Knight's Redemption (Knights of Hell Book 1)

by Sherilee Gray

The door across the room banged shut and she looked up. Lazarus was striding across the room, a scowl on his face, eyes furious.

  “Yeah, you pushed her too hard. She’s fucking bleeding,” he said.

  James planted his hands on his hips. “This isn’t unusual, Laz. You’ve seen it yourself—”

  “Leave us.”

  Eve stood. “Lazarus—”

  “I said go,” he said to James.

  James muttered something under his breath, offered her a reassuring smile, and strode from the room.

  Eve shook her head. “He wasn’t wrong.”

  Lazarus was in front of her, staring at her like he expected her to fall to pieces in front of him. “About what?” he grunted.

  “You really are surly.”

  One of his brows lifted. “You haven’t seen surly, female.”

  The look in his eyes, the way the bright green had darkened, made her belly warm. Then she remembered earlier that morning, and what he’d almost walked in on. Her face heated and his eyes flared like he could read her mind.

  She quickly looked away and the sudden movement had her clutching her head.

  He cursed and scooped her up, lifting her off her feet like she was weightless, which she was not.

  “What are you doing?” she said, feeling even more embarrassed.

  “Taking you somewhere you can rest.”

  “I don’t need to be carried.”

  He ignored her and strode out the door and down the hall. Eve didn’t know what to do with her hands and in the end rested one on his shoulder. The heat of his skin seeped through his shirt. God, he was hot. And she could feel his heart pounding against her, faster than what was normal. But then, maybe that was a demon thing as well?

  She was so focused on every move, every shift of his muscles, the places their bodies touched, she hadn’t noticed when the elevator opened that it wasn’t on her floor, not until he shoved a door open and strode into what was obviously his apartment.

  He put her on the couch and stepped back as if she’d shocked him then paced away and shook out his hands, like he had in the car the day before right after he’d touched her.

  He stopped suddenly and turned to her, looking edgy as hell. “Drink?”

  The question threw her. “Um…sure.”

  He strode to the small kitchen off to the side, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and a couple of kitchen towels he’d dampened under the tap, and came back.

  “Here.”

  “Thanks.” She took the water from him and used the towels to clean up while he watched her, again from a distance.

  “I’m fine, if you’d rather I leave,” she said.

  “I don’t want you to leave.”

  The way he said that was so low she was surprised the ground didn’t shake. “Is there a reason—”

  “Are you still in pain?” he asked, talking right over her.

  “It’s almost completely gone.”

  “Good, that’s…good.” He stood, solid thighs braced apart, hands at his sides, fingers curled into fists. He was anything but relaxed. Everything he said was at odds with his body language. “Hungry?”

  “No,” she said at the same time as her stomach rumbled so loudly there was no way he’d missed it. Cue more blushing. She’d been so nervous about her first training session she’d skipped lunch.

  He frowned. “You’re hungry. Why did you lie?”

  Eve’s mouth opened, but she didn’t know what to say.

  “I frighten you,” he said. “You want to leave.”

  Yes, she wanted to leave, but not because Lazarus frightened her. He overwhelmed her, though, in a whole lot of different ways. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Right,” he muttered and walked to the phone, punching in a couple of numbers. She listened while he asked for food to be brought up. When he turned back, she didn’t miss the change in his posture, the way he rolled his shoulders and unclenched his jaw as if forcing himself to relax.

  He watched her for several long seconds, then said, “Will you eat with me?” He rubbed the back of his neck and his huge biceps bulged. “I know we got off to a rocky start, and the way I’ve been acting…” He cleared his throat. “Will you eat with me?” he asked again.

  Eve had no idea what was going on, or what this was about, but he was making an effort, for whatever reason, and she couldn’t bring herself to say no when self-preservation told her to do just that.

  For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. There was this draw, this pull to him she didn’t understand, and it was messing with her, big time.

  Like this morning, the way you’d gotten yourself off thinking of him.

  Thank God it wasn’t Lazarus who could read minds.

  Chapter 8

  She was looking at him again, in that way, cheeks pink, lids heavy.

  Every muscle in his body locked up. So much for trying to relax. He thought if he brought her here, ate with her, started a conversation, he could explain what she was to him. He could make it as pain free as possible.

  She’d been in his room all of ten minutes and already he was losing it. Usually he had more control than this. But with Tobias still linked to them, doing his damnedest to corrupt them, as well as the equinox almost there, he was struggling. His demon knew the portal would be opening in a matter of days and it felt the call.

  If you were mated to Eve that wouldn’t be a problem anymore.

  And he could finish Tobias and help his brothers regain full control as well.

  She was watching him. He strode toward her, taking the seat opposite. Looming over her wouldn’t help his cause, even if sitting still made him want to jump out of his damned skin, especially around her.

  She watched him, looking slightly alarmed like she knew something was coming, something she wouldn’t like.

  Her fingers dug into the couch cushions. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Again, he found himself wanting to soothe her. Searching his mind for a gentle way to tell her how important she was to him, that she was literally his very own needle in a haystack. “I need to tell you some things, about me, about your place here. I just don’t know where the hell to start.”

  She pulled one of the cushions into her lap, her eyes so wide, so full of fear he fucking wanted to roar. The female was stuck with him, a broken male who had no clue how to make this okay for her. Because it wasn’t okay. None of this was okay.

  “You know I’m half demon?”

  She nodded.

  “My other half is angel.”

  She blinked over at him. “Angel?”

  He dipped his chin.

  She stared at him for several seconds, then choked out, “Of course you are.” She looked panicked. “I guess that makes sense. If demons are real then angels only seem logical. Next you’ll tell me vampires and witches and werewolves exist.”

  He just stared at her.

  Her eyes widened, her throat working. “That’s…yeah, that’s…” She shook her head, at a loss for words. “Just great. Not terrifying at all.”

  He pushed on before they got sidetracked and he fucking chickened out. “You know what we do, what our job is. But being what we are, that mix of dark and light, good and evil…there’s this, this constant struggle inside us. This push and pull. Usually, maintaining control, maintaining balance isn’t a problem, but something happened to mess with that balance, and we’re…struggling.”

  “That’s…wow, a lot to take in. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, how hard that must be.” She shook her head, her dark waves moving around her lovely face. “So something happened and now you’re what? Getting pulled to your…um, dark side?”

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what’s happening.”

  She was frowning, and he shouldn’t be thinking how much that made him want to kiss her.

  “What will happen to you? Is there something you can do?”

  Eve looked genuinely worried, and there was good reason
for her to be. Time to finish this. “There is something I can do, but I can’t do it alone.”

  She sat forward, those beautiful eyes so intent on him his demon was damn near mesmerized by her. “What? What is it—”

  Someone pounded on the door, startling Eve and she broke eye contact, twisting to look at it.

  “Laz,” Rocco called through the door. “You there?”

  Lazarus cursed and strode to the door, wrenching it open. “What?”

  His bother stood there, dressed to fight, his short sword—the weapon gifted to them by the angels and used by all the knights—strapped to his thigh. “Why aren’t you answering your damned phone?” He stuck his head in the door. “Ahhh, right. Yeah, sorry, but we need you. All hands on deck.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “A bunch of rogues tearing shit up in the city.”

  “Rogues?” Eve was standing, her gaze on Rocco.

  Like all the knights, his brother was tall and built, but he chose to decorate his face with a lot of metal and wore a short blue mohawk. The guy stood out in a crowd.

  “Give me five to weapon up,” Laz said. Roc gave him a chin lift and left.

  “You’re going to fight?” Eve said as he strode across the living room.

  He stopped at his bedroom door, hand on the frame, fingers digging into the drywall, pissed the hell off. He had been so damn close, so close to telling her.

  “Is it dangerous?” she asked, gorgeous blue eyes full of fear.

  Was that fear for him? Did she actually give a shit what happened to him? Christ, he hoped not. “It’s what we do. We fight demons and we send them back to hell.” He walked away, unable to look at her any longer, and quickly strapped on his weapons.

  When he walked back out, she was standing in the middle of the room, looking unsure. “Stay here if you want, until you’re feeling better. I’ll be gone awhile.” It was crazy how much he wanted her in his place, to know that while he was out fighting she was here, safe in his room. His demon liked that idea as well, the bastard close to purring at the image that flashed though Lazarus’s mind, of Eve…naked, asleep in his bed.

  Ready for him when he returned.

  He sucked in a sharp breath and headed for the door, every step feeling weighted, everything in him not wanting to leave her. Shit. He yanked the door open and turned back to her. She was chewing on her bottom lip and he wanted to lick it, suck that full, abused lip so bad his gut ached.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he forced out, voice wrecked. Then he left before she could answer, closing the door tight behind him.

  The knights weren’t the only ones affected by the equinox drawing closer.

  The demons that’d made Earth their home could be equally affected, though Lazarus had never seen anything like this.

  The back of the sandwich shop was coated in blood, human remains hanging around the room like twisted decorations—a hand here, a foot there, intestines dangling from the light above—while three naked Leathren demons, coated in blood, fucked on the shop floor, completely oblivious to the company they now had.

  Leathren usually kept to themselves, preferred their own company, and were known for their shy natures. They didn’t eat human flesh, or any other for that matter. The demons fed off other people’s pain and suffering, but they never caused it. They were scavengers. In Hell they hung around torture chambers, absorbing screams and cries. On Earth they were usually found near the sick, or stalked human killers and abusers to get their fix.

  This was not in their natures, none of it.

  Rocco turned to him, brows raised, just as confused as Laz. Gunner stood on the other side of the ménage looking no less confused.

  “What the fuck is this?” Roc said.

  “I don’t even think they know what they’re doing,” Gunner said.

  He was right. Their eyes were glassy as hell, oblivious to the knights standing just a few feet from them.

  Gunner twirled one of his blades. “We can’t let them live. They’ve killed humans.”

  Laz agreed. “We’ll take out two of them and bring one in for questioning. Something is way off here.”

  They were about to move in when all three demons stopped what they were doing, lifted their heads and turned to them, eyes still glazed and teeth bared.

  “Creepy fuckers,” Rocco muttered.

  He was not wrong. He and his brothers pulled their weapons, about to move in, when all three demons jumped up, ran to one of the work stations, and in unison each picked up a knife. Instead of coming at them, though, they lifted them to the base of their throats.

  “Fuck.” Rocco ran for them.

  He didn’t make it. The three demons lay dead on the floor and were ashing out moments later.

  “Christ,” Rocco said. “What the hell was the point of that?”

  Laz shook his head. “Fucked if I know.”

  Gunner pulled out his phone. “I’ll take pictures of this place, show the others. Zenon might know something.”

  Zenon was their resident expert on Hell and the only one of their brothers who had been there, though he never spoke of it. If this was some kind of ritual, he’d know.

  They left a short time later, leaving the place for the human police to find. Their forensics couldn’t pick up demon or angel DNA so they were safe.

  “You think Diemos was behind whatever the fuck that was back there?” Roc said.

  “Fuck knows.” The ruler of Hell somehow had the ability to communicate with the demons he sent out, but that wasn’t a group of demons following an order. That was something else completely.

  “I need a drink,” Rocco said.

  He wasn’t the only one.

  They ended up at a bar in the center of the city. It was owned by a demi they knew well, and the clientele was varied, in other words not just human, or demon for that matter. But the difference was the demons that came there followed the rules, had been given sanctuary, and knew how lucky they were to be allowed here on Earth. The other beings here were of no concern to the knights and they left each other alone.

  Gunner came back from the bar with a bottle of whiskey and three glasses and put it in the middle of the table. Rocco poured.

  “So, you mated yet?” he asked, sliding a glass over to Laz.

  “What do you think?” He downed the drink and motioned for another.

  Rocco sat forward, expression serious. “I think you’re overthinking this when you know there’s no other option. Get it over with. Plus, she’s hot. What more do you need?”

  “Jesus, you have no fucking clue,” Laz said then looked at Gunner. “What about you? Nothing to add?”

  His brother shook his head, running his hand over his buzz cut, the scar through his lips twisting his mouth when he sneered. “Do whatever the fuck you want. It’s your life not mine.”

  Something moved through Gun’s eyes, something that looked a fuck of a lot like pain. Laz had seen it before, but Gunner didn’t like to talk at the best of times. There was no chance of getting the guy to open up.

  Gunner stood and headed toward the group of hellhounds across the bar. The New Jersey pack was lethal and only came to Roxburgh for business. Gunner had struck up a friendship with a couple of them and because of it they helped the knights out from time to time. One of their males and his bitch had been watching Gun since he came in. Gunner leaned in, said something in the guy’s ear, and then they all headed to the back of the club and the exit to the alley.

  “The guy needs to talk instead of fucking away his feelings,” Rocco said beside him.

  Laz snorted. “Besides Zen, I’d say that pretty much describes every one of us.” Though as appealing as the idea of fucking away his feelings was tonight, there was only one woman he wanted, one woman he would ever want now he knew she existed. That’s just the way it worked.

  And he couldn’t have her, not tonight, maybe not ever depending on what she said when he finally explained what he wanted, what he needed from her.
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  “Yeah, you’re right,” Roc said. “Best I get on that.” He stood and melted into the crowd as well, making a beeline to a group of human females.

  Laz stayed where he was. He had a bottle of whiskey to finish.

  It was three in the morning when they landed on the balcony to the control room and walked inside. Alcohol didn’t affect them like humans—they had to drink a hell of a lot more to get wasted—but Laz had managed a nice buzz. Maybe that would help him sleep.

  James was behind a desk, working on one of the laptops, and lifted his head when he heard them come in.

  As they neared, the guy frowned. “What the hell’s that smell?”

  “Gunner,” Rocco said.

  James’s gaze slid to Gunner. “What is it?”

  “Hellhound,” Rocco filled in helpfully.

  Gunner scowled.

  “You were fighting hellhounds?” James looked worried.

  “Nope,” Rocco said, grinning. “Well, maybe. Fuck knows what they get up to between the sheets.” He mock shuddered. “Do they stay in human form?” he asked Gunner. “Or does shit get kinky?”

  Gunner growled and ran at Rocco, taking him to the floor.

  Lazarus ignored them both, their grunts and James’s cry of alarm, because this was nothing unusual. Idiots. He shook his head and left them to it, hitting the hall and jogging down the stairs to his floor. She wouldn’t still be there, of course she wouldn’t, but the urgency riding him, making him almost run to his door, didn’t give a fuck.

  He felt her, the hum of her so strong he wondered why the door wasn’t rattling off its hinges.

  She was still there.

  He unlocked the door and strode in.

  Fuck.

  Eve was asleep on the couch. Her body curled in a ball, knees tucked up, hands by her face. Her dark hair was splayed over the cushion under her head and it looked so damn soft he took a step closer, desperate to touch it. Her lashes were thick, the same intense black as her hair, and they rested against her pale skin.

  And her lips…

  Fuck.

  They were cherry colored and full, and Lazarus wanted to know what they would feel like against his, how they would taste, more than anything in his whole life.