Knight's Salvation (Knights of Hell Book 2)

by Sherilee Gray

  Zenon growled, rage and hatred oozing from every pore, and before Chaos could do a damn thing to stop him, Zenon strode to the steel door and kicked it clean off its hinges.

  “Fuck.” Chaos went in after him.

  Zenon had straddled the flailing demon, pinned him to the ground by his throat, and it looked as though he had every intention of squeezing the life out of him.

  “You know, Zen, you could have just used the fucking door handle,” Rocco said behind them.

  Kryos approached Zenon from the side but didn’t touch him. They all knew better than to do that. “Zen, man. Let him go. We need to question him. We can’t do that if you crush his windpipe.”

  Instead of letting him go, Zenon went nose to nose with the guy. His demon had joined the party, and his voice when he spoke had taken on a malevolence Chaos had never heard before. And that was saying a fuck of a lot seeing how unstable he could be at the best of times. “I’m going to send you back to Hell, and not the easy way. When you get there, you tell Diemos he can’t have her.” Zenon lifted the demon off the floor, using his throat as a handle, and slammed him into the unforgiving concrete. “Do you hear me?”

  Rocco shook his head. “I doubt it. It’s kind of hard to hear when blood’s leaking from your ears.”

  “Back the fuck up, Zenon,” Chaos growled.

  Thud!

  “Stand down,” he roared.

  Thud!

  The demon’s head would be mush if he didn’t do something. Chaos moved in and Rocco and Gunner moved with him. Zenon didn’t like anyone in his space, unless they were sparring and he was doing his damnedest to take them down. This could go tits up if he went full-on demon massacre on them. “Now.”

  All three jumped him, tearing Zenon off the now unconscious demon. Chaos shoved his arm into the other male’s throat and pushed. Fuck. Nothing happened. He didn’t even take a step back; the guy was rock solid. “Zenon, pull your shit together now.” Chaos got in Zenon’s face, knew he was pushing it with this particular knight, but didn’t give a fuck. They needed information and if the demon died they were screwed. But Zenon was focused on the demon’s unconscious body, fangs extended like he wanted nothing more than to rip the little fucker’s throat out. “I can’t deal with your shit. Get the fuck out of my interrogation room.”

  Zenon’s eyes shifted to him and Chaos shoved again. “Get the fuck gone.”

  With one last look at the demon, Zenon stormed from the room.

  Zenon got out of there. Kept going and didn’t look back. He was losing his goddamned mind.

  If he thought about that demon getting anywhere near Mia, he’d turn around and rip the bastard’s throat out. Adrenaline throbbed through his veins, making him twitch. He needed some kind of release but his options were limited. He couldn’t fuck. His only option was to fight.

  The gym wouldn’t cut it. And he didn’t want to risk running into Mia again. If he saw her now, he’d do or say shit he could never take back, and that female needed to stay as far from him as she could manage.

  So he headed for his room to weapon up. The doors slid open and he strode down the hall, but as he rounded the corner to his apartment he was forced to slam on the brakes.

  Sitting on the floor, her back pressed against his door, was Mia, the last person he needed to see right then. Mia glanced up, spotting him before he could turn and walk the other way.

  Zenon’s heart picked up speed, pounded behind his ribs, and his demon stirred in a restless, unfamiliar way. She’d showered and changed, her long red hair loose and damp, curling at the ends. She wore jeans and a fitted pink T-shirt with some cartoon cat on the front. Her beautiful face lit up when she saw him.

  His lower belly tightened and sent tingles shooting to his balls. “What are you doing here?”

  She flinched at his harsh tone. “I was lonely. I thought you might keep me company?”

  Did she have any idea how much he wanted that? How much he wanted to just spend time with her, listen to her talk, learn everything about her. Take her to his bed, savor her body, touch her skin, her hair—fuck her hard, then take her slow and easy. He’d hold her in his arms and watch her sleep. Feed her. Take care of her.

  Jesus fucking Christ. Where had that come from? What the fuck was wrong with him?

  He dipped his chin, couldn’t look at her. “Why the fuck would you think that?”

  Silence. “I just thought after this afternoon that…” Her voice shook, and though it killed him, and every instinct he had told him to worship her—protect her—he ignored it. That wasn’t an option. And in the end, would only put her in danger.

  He was a piece of trash, tainted, filthy, didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her. Why couldn’t she see that as well?

  What he was about to do was for her own good.

  In two strides, he was in front of her. He wrapped a hand loosely around the base of her throat, her soft, warm pulse thudding against his palm, and backed her against the wall. His heightened awareness of her just pissed him off more, bewildered him. He let his frustration show. He sneered and gave her a slow hateful once-over. “This afternoon you were lucky I didn’t do far worse.”

  Her eyes were wide, but she shook her head. “You wouldn’t…you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  Was she serious? He had her pinned to his door. He could crush her delicate throat in less than a second. Mia thought there was good in him, but there was nothing but rage and hate. “One conversation and you think you have me figured out? You know nothing about me. I’m from Hell, Mia. I’ve done things that would give you nightmares.”

  “I don’t care,” she whispered.

  His chest squeezed painfully, and the foreign emotion welling up inside him sent a surge of fury through him. He couldn’t deal with it, couldn’t process it. His heart hammered so hard he was surprised she didn’t hear it. Didn’t she know how much danger she was in? “Do you have any idea what someone like me needs, demi?”

  She shook her head. The pulse in her neck was fluttering wildly. Good. He needed her to fear him. He let his gaze drift over her curves again then up to her wide-eyed gaze. “Exactly. Now leave.”

  Her entire body stiffened and her face twisted. “Why are you acting like this?”

  “Like what?”

  “Cruel.” She gripped his wrist and tried to pull his hand from around her throat.

  He didn’t budge, not yet. He had to make sure she left him alone.

  This pull, whatever it was he felt toward her, was too strong. He couldn’t resist it, couldn’t stay away from her, not on his own. He needed her to be the one to do it. She needed to understand that nothing could ever be between them, not friendship…not anything else.

  She needed to hate him.

  “You don’t know what cruel is,” he rasped.

  She straightened her shoulders. “I know you’re trying to protect yourself…but you…you don’t have to with me.” She drew in a deep breath. “And I thought that perhaps…that we could spend some time together, that we could be—”

  He got in her face, cut her off, didn’t want to hear what she was about to say. Couldn’t. Her scent surrounded him and he realized like a shot to the gut that Mia wanted him, despite the things he’d said, the way he’d treated her. And if he didn’t get rid of her soon, he’d lose his fucking mind.

  Why did she have to come here? Why was she doing this?

  Why would she want…him?

  Pain began to radiate from the back of his skull, shooting down his spine. He needed to get into his room. In a matter of minutes he’d be paralyzed in agony.

  He moved in closer, and goddamn, did it cost him. He didn’t like being close to others, but with Mia he realized it was different. So different. Nothing made sense.

  Her soft curves pressed into him, but despite the way his pulse raced and his stomach clenched, it wasn’t hard to feign indifference. “There is nothing you have that I want,” he said and ground his lifeless cock against her. She sucked
in a breath, humiliation slashing across her cheeks.

  She blinked and tears tracked down her cheeks. “You don’t need to say any more. You’ve made your point.”

  When she shoved against him this time, he let her go. And without looking at him again, she pushed past and ran down the hall.

  Zenon didn’t have time to regret his words, and shoved his key card in the door. He stumbled into his apartment and managed to slam it shut after him before his legs gave out and he hit the floor.

  No one could ever know his weakness, what he was. Not his brothers and especially not Mia.

  But dammit, as he lay there, paralyzed, lost to the agony, the only thing that stopped him from being sucked under completely was Mia.

  Chapter 6

  Zenon rolled to his back and scrubbed his palms over his face. He’d slept like shit.

  He’d gone to sleep again thinking of Mia, and he’d dreamed of her through the night. The feel of her hand on his abs, the way her body felt in his arms as he’d carried her to her room—the press of her soft, warm lips against his bicep.

  But he’d woken like every other morning, dick soft and useless against his thigh. He couldn’t fuck the woman he wanted, couldn’t even jack off. Even if he wanted to risk it all, take Mia for himself—which he could admit to himself he did, so damn much it hurt—he couldn’t have her. Not ever, and not just because he was a disgusting, tainted waste of space. He couldn’t give her what a man should, what he should be able to give his woman.

  Mia had been busy with her training the last two weeks, and Zenon had managed to avoid her, besides the odd glance when he couldn’t take it another minute without seeing her. His demon was as frustrated as he was. His constant yearning for that female was pushing him over the edge. Made no damn sense.

  The others had noticed the difference in him. And not just because he’d tried to make bolognese out of that demon’s head in the interrogation room. But shit, just the thought of that sadistic bastard Diemos getting anywhere near Mia, of even knowing of her existence had released something deep inside him. Zenon would have killed him, would have torn his head off with his bare hands if the others hadn’t pulled him off.

  Then Mia had been waiting for him at his door. She’d wanted him. He’d smelled her desire for him. For him.

  He’d never wanted to be like Kryos or Lazarus, not until he’d discovered Mia’s existence. She had looked at him for a response, a sign he might feel the same for her, and even the scent of her sweet arousal hadn’t caused even a twitch from the useless organ hanging between his legs.

  His hand rested on his stomach and he let his fingers trail to his flaccid cock, gripped it in his fist, and squeezed. Nothing.

  What was he doing?

  None of it mattered. He couldn’t have her. He’d pushed her away, to protect her, to protect himself.

  And he’d hurt her.

  Was still hurting her. It was there in the way she held her body, in the humiliation that colored her cheeks when she saw him.

  And he’d never hated himself more.

  Shoving back the sheet, he got out of bed. As soon as his feet hit carpet, pain shot from the base of his skull and burned a path through his chest and stomach, blazing acid-like needles down his arms to the tips of his fingers, down his thighs and calves. His knees gave out and he crumpled to the ground, hissing in agony.

  Not again. Not now. Please not fucking now. He wasn’t ready for this. Not yet. He’d been weakening steadily over the last week but thought he had more time. Zenon curled into a ball and tried to stop from crying out as the sensation of flesh being torn from bone washed over him repeatedly.

  He didn’t know how long he lay there before the pain began to subside. He’d have to go tonight. Bile churned in his gut, burned a path to the back of his throat.

  Still on the ground, he reached up for the phone on the bedside table and sent a text to Silas.

  Need to make a house call.

  As always, the angel would make sure he had an excuse to be away from the compound for a day or two. He replied almost immediately.

  I’ll make the arrangements.

  He tried to stand but his legs felt like Jell-O, and he was forced to drag himself to the bathroom. Using the wall for support, he pulled himself up and turned on the shower as hot as it would go then climbed in. The heat burned his skin, seeped into his flesh, warming him to the bone, softening his seized muscles. He hated being so damn weak.

  Stiff and sore, but mobile, Zenon dressed as quickly as he could and headed to the control room. It was either that or go to the holding cells and finish off every last demon they had down there.

  They weren’t going to talk. A death delivered by any one of the knights would be a hell of a lot better than the slow, sadistic torture Diemos would subject them to for days before finally putting them out of their misery if they talked. He’d experienced Diemos’s special brand of attention himself a time or two, and only knew of one person who deserved that kind of punishment…

  He slammed the door on those thoughts.

  Zenon wanted the demons dead, wanted the threat to Mia out of this compound, especially since he’d be gone for a couple of days. But he knew Chaos wouldn’t allow it, and right then he didn’t have the strength to go head to head with the other knight.

  When he walked into the control room, Gunner and Rocco were already there. They lifted their chins in welcome. Chaos turned and did the same.

  Zenon gritted his teeth. “Give me something to do. I need to kill something.”

  Chaos raised a brow at his barked order. “You’re gonna have to take your aggression out in the gym. Only job for today is delivering Mia to her new place. Gun and Roc get that one.”

  Chaos’s words hammered around his skull. Everything in him rebelled at the idea of her leaving. “Mia’s going?”

  Rocco grinned. “It’s a nice place. One of ours, and close enough we can keep an eye on her.”

  “And why would you want to do that?” He heard the menace in his voice but had no control over it.

  Rocco frowned. “Do we have a problem here, Zenon?”

  “I don’t know. Do we?”

  Chaos moved in between them. “Is there something going on between you and Mia?” And, yeah, the guy looked confused as fuck about that notion, like the idea was so foreign as to be ridiculous.

  He clenched his fists and shook his head.

  The knight frowned. “Fuck’s sake, Zenon. Do you have to start shit all the time? What’s crawled up your ass?”

  Zen shrugged.

  “We’re just trying to look out for her. She hasn’t reached her full potential yet. She’s capable of a lot more. James hasn’t been able to work out what her trigger is. I think her leaving is a stupid idea, but he’s assured me she’s safe. She can block what she’s got going on at the moment and she’s agreed to come in for regular training sessions. I could force her to stay, which is what I want to do, but James thinks that will only make it worse. She’s unhappy here, she wants to leave, so we’ll let her, but we’ll keep an eye on her.”

  She wanted to leave. She was unhappy. That knowledge was like a smack to the back of the head. Confirmed what shouldn’t be a big surprise. This whacked-out need he had, pulling him toward Mia like a supercharged magnet attached to his chest, was one-sided. He didn’t know why it hurt like a motherfucker, but it did. Fuck it, he was used to pain. At least this way he wouldn’t have to see her every day.

  “Fuck knows how we didn’t sense her right off the bat, because despite her sister’s help, she had a lot of work to do with her blocking,” Chaos added.

  No, the training her sister had given her hadn’t been enough. He didn’t know what the fuck Chaos was talking about. He’d sensed her loud and clear. “I did,” Zen said.

  Chaos stilled. “You what?”

  “Sensed her.”

  The males in the room went silent, the creak of leather and the shuffle of boots the only sounds as they all turned to
face him.

  “You sensed her?” Chaos said, breaking the unsettling silence.

  “Yeah.” Jesus. Now what had he done wrong? Was this another demon thing? Another difference because he was hell born? He dipped his head, sick of seeing the weirded-out expressions on their faces. He hated whenever this kind of shit came up. Like he needed another reminder that he was different.

  “Do you know what that means?” Kryos asked, almost gently.

  He didn’t want to listen to this, have his differences laid out in front of him, have them point out again what a fucking freak of nature he was. “I have somewhere I need to be.” He turned to go, but Kryos grabbed his arm. Zenon hissed and spun to face him. “I said I’m done.”

  He got as far as the door when Kryos stopped him in his tracks with a few simple words. Words that, when strung together, had the potential to tip his warped little world on its ass. The guy sounded as freaked saying them as Zenon did hearing them.

  “I think Mia’s your mate, Zenon. I think you’ve found your female.”

  Just like that his legs were back to Jell-O, and he grabbed onto the nearest desk to stop his ass from hitting the floor. “No. That can’t be.” He didn’t recognize his own voice, pitched high, shaky.

  He felt someone move closer, but they didn’t touch him. Chaos. “Zen, none of us felt her. You did.”

  “So?” Could he get out of here before he passed out like a pussy?

  “You must know. Kryos, Laz, when they—”

  “In case you missed it, I don’t sit around shooting the shit, discussing your goddamn love lives.” No, Zenon rarely mixed with the others unless he had to, and he sure as hell didn’t know the ins and outs of knight/demi-demon courtship. He’d never stuck around long enough to learn. Never thought he’d need to know.

  This couldn’t be. Mia, his mate? The very idea had his heart beating like a jackhammer, and another wave of—fuck, he didn’t know what it was, couldn’t name it, but it kept nailing him in the chest until he was close to hyperventilating.