He groaned, the memory hitting hard, the pain accompanying it a knife to the heart. No, he didn’t deserve happiness.
Weak.
Flawed.
As soon as this was over, he would deliver her to the compound, then he’d leave. He’d watch over her from a distance. His pain was nothing he didn’t deserve. All that mattered was her happiness. And if that meant watching her move on, watching her…fall in love with someone else, that’s the way it had to be. All that mattered was keeping her safe. Safe from Diemos. Safe from his demons.
And safe from Lazarus himself.
Lazarus punched the cushions again and propped his arm behind his head, unfolding his big body on the too short couch. He’d had another shitty night with absolutely no sleep whatsoever.
Another week had passed, a week of searching for Tobias and of lying scrunched up on this fucking couch.
A week of Eve avoiding him.
He fucking hated it. Last night had been no different from the previous torturous ones. He’d spent every second trying not to go into that damn bedroom. He wanted to go in there and beg her forgiveness. Spend hours with his face buried between those soft, creamy thighs, apologizing for the pain he’d caused her. He wanted to slide into that sweet pussy and take his time fucking her like he’d promised in that airport storage room.
Christ, it had only been a matter of weeks, but it felt so long ago now.
He rubbed his hands over his face.
Now she could barely even look at him.
Still, when he’d gotten back from searching the city last night, another night spent searching for Tobias, he’d done what he did every night. He opened her door and watched the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she slept.
And like every night, his desperate need for her freaked him out so much he’d kicked his own ass back to the couch.
The woman’s taste still lingered in his memory, branded into his senses. The more time he spent with her, the more he felt. He didn’t like it, didn’t want to deal with the tender feelings that stirred inside him. He didn’t know how to handle them. This was completely beyond his scope of knowledge.
Thankfully, things had settled down some at the compound now the autumnal equinox had come and gone, and with the amulet in Eve’s possession, she was at least safe from those who would hunt her.
Now he just needed to find Tobias. He was close, Lazarus could feel it. Then Eve would be free to do as she chose, without him.
He growled. Even the thought twisted him in knots. It was illogical, but during their short time together his feelings for her had become powerful, all consuming. It scared him. If he let her, the voluptuous female would not only claim his body but make him believe he had a heart worth salvaging.
Weak.
Flawed.
He shook off the direction his thoughts were heading. He’d spent the last few hours twisting himself in knots already.
The stack of books sitting on the coffee table caught his eye again. All of them Eve’s favorites, he knew because she’d shared her love of books with him back at the compound, and had told him the ones she reread all the time.
Many were copies of the books she’d been forced to leave behind. Brent brought them for her as a gift. The warm smile she’d given the other male when he’d presented them to her had turned Lazarus inside out with jealousy.
He’d seen the way she’d gazed at the large collection in her home as he’d ushered her out the front door for the last time, or the words she’d quietly spoken. Some of them belonged to my mother. He’d known how important they were to her.
He couldn’t help but be annoyed that he hadn’t thought of getting them for her first. Brent and Eve were sharing mealtimes, and it had become part of their routine to watch a movie before he went down to his club for the night. Lazarus didn’t like it.
He hated that he was jealous. He had no right to be, not anymore.
He was lucky Brent was there for her. He’d grown up around humans and better understood human emotions.
His Scarlet, on the other hand, had been more demon than human. He’d recognized that from the moment he’d found her. Eve was a different creature entirely. Lazarus didn’t have the first clue how to ease her pain and worry, and right then he wished he did.
The rustle of bedding drifted in from the other room, and he could imagine Eve shifting under the covers, stretching out across the white cotton sheets, all warm and rumpled and sleepy. The T-shirt she had on would cling to her, outlining her curves.
He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the images from his mind. He needed to get a hold of this yearning, this clawing, unending ache for her. But deep down he knew it would only get worse.
Reaching down, he shifted his massive erection, grunting at the contact. He’d go and take care of it himself, but it wouldn’t do any good. Only one person could ease this unrelenting need, and she lay in the other room.
Fucking her wasn’t all he wanted, though. No, he wanted so much more. He wanted her eyes on him, bright with happiness. He wanted her smiles, and goddammit, he wanted to be the one who had put them on her face. He wanted to talk to her for hours and learn every little thing about her.
He just wanted her. All of her.
You don’t deserve her.
He curled his fingers into tight fists. Somehow, he’d managed to control his demon this long without the need to take her again, but it was getting tougher by the day. Harder to resist and harder to keep his demon riding shotgun and not shoving him out of the driver’s seat.
But how could he ask her to let him taint her beautiful body after all the pain he’d caused her? To let him have her when the idea disgusted her?
Throwing off the covers, he sat up, groaning as he stood.
His cell started ringing.
Snatching it from the coffee table, he checked it. Unknown number. Not unusual. It could be James calling from the compound with an update. Most of their phones had blocked caller ID.
He put the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”
Silence.
“James?”
When more silence greeted him, he curled his fingers into a tight fist. It didn’t take a genius to work out who the mystery caller was. “Tobias.”
“Laz,” he said, voice cold, brittle.
Pain twisted in his chest at the sound of his brother’s voice, so sharp he felt like he’d taken a knife to the chest. “Tell me where you are,” Lazarus said. “I promise I’ll end it quick, brother. That has to better than the slow torture Diemos takes pleasure in handing out.”
“Hey, I’m all for torture. Maybe I’ll find out if that curvy little demi you have stashed enjoys being on the receiving end.” Lazarus barely contained a growl at the mention of Eve. “I’m surprised you left her unprotected. Out in the open like that, anyone could have taken advantage.”
He’d had spies here the night Eve worked in the club. Jesus, he could have lost her. She could have been taken from him. If she’d gone outside…
“Tobias—”
“Anyway, as tempting as your offer of a quick death is, I think I’ll wait for you to find me,” Tobias said, changing the subject back.
“Brother,” Lazarus choked out. “You can’t want this.”
“I’m not your fucking brother.”
Another slice of pain. No, he wasn’t. He didn’t know this male, didn’t recognize the cruelty, the hate in his deep voice.
“We both know it’s only a matter of time before you succumb,” Tobias said, and there was no missing how much he was looking forward to that day.
“I won’t let that happen.”
An arctic chuckle traveled down the line. “Yeah? I’m not so sure. As it is, your screwed-up sense of honor makes you weak. Instead of spending every waking hour searching for me, you return to that little demi you’re guarding. I can see why you’d want her around, of course. Her power is…impressive, and she is kind of hot. Tell me, have you fucked her yet, Laz?”
Tobias’s silence said more than words ever could. With his loss of control, he’d gifted his weakness to his enemy on a silver platter and thrown down a challenge all at the same time. But then, despite Tobias’s casual mention of Eve and her power, Lazarus had no doubt he already wanted her for Diemos’s army. Her ability to read minds would be a unique prize. And that was without knowing she had the power to open the portal. If he found out…
Yeah, that would be the whipped cream and cherry on top.
“Ah, she’s that good?” Tobias said finally. “Will she please me, do you think?”
Lazarus remained silent, refusing to bite, but all the while he was roaring inside.
“You never could control your emotions, could you, Lazarus?” He laughed, the sound causing the hairs on the back of his neck to lift. “That was always your weakness. It seems you’ve developed tender feelings for your mate. How sweet.” His voice dropped to a harsh whisper, full of promise and pure hatred. “You have no idea how much I’m going to enjoy taking her from you, asshole, like you took Scarlet from me.”
“I loved Scarlet. I’d do anything to bring her back.” Lazarus would never forgive himself for her death, and was powerless to stop his reaction. His demon reared inside him, pushed for release with a greater force than ever before.
“You took my mate from me and I’m going to make sure you know exactly what that feels like.”
Lazarus gritted his teeth, fighting for control.
Tobias’s voice was quiet and controlled when he spoke next. “Did you know as the connection strengthens between the two of you, your senses mesh? You will have the ability to feel what she’s feeling.”
Lazarus was barely hanging on to his sanity. He didn’t want to hear any more.
“No matter where you are, you will feel her take her last breath. Hear her scream your name, knowing there is nothing you can do to save her as her life’s blood drains from her used and broken body.” Tobias took a shuddering breath. “That sound will haunt you every day for the rest of your life. Best you watch her closely, brother.” Then the phone disconnected.
Lazarus stood there, in the middle of the room, fighting to maintain control. When that failed, he roared and kicked the wooden coffee table in front of him across the room. It crashed into the wall and splintered into kindling. His demon continued to fight for release and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep it at bay.
“Who’s Scarlet?”
He turned sharply toward the bedroom door. He hadn’t heard Eve come out. She stood in a pink T-shirt and boxers, her hair tousled. He wanted to bury his hands in her hair, shove her against the wall, and fuck her so hard the building shook around them.
He jerked his head to the side, unable to answer.
“What happened to her?” She took a step closer.
“Stay…stay back, Eve. I’m not…I’m not myself.” When he looked up, her sharp indrawn breath said it all. His demon had risen to the surface and was looking at her through its soulless black eyes. It twisted and coiled around his mind. It wanted Eve, and this time there was no stopping it.
The restraint he’d been hanging on to by a thread snapped. His demon took control and forced his body to move toward her. Lazarus tried to regain control, but it was no use.
When he got to her, he would take her, and his demon wouldn’t let him be gentle.
Nausea churned in his gut and his heated skin broke out in a cold sweat. This couldn’t happen, he couldn’t allow this to happen, wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he hurt her.
Drawing on the last ounce of his strength, he forced his body to turn. His demon’s control weakened momentarily with Eve out of sight, but only for a moment. Lazarus gained enough momentum to flee the room, and pounded down the stairs to the now empty club.
A clinking sound drew his attention as he pushed into the bar. Brent was busy putting away glasses. “What’s up?” he said when he saw him.
“Take me to a room,” Lazarus choked.
Brent frowned. “What?”
“You need to restrain me. Now.”
The guy didn’t need to be told twice. Leaping over the bar, Brent rushed to one of the private rooms with Lazarus hot on his heels.
“On here. It’s more than strong enough to hold you.”
Every muscle strained as he fought to lie down on the rough wooden bench. Brent yanked Lazarus’s arms over his head and secured heavy metal shackles around his wrists. Pulling the thick chains taut so he couldn’t move them, he quickly and efficiently shackled down his legs as well, pinning him to the sturdy surface.
Now all he had to do was wait and hope like hell that this wasn’t the end.
Chapter 20
Eve stared after Lazarus, stunned. What just happened?
His face had been contorted in agony, filled with rage. She’d seen him struggling with the demon he carried within before, but nothing like this. Something was terribly wrong.
Eve ran out of the apartment after him.
At the bottom of the stairs, she pushed open the door and entered the club. The room was dimly lit, empty. No leather, no half-naked bodies writhing on the dance floor. No Lazarus.
The place was nothing without its carefully positioned downlights and pulsing music. The props used to create the dark atmosphere were gone, and all that remained was a hollow shell that smelled of stale alcohol and loneliness.
A moan had her whipping around to the left toward the private rooms. Before she could think better of it, she started toward the anguished sound.
She stopped in front of a glossy red door just as a low rumble vibrated from behind it, through it. That sound, God, it hit every nerve ending in her body, lifting goose bumps all over her skin. Her step faltered.
You can do this, Eve.
Taking a deep breath, she ignored her apprehension and pushed on, an unexplainable need to find Lazarus propelling her forward.
He needed her. Somehow she knew he needed her.
The low rumble was constant now and deep enough to shake the heavy wood. It sounded like growling, like some kind of wild animal prowled on the other side, desperate to get out.
The logical part of her brain told her to turn around, to get the hell out of there, but Lazarus was on the other side of that door and the longer she stood out here the more he suffered.
Not knowing what she might walk in on, but desperate to get to Lazarus, she ignored her anxiety, gripped the handle, and opened the door.
A roar rent the air and froze her to the spot before she’d barely taken a step. The room was small. Several wooden and iron structures filled the limited space, but the largest piece was a heavy wooden table.
That’s where she found Lazarus, or what had been Lazarus, stretched out on its hard surface.
His wrists and ankles were chained down by some kind of metal cuffs, and a thick leather strap circled his middle, restraining him further. Teeth gritted, he thrashed and snarled, fighting against his bonds.
The shredded remains of his clothes lay scattered on the floor, half covered by his large charcoal wings that had sprouted from under his back. They draped over the sides of the bench, taking up most of the floor space. The wall-mounted lights caught the tiny flecks of silver that appeared to be threaded through each of one of his sooty feathers. But most shocking of all was his body’s complete transformation. His skin was leathery and deep crimson. Horns protruded from his head, just above his hairline, and his lips were curled back, revealing large fangs that extended halfway down his chin. He looked like a gargoyle from the top of one of those gothic-style buildings.
A movement had her gaze slicing to the other side of the room. Brent stood there, his eyes locked on Lazarus.
“How? What…what’s wrong with him?” she choked out.
&nbs
p; At the sound of her voice, Lazarus stilled, his head turning on his thick neck toward her. Eve took a startled step back. His irises were huge, the whites of his eyes barely visible. Every bit of the emerald green color had been swallowed by midnight. He stared at her, eyes wide and unblinking as air hissed through his teeth in harsh, rapid exhales.
Brent grabbed her arm. “You need to leave.”
An inhuman roar tore from Lazarus’s throat. “Do not touch her.” His voice echoed around the room in an eerie way that sent shivers across her entire body. His gaze tracked Brent and did not waver until he removed his hand and moved away from her.
“I won’t touch her again.” Brent lifted his hands in the air. “See, I’m not touching her.”
Those midnight irises slid back to her and continued to stare with an intensity that was terrifying and made her feel as though he could see deep inside her. “What happened to him?”
“It’s his demon. Lazarus has succumbed.” Brent scrubbed his hands over his face. “This is all kinds of fucked up.”
Oh God. This was her fault. He’d told her what he needed from her. But she’d been so busy nursing her own wounds, working hard to punish him for hurting her, she hadn’t considered what could happen.
He hadn’t come to her when he’d needed her help, trying to protect her from any more pain, and now his demon had taken him.
Brent slid his hands into his pockets. “If we can’t bring him back”—he motioned to Lazarus’s writhing form—“this will be permanent.”
“We have to do something.” Again, at the sound of her voice, Lazarus’s thrashing ceased. She turned back as a wave of his intoxicating scent hit her, and sucked in a breath when light started flickering behind his eyes, like a light bulb about to blow. Emerald sparks trying to break through the inky black of his irises.
“Say something else,” Brent demanded.
She was frightened out of her mind, but this was Lazarus and he was suffering, so she forced herself to take a tentative step closer. “Lazarus, it’s me. I’m here,” she whispered.
Knight's Redemption (Knights of Hell Book 1) Page 19