Breathing heavily, he looked down at the lifeless creature, at the thick black sludge that oozed from its neck onto the floral carpet.
That had been close, too damn close.
It didn’t matter who this demi was to him, or the circumstances. He’d been careless. He’d allowed the intensity of his reaction to cripple his powers. It wasn’t the first time he’d lost sight of his duty, had allowed his emotions to rule. Only last time the consequences of his carelessness had been devastating.
He cursed and straightened.
A new demi’s powers reached a peak exactly one month after they developed, when all that unstable energy could no longer be contained and escaped in a rush. That energy acted like a kind of beacon for them, helped pinpoint their location. But he and his brothers weren’t the only ones able to sense it, and that made the hybrids one hell of an easy target.
Demi-demons were a valuable commodity in the demon world, bought and sold, kept to exploit their unique abilities. If Lazarus hadn’t got to her first…
He needed to pull his head out of his ass, and fast.
Still, as adrenaline pumped through his system, heating his blood like it always did after a kill, he couldn’t stop himself from turning to her. As soon as he set eyes on her, he was hit by an all-consuming hunger. So fierce he had to lock his knees again or risk falling to them.
Anticipation tingled across his scalp and slid down his spine, but he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it, tried to shake it off. Whether Lazarus liked it or not, he needed her. If he let her slip through his fingers now, he wouldn’t be the only one to suffer the consequences.
Disgusted at himself, he ignored the roar of his body, and that’s when he registered the horror on her face. She was watching the Orthon as its headless body convulsed in violent, jerky movements on the floor. It had transformed, shifting back to its natural state. The thing was large in size, its leathery skin grayish in color, and jagged spikes protruded from its spine like some kind of giant reptile.
Its head had rolled to a stop at their feet, lips pulled back in a snarl revealing sharp yellow teeth, and its cloudy eyes were still open, staring blindly up at her.
That’s when the screaming started.
Chapter 3
One of the behemoth’s giant hands curled around Eve’s arm, and he hauled her up against his body, causing hers to collide with the solid wall of his chest. Oh God. He was huge. She tilted her head back, taking in his hard features, and her gaze slid higher, locking with startling green eyes.
Her jaw dropped, mouth opening and about to let loose another scream, when his other hand came down over her mouth, cutting it off before she could get it out.
Panic surged through her veins, and she reached up to clutch her attacker’s thick wrist, yanking and scratching like a wild cat in an attempt to loosen his grasp. The giant didn’t budge. Instead his grip tightened, holding her immobile in his massive arms.
He decapitated Mrs. Jensen.
His hand still over her mouth, he tilted her head back, forcing her to look at him again.
“Be still,” he rumbled. “Think about what you just saw.” His voice was deep and rough, more a growl than anything else.
Her mind tried to register what had just happened, what was happening. And an image of white, colorless eyes flashed through her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut, tried to make sense of what she’d seen.
She dragged a panicked breath in through her nose. Whatever the hell that thing was, it hadn’t been the sweet old woman who’d been coming to her shop for the last few years.
Her eyelids snapped open, her gaze shooting back up to his. This guy, this huge, terrifying mountain of a man, had shoved her out of the way, had protected her, hadn’t he?
Eve tested his hold, tried to pull free, but still he wouldn’t let go. She glanced back up at him. He was watching her, a fierce expression on his face, and those extremely green eyes felt like lasers trying to get inside her head.
She was going to die.
This was how it was going to happen. Some insane, knife-wielding lunatic was going to cut off her head and there was nothing she could do to stop him.
An eerie calm washed through her, taking all her fight with it.
Maybe she was going into shock. She guessed that was a good thing.
Several long seconds crept by, but he made no move to grab that wicked-looking knife. The heavy thud of his heart seemed to pound right through her, like a ticking time bomb counting down—to what she had no idea—while he held her to him, his body unnaturally still.
That feeling of time moving in slow motion, of being submerged, began to lift. She pushed through the haze, struggled to the surface, and her mind began to clear. A muffled sound filled her head and she realized the strangled, frantic sounds were coming from her. His rough, hot palm still covered her mouth, smothering her screams. Her throat burned from the effort, and tears tracked a heated path down her cheeks.
Maybe she was suffering some kind of psychotic episode and all this was some terrible nightmare? But it only took one glance to the floor to know what she’d seen had been no dream.
The creature’s remains were still there, right in her line of vision. The corpse was smoldering, flesh bubbling, releasing thick tendrils of acrid smoke. She’d never seen a dead body before, but she was pretty damn sure dissolving wasn’t normal. The pungent odor invaded her nostrils and burned a path to her lungs as she attempted to suck down much needed oxygen.
She felt claustrophobic with this giant’s oversized paw covering her mouth, and she tugged harder on his fingers. Warm lips pressed against her ear and she stilled.
“I can feel your heart pounding like a frightened rabbit. You need to calm yourself, demi, before I can release you.” God, that voice. It was pure gravel.
Calm herself? She wriggled, managing to jerk her head to the side, and let out a muffled scream.
“Be still,” he hissed.
Like hell. She fought harder, and his grip on her tightened to the point of pain. She couldn’t hold back her whimper.
He cursed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her gaze automatically traveled to the remains on her floor, now nothing but a sooty ash-like residue, the clothes still lying in the shape of a body that had moments ago filled them.
Eve jumped as his mouth brushed against her ear again. “When I remove my hand, you will not scream,” the guy growled. “Do you understand?” His warm breath skittered across her cheek, and the deep, raspy timbre of his voice worked its way down her spine, causing her to shiver in response. She nodded, with little choice but to obey.
“Good, that’s good, demi,” he murmured and eased his hand from her mouth.
She stumbled back a step and stared up at him, getting a better look at his hard futures. His green eyes were unnaturally bright and deep set, his nose long and straight, and his square jaw in need of a shave. The muscle there jumped as her gaze dropped to his full lips.
The size of the man would intimidate anyone, but coupled with his harsh, almost cruel features, he looked like the brutal killer he was. Panic and confusion caused her pulse to race double time.
Her gaze darted back to the floor. “W-what was that…thing?”
“There’s a lot you need to know, but we don’t have time for long explanations.” He scanned the quiet street beyond her shop’s window. “There’ll be more trackers coming for us soon. We have to leave.”
Her stomach lurched. “Leave?”
“We can’t stay here, it’s too dangerous,” he said.
Eve shook her head. “I don’t know who you are, or…or what you want, but there’s been some kind of mistake. My name’s not Demi. I’m not…I’m not who you’re looking for.”
His beautiful yet terrifying eyes locked with hers. “There is no mistake.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“You will.” His brow creased, gaze moving over her, doing a quick scan from head to t
oe and back. “You’re cold.”
She blinked up at him. “What?”
“You’re shivering. I can hear your teeth chattering.”
Eve stared up at him as if he were speaking in tongues. And he stared back, she guessed waiting for a response. She couldn’t form one. His fingers flexed lightly around her arm before he released her and slipped off his jacket, revealing a brightly colored tattoo that covered his entire right arm, or what she could see of it at least. She flinched when he reached around her and draped it over her shoulders.
He made a low growling sound. “Put your arms in the sleeves.”
She did as he asked, because…well, what else could she do? He zipped the warm leather up to her chin. The gentle action was so completely at odds with what she’d witnessed moments ago, all she could do was stare. God, that weird sense of calm washed over her again, and alarmingly, she felt herself sway closer to him.
The jacket was far too big but, damn, it smelled fantastic. The wonderful scent rose up to surround her, and she couldn’t help taking several deep breaths. Heat seeped into her skin from the worn rawhide and managed to ease the bone-deep chill that had gripped her.
Cocking his head to the side, he gave her another once-over and, obviously happy with what he saw, he took hold of her wrist and started moving toward the door.
His earlier words shot through her head again. “No, stop. I’m not going anywhere with you.” As she struggled against his grasp, her gaze landed again on the mess scattered on the floor, and a hit of pure fear spiked through her. She needed to run, to get away from this man, from what the existence of that creature meant.
Without a word, he stopped in his tracks and spun to face her. Grabbing her chin, his lethal gaze collided with hers. “I’m not going to hurt you, but we have to leave.” Tilting his head in the direction of the ashy remains, he added, “We sure as hell don’t have time for this.”
He started dragging her toward the rear exit again.
Never let your attacker take you to a second location—she’d read that somewhere. But the panic swamping her made it impossible to think, let alone come up with some clever way to escape. She tried to pull her hand free from the fingers clamped around her wrist, but it made no difference. He was too strong. Eve tried a different tactic and went completely limp. She was no lightweight, and dragging her feet should definitely have slowed him down…
He didn’t even break stride, simply slipped an arm around her waist and carried on.
In a last-ditch effort to save herself, Eve grabbed onto one of the bookshelves and kicked out as hard as she could. He grunted when her foot connected with hard flesh, but still he didn’t let go.
Eve clung to the wood for dear life, her nails scratching off flakes of bright yellow paint as he tried to yank her free. When that didn’t work, he reached back and started prying her fingers loose. His free arm still circling her waist, holding her in place as he worked. The tug of war caused the shelf to topple over with a loud crash and her precious books tumbled all over the floor. Before she could find something else to grab on to, he hauled her toward him and lifted her off the ground as if she weighed nothing.
“No. Let me go.”
He jerked her higher, and her face smooched against his shoulder. He held her up with one powerful arm under her butt, manhandling her like she was nothing but a rag doll. As she kicked and struggled, another lungful of that unique scent of his assaulted her, but this time stronger. It filled her senses, spicy and potent, almost drugging. Stilling, and without conscious thought, she inhaled deeply, desperate to take in more.
What the hell am I doing? She couldn’t believe she was actually smelling her attacker.
Fight, her mind screamed, but her arms were useless, trapped against her sides in his viselike grip. With no other weapon at her disposal, Eve lifted her head and sank her teeth into the exposed flesh between his neck and shoulder. Hard. A snarl rumbled through his chest, and he dropped her back to her feet, his fingers an unbreakable band around her upper arm.
“Stop fighting.” He swiped at the wound she’d caused and looked down at the blood on his fingers. “You need to calm the fuck down. We don’t have time for this. You’re only making it harder on yourself.”
Was he serious? “Oh, well, sorry about that,” she fired at him. This guy was nuts if he thought she was going anywhere with him. “I wasn’t sure on the correct etiquette for a kidnapping.” She motioned to the door. “Please, Mr. Giant-Homicidal-Maniac, lead the way.”
His eyes narrowed and he cursed under his breath, that death grip he had on her arm loosening a little. “Look, I don’t—”
Pressing her palms against his chest, she took advantage and shoved as hard as she could. It was like trying to shift a brick wall. The guy was on her before she’d taken two steps toward the door. One of his huge arms wrapped around her, pulling her in close to his hard body.
“Fucking hell, female. Don’t you understand? I’m trying to help you.”
“What I understand is that some lunatic, hopped up on steroids, decapitated…well, I have no idea what that thing was, and is now trying to abduct me.”
Eve clutched the forearm that surrounded her waist, the muscle bunched hard as stone beneath her palm. She was no match for this man. He could kill her with one flick of his thick wrist and there was nothing she could do to stop him. His warm hands slid from around her middle and drifted up her sides, leaving a hot trail of gooseflesh in their wake. Gripping her shoulders, he turned her to face him.
He looked down at her, brows drawn, determined eyes boring into her.
Suddenly she was a deer caught in headlights—right before impact. And any hope of escape she’d stupidly had sprouted wings and flew out the window with its tail tucked between its legs.
When he spoke, his voice was low, cold, filling her with dread, “Right now, I am the only thing standing between you and life as some sick fuck’s slave. So unless you want to wait here for the next Orthon demon to track you down, then, after he’s used you in ways that will leave you begging for death, deliver you to your new master, I suggest you come with me quietly.”
Demon?
As much as she wanted to reject what this man was saying, close her eyes and convince herself this was all some crazy nightmare, she couldn’t.
“Why would it want me?”
“Because you’re…special,” he said, voice raspy.
The hair on the back of her neck lifted. “What does that even mean?”
His expression softened a little. “I think you have some idea. Something happened to you? Something you don’t understand, something that scares you?”
Oh God. “Does this…does this have something to do with me hearing people’s thoughts?”
It was the first time she’d said it out loud, and yeah, it sounded even more ridiculous than when she said it in her head. He stared back at her for a moment, opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then he nodded again.
She swallowed hard. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you?”
The muscle in his clenched jaw jumped again and he dipped his chin.
Her limbs went weak, and if it hadn’t been for the guy’s quick reflexes, she would have ended up in a pile on the floor. His arms came around her, strong and sure, holding her gently against his side. This time she didn’t fight him off; she didn’t have the energy to. Her mind swam, trying to sort through what was happening, what this all meant. Weirdly, the thought that came through the loudest was how nice it felt to be held.
The last person to touch her had been Eric, and going by his chaotic thoughts, he’d hated himself for wanting her. Had hated her even while he wanted her in some sick and twisted way.
“You good? Or do I need to carry you?” His voice was kind of terrifying, and so damn deep she felt it all the way down to her toes. Shaking her head, she stepped out of his arms.
The adrenaline racing through her blood had burned itself out, and with its de
parture came a kind of clarity, highlighting the enormity of her situation.
Her choices were limited. And as terrified as she was of this guy, and right now he was up there with the bogeyman, she didn’t think she had any other option but to go with him.
Maybe he knew what was going on and what had caused the changes in her. She needed answers, and at that moment he seemed the lesser of two evils. That creature had tried to hurt her, and she realized if it hadn’t been for the behemoth standing in front of her, it would have succeeded. That had to count for something.
If more were on the way, she didn’t want to be here when they showed up.
Still, it didn’t mean he wasn’t capable of removing her head the minute her back was turned, but considering the alternative? She swallowed hard, looked up into his direct gaze, and searched those harsh features. Yeah, he scared the crap out of her, but he was a better prospect than the thing that dissolved into ash on her shop floor.
Swallowing down the fear still threatening to choke her, she lifted her chin. “Okay…let’s go.”
Chapter 4
“Wise decision.” Then he was on the move again.
Eve tugged on his arm. “Hang on. First you have to promise you’re not going to hurt me.”
He looked at her, brow raised. “You want me to…promise?”
“Yes.” Okay, she guessed that did sound kind of stupid. Like a killer’s promise would mean jack in the first place.
“Jesus.” He shook his head, looking frustrated. “I promise I will never physically hurt you.”
“Right…well, that’s good, then.”
“Can we go now?”
Knight's Redemption (Knights of Hell Book 1) Page 3