony railing.

  “Fate.”

  “Can the beast kill you?

  Lucifer shrugged. “If it caught me at the wrong…right? Moment. Like when I’m getting busy or taking a dump or whatever, maybe, I guess.” He held his hand out again, holding up the chain.

  Zenon frowned and took it. It was no bigger than the one Mia wore around her neck.

  Lucifer chuckled. “It’s a grower not a shower. It’ll do the job when the time comes.”

  Zenon shoved it in his pocket. “We can’t do shit if we can’t find it.”

  “Next time Diemos reaches out to you in your dreams, go with it. Let him think he has you. He’ll lead you right to it. You’re the key, kid. Through you, the beast can find me. One taste of your blood and it can track mine.”

  Zenon grunted. Diemos said he might have a use for him. Turned out he was dinner. What he wouldn’t give to take the fucker’s head. “I’m bait.”

  Lucifer smirked. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”

  “Kinda hard not to.”

  He chuckled. “Well, the chain will hold that ugly two-headed fucker until I can send it back.”

  “You can do that?”

  “I need to gather a few things to prepare. But it isn’t all that complicated.”

  Zenon narrowed his eyes. “I thought you couldn’t interfere with fate?”

  The smile returned. “I can’t, but I don’t see the harm in offering a little help here and there.”

  Obviously, fate could go fuck itself if it involved a bloodthirsty monster trying to hunt down Lucifer and tear him to shreds.

  “How will I contact you, when we have it locked down?” Zenon expected an “I’ll just know” or “think of me” or some other all-powerful bullshit.

  Instead, Lucifer pulled his phone from his pocket. “Number?”

  Zenon rattled it off and watched as the once king of Hell, his grandfather, added him to his contacts.

  “Texting you now so you got my digits as well.”

  Zenon’s phone beeped in his pocket.

  They stood there then, the silence stretching out. Lucifer’s eyes locked with Zenon’s, and the urge to drop his gaze, like he had always been expected to do when he was in Hell, when he was with Helena, was hard to ignore. But he didn’t. He stared back, unflinching.

  “If I’d known when you were born, if I’d known that you existed, I would have doted on you, loved you,” he said roughly and stepped forward, lifting his hand again. He didn’t touch this time, just let it hover beside Zenon’s cheek. “I would have protected you.”

  Zenon didn’t know what to say to that, had no words.

  “I’m proud of you, Zenon,” Lucifer said, then vanished.

  Zenon looked down at his phone, at the text Lucifer had sent him.

  A devil emoji grinned back at him.

  Chapter 23

  The club was busy, but Grace knew the minute Chaos walked in the door. Like low-level electricity, tingles traveled over the surface of her skin. Need zinged through her belly. Lower.

  Humiliation hit her face, remembering his rejection the night before. He'd figured her out almost instantly. Jesus, she'd never felt smaller. Asking for help didn’t com
e naturally or easily to her.

  Since she'd been on her own, she'd worked for everything she had. Nothing had ever been handed to her. She'd expected Chaos to take what she'd offered without question. Instead, he'd shot her down, and in that moment, she'd never felt more pathetic.

  “Just an FYI, you don't need to offer up your pussy as some type of bribe to get me to do my job. I agreed to work with you because I respect your abilities, not for what you’ll give me in return."

  Those words had played on repeat in her head since he’d said them.

  She hadn't expected that. That seemed to happen a lot with Chaos. She'd spent the last twelve years hating him, blaming him, expecting nothing but arrogance and stupidity, but then she’d met him, and yeah, the male was arrogant, but he also gave a shit about her people, about this world. About all of it.

  Grace busied herself collecting glasses as Chaos and Lazarus walked across the floor, headed straight for the office. After she'd shown him where she’d found Tina's body the night before and shared everything she knew, he'd told her he was coming in to speak with Vince.

  Naturally, her boss would be their first stop—Tina and Hannah had both worked at Revelry—and going by the expression on Vince’s face, he wasn't happy about it.

  Both knights towered over him, and with an extremely unhappy glance her way, Vince led them to his office. She would have joined them, but Vince didn’t know about her and Chaos, or that they were working together. He had enough going on without her adding to it. Chaos would fill her in later if there was anything she needed to know. Her surety of that surprised her.

  He would, though. She had no doubt.

  “What are Chaos and Lazarus doing here?” the new girl beside her asked. Grace still couldn't remember her name, and she'd been told twice.

  “No idea.”

  Excitement lit the female’s eyes. “I was so sad to leave the compound after my training. They’re all so smokin' hot.”

  Grace’s hackles rose in an instant, and the urge to reach out and smash the poor unsuspecting female’s face against the wooden bar was almost irresistible. "They're both mated."