Knight's Redemption (Knights of Hell Book 1)

by Sherilee Gray

  “You know, it never ceases to amaze me just how butt ugly some of you fuckers are,” Rocco said in a casual tone. “Or how stupid.”

  Kryos snorted beside him. Rocco wasn’t wrong. Even in human form this bunch made Freddy Krueger look like male model material. Despite Rocco’s casual words, he almost vibrated with rage and a need to fight. This group was nothing but a sacrifice, sent out first to distract them. More would be waiting to take their chances, and as soon as Laz and his brothers were busy fighting, would make a break for it before the gate sealed again.

  Two of them were clever enough to realize Roc had just insulted them, and growled.

  Dropping all pretense of cool, calm, and collected, Rocco’s patience evaporated and he lurched forward, his demon writhing restlessly beneath his skin. “Come on, you ugly fuckers. Let’s go.”

  They fanned out, pulling their own weapons. The big one from the back stepped forward, a manic grin splitting its face. They learned why it was so pleased with itself when the mammoth dragged a human female from behind its back. Blood trailed down her neck and other wounds on her battered body. She looked like a walking corpse, her skin bruised and pallid, scarred emotionally and physically from months held below.

  She’d been in the hands of absolute evil, her body used mercilessly, and in ways that would turn your stomach.

  “Motherfucker,” Kryos growled.

  For the hell’s gate to activate the demons needed to draw blood. Human blood was not necessary, but it was the most powerful. Which meant the gate would stay open longer.

  Chaos cursed.

  The female’s eyes were blank, and she didn’t make a sound nor did she struggle. Laz had seen that look before. Her mind had shut down, desperate to escape the unimaginable horrors she’d repeatedly suffered.

  The demon fisted her hair and wrenched her head back, dragging its tongue up the trail of blood dripping down her throat. It grinned. “Let us past, Knight, or I’ll remove her head.”

  Before anyone had the chance to answer, a whistling sound echoed above Lazarus’s head.

  The demons looked up.

  Thud.

  One of Zenon’s axes landed dead center, almost cleaving the fucker’s head in two.

  “Jesus, Zen,” Chaos muttered.

  His fugly companions stared, stunned, for several seconds before all holy hell broke loose. The remaining four, knowing their options were limited, rushed them. They weren’t particularly skilled, and were dispatched with little effort. But more leaped through the portal and kept coming.

  Two came at Laz. He took one out on the fly while the other circled him, trying to find an opening. Lazarus’s demon rippled beneath his skin, desperate for release. It was a struggle, but he somehow managed to maintain his human form.

  The demon struck out with its blade, but Laz deflected it with a kick to the sternum. The demon staggered back just as Chaos spun and swung, removing its head with his sword.

  Kryos had closed in on the injured human female and shielded her as he fought. There were more demons than usual, the reason for that he had no idea, but it couldn’t be anything good. Lazarus took out as many as he could, but more replaced them as soon as they were down.

  He hissed in pain as a blade glanced off his ribs, and swung around to face his attacker. The coward had already taken off, running for the mouth of the alley. The next came at him before he could go after it. While they continued to fight, more were able to slip through and escape.

  “There are too many,” Chaos roared.

  Laz couldn’t move from his position as two more came at him. He looked across at Zenon. He wielded both axes at once and was cutting through the demons surrounding him in an effort to get to those making a break for it. Zenon managed to create a gap and took off, his heavy boots ricocheting off the brick walls.

  They were bloody and pissed off by the time they’d cleared out the alley, crawling out of their skins, vibrating with the need to take their Kishi forms. Zenon hadn’t yet returned, so they partially shifted, unfurling their wings and took to the skies in search of him and any escapees. Kryos flew in front of Laz, the injured human cradled in his arms, then veered off, heading for a human hospital. Her memories would be wiped by the time she got there.

  Laz let the wind lift him higher, the brittle night air ruffling his hair and whipping through his clothes, cooling his overheated skin. He spotted an Ibwa demon, a monster that feasted on the bodies of the dead, running through an empty parking lot. He dipped his right shoulder and made a tight turn, determined to stop it. But before he could get there, Zenon swooped out of nowhere, his leathery batlike wings catching the moonlight before he scooped the flailing, screaming demon off the ground and took it high into the skies.

  Its lifeless body hit the asphalt with a sickening thud moments later, then turned to ash, the breeze scattering it into nothingness.

  Lazarus sucked in a sharp breath as Eve’s call grew in strength. She didn’t even know she was doing it. But it coiled around him, holding fast, making his head spin. He was powerless against it and for once didn’t fight it.

  He let it lead him home.

  Chapter 12

  Lazarus woke with Eve pressed against him, and a raging hard-on. Not exactly conducive to the serious conversation he knew he had to have with her this morning. First he had to explain the heavy gold amulet he’d slipped over her head after she’d fallen asleep.

  The piece of jewelry Silas gave them was supposed to help him somehow. Fucked if he knew what it did, but the angel had said “it was for her protection and would give him the time he needed”—whatever the fuck that meant. But they were leaving the compound today and he’d take any help offered to keep her safe.

  He probably should have given it to her as soon as Chaos had given it to him, but, yeah, that would have meant questions he hadn’t been ready to answer, still wasn’t ready to answer.

  He just hoped the angel’s cryptic words meant what he thought they did, that they could slow things down, could take things at their own pace, but with the way he was feeling, he was having his doubts.

  When he’d walked in last night, fresh from the hunt, desperate to calm the demon within, he hadn’t been able to resist climbing in with her, seeking her warmth. The connection between them was getting stronger by the day.

  Christ. He felt like he was losing his goddamned mind.

  With a little mewing sound, she wriggled closer, causing her shirt to ride up. Her soft warm belly pressed against his abs, scalding his skin, driving him insane. It took everything he had not to reach down and squeeze her delectable ass, spread her lush thighs, and bury himself deep inside her. His cock swelled and his hips surged forward of their own volition.

  Fuck, he had to get out of this bed now.

  But before he could move, she threw a leg over his hip, pressed her cheek against his chest, and burrowed a hand between their bodies, accidentally brushing the head of his achingly hard dick. He hissed, and jerked back. “Fuck.”

  Her eyes blinked open, and she stared up at him in surprised confusion, looking way too damned adorable. Fuck. No. Shoving back, he scrambled out of bed and bolted for the bathroom before she got an eyeful of the tentpole in his boxers, and slammed the door.

  “Motherfucker.” Stripping off, he climbed straight into the shower and turned the temperature to cold. The water hit his skin like icy pinpricks, but did fuck all to cool his heated blood. Fisting his dick, he squeezed the turgid flesh, trying to kill his erection. Dammit. No matter how hard he tried to ignore it, he could still feel Eve’s body pressed against his, her softness imprinted into his flesh, her scent branded into his senses.

  His dick twitched against his palm, and he growled in frustration. He didn’t want her in his head. She was fucking with his mind, not to mention his traitorous body.

  Lazarus cursed himself for a fool, even as he rested a hand against the wall, gripped his heavy cock, and proceeded to jerk himself off with fast, brutal strokes. Sliding
his palm from thick base to swollen head fast and hard. And all the while he thought about Eve’s lips on his, the way she tasted, the way she felt pressed up against him. How those soft full lips would feel around his cock. That was all it took.

  He gasped, coming in violent spurts, so hard his knees felt weak from it.

  Resting his forehead against the cool tile, he took a minute to slow the beating of his heart before shutting off the water. On trembling thighs, he climbed out and tried not to think about the fact that in his mind it had been Eve’s eyes watching him, Eve’s hand working his dick, and Eve’s name hissing through his lips as he’d emptied his balls.

  Grabbing a pair of jeans from the laundry hamper, he shoved them on, opened the door, and walked into his bedroom.

  Eve was sitting up, still under the covers, and she stared over at him warily. The heavy gold amulet he’d put around her neck last night was in her hands.

  “What is this?” She traced the detailed angel’s wings engraved on its otherwise smooth surface. “It’s beautiful.”

  He doubted the delicate image was necessary for the amulet to be effective. Angels were just that damned arrogant.

  When she looked up, she sucked in a breath. Her gaze locked on his chest, his brand. “Is that a burn?”

  He dipped his chin.

  “That must have been incredibly painful.”

  “I barely remember. I’ve had it a long time.”

  Her eyes widened as she took in the rest of him. “My God, what happened to you?”

  He glanced down at himself. He looked a lot better than last night. The bruising had all but gone, and the deeper slice he’d taken to the ribs was nothing more than an angry red line. He shrugged. “It’s nothing.”

  “You’ve been hurt.”

  “I’m fine.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I think it’s time I told you a few things.”

  She released a shaky breath, but her voice didn’t waver when she spoke. “I’d like that. I hate feeling so helpless.”

  Her inner strength truly amazed him. “That,” he said, pointing to the necklace, “you must wear at all times.”

  “What is it?” He moved to her side and took it from her fingers. It was warm to the touch, heated from her skin. Lifting it, he slid it over her head, resting it between the swell of her breasts. It looked lovely around her neck.

  Dammit, focus.

  “The necklace is imbued with angelic power. I wish I could tell you exactly what it does. Angels can be cryptic as fuck, but if they want you to wear this, there’s a reason for it.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “Silas?”

  Shit. “You heard us talking? What else did you hear?” The words came out harsher than he’d intended.

  She shook her head. “Nothing really. I was pretty out of it. Silas is an angel?”

  He released a relieved breath. “Yes.” He was their own personal guardian angel, one who spoke in riddles and got his kicks out of confusing the shit out of his charges.

  She nodded, and again amazed him with her strength. Her fingers brushed across the shiny golden chain. “Will it help with your brothers and how they reacted to me?”

  “I don’t know.” Fucking Silas. Why couldn’t he just say exactly what it did? Why all the damn secrets? “But it provides protection, wards against evil.”

  “Demons?”

  He nodded.

  She bit her lower lip. “What about…ah, what about you?”

  Is that what she wanted? Something to protect her from him? He wished the amulet worked that way, for both their sakes. But when he woke up this morning, he realized it wasn’t going to be that easy. Yes, her power was now masked from him, and the part of her that had made it possible for him to track her like he had when she first came into her power was blocked. And yeah, that was a really fucking good thing. No demon would be able to sense her while she wore it. But that weird tight feeling in his chest, the buzz in the back of his skull, that awareness of her, was still there just as intense as before, which meant, he was shit out of luck. Whatever Silas meant when he said it would “give him the time he needed” had nothing to do with dimming his desire for Eve, or the call to mate with her, like he’d hoped it would.

  The amulet was designed for something else entirely. And he guessed for something more than what he’d discovered this morning. He just wished he knew what exactly.

  “It doesn’t affect me in that way,” he said.

  She tilted her head to the side. “Okay.”

  He couldn’t read her expression, didn’t know if she was pleased, disappointed, or indifferent. He shoved his fingers though his hair, at a loss for words, no damn clue how to proceed with her sitting there staring at him. “Christ, Eve, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “For what?” she said, voice a soft rasp that skittered across his skull.

  “For throwing your life into chaos, for dragging you into my fucked-up world,” he choked out.

  Her fingers unconsciously toyed with the golden disk at her throat. “You had no choice. You saved me, Lazarus.”

  He cursed and stood, pacing away.

  “What is it?”

  He cleared his throat. “Just…don’t take off the necklace.”

  She blinked up at him. “I won’t.”

  “Look, I know the other day you were frightened. My brothers, they scared you.” Mother of all understatements. “But that wasn’t them. I’ve talked to them, and they feel like shit for the way they acted. There’s a lot going on at the moment. Shit that’s fucking with us in a big way. Just know that I’ll do whatever I have to. I’ll make sure you’re safe. No matter where I am.” Once he and Eve were mated and everything had died down, this would be her home. These were her people. He needed her to trust them or he’d never be able to leave her.

  She didn’t speak, but watched him with those big innocent eyes. She was so damn sweet.

  “Eve? Do you trust me to do that for you?” he asked, needing to hear the words from her.

  She gave him an unconvincing jerk of her chin. It shouldn’t, but her unconvincing response gutted him. He didn’t deserve her trust, but he wanted it all the same.

  “Take a shower and pack your stuff. We leave in half an hour.” She flinched at his sudden abrupt tone. Jesus. He fucking hated that he frightened her so damn easily. But most of all, he hated that he cared.

  Eve sat perched on the edge of a bed in a hotel room they’d checked into earlier and watched Lazarus stalk about restlessly. The guy really was huge, well over six feet. His hair was rumpled from him shoving his fingers into it repeatedly. The disheveled look didn’t help soften him any.

  The size of him, coupled with those hard features and lately a permanent scowl, ensured the guy had the same effect as an escaped grizzly when he entered a room.

  As he moved, she couldn’t help but admire the strength of his body, not to mention his lean hips and fine butt. What would it be like to be with a man like him? The thought had plagued her since waking pressed against his hard chest, his hand resting on her hip, his heavy legs tangled with hers.

  She almost snorted out loud at the ridiculous notion. She’d certainly never find out. It was like their kiss had never happened. When she’d woken, he’d shoved her back like she had cooties then stormed to the bathroom and shut himself in.

  Now they were stuck in an airport hotel due to a mess-up with their tickets, waiting for the next available flight. Lazarus wasn’t handling this news well.

  His jeans hung low, molded to his powerful legs as they ate up the carpeted floor. Heavy black boots carried him to a small table and chairs in front of the sliding glass doors, and he shrugged off his leather jacket, slinging it over the table.

  He scowled deeper, crossing his arms, and glared out the window. The plain black T-shirt he wore strained around his biceps, and she couldn’t help admire the intricate tattoo that completely covered his right arm. It snaked its way up the corded muscle, disappeared under the slee
ve, and reappeared halfway up the side of his neck.

  He was like no other man she had ever met, utterly masculine. She shivered at all that barely restrained power. He was so different from Eric it was laughable.

  Would he stay with her when they reached their destination, or would he drop her off and go? Anxiety accompanied the thought along with an unreasonable feeling of loss. God, she was confused. Why couldn’t she think when he was near? The desire that stirred inside her when she was with him was intense, completely out of her control, and made absolutely no frickin’ sense.

  That delicious scent of his filled the small room, demanding a response she didn’t understand. Her body reacted once again, but no matter how nice he’d been, how well he’d taken care of her after she’d blacked out, how he’d made her feel when he kissed her, she couldn’t allow herself to get attached. She didn’t know him, not really. She wasn’t anything special. This was his job.

  “That’s an impressive tattoo you have there. Did it hurt when you had it done?” she asked, needing to get out of her own head. Her reaction to being separated from him was ridiculous.

  “I was born with it.” He rubbed his hand over the large colorful symbols, each linked to the next. “It tells a story. What we are, where we come from. Each knight has one.”

  She wanted to ask what the beautiful symbols meant, but his closed-off expression made it clear the subject was not up for conversation. He confirmed it when he turned away, staring out the window again, shoulders tense.

  “Are we safe here?” she asked.

  “I don’t think we’ve been followed. I can’t sense any Orthon nearby, but I can’t be sure,” he said.

  “That isn’t very reassuring,” she muttered.

  He spun around, and his gaze pinned her to the spot. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said with a fierceness that made it impossible to doubt. “I promise you that.”