Bloodstains and Bitemarks

by Kyra Quinn

  He fixes his gaze out at the ocean. “She’s a mortal, Kane. No matter how amusing you may find her today, your interests will fade. We can find you a new plaything to take out your frustrations on after she’s gone. Don’t lose focus now. Not when we’re this close to victory.”

  He’s right, but I scoff anyway. Mortals have short life expectancies under even the best of circumstances. Only an idiot would throw away Dagon’s chance at eternal power for a short-term fling with a human girl. If we hold on to Nadia against Lilith’s orders, she’ll strip us both of our titles and toss us back into the pits of Hell once she discovers our deception.

  Dagon throws back the rest of his drink. “Did you notice anything strange about the way Lilith looked at her?”

  I hardly noticed Lilith at all. Most of my focus remained glued to Nadia in that little black dress. I’ve always found her attractive, even with makeup smeared across her face or blood and bruises decorating her flesh. But seeing her in that dress and heels filled my head with images perverse enough to make even my face heat.

  I take another hit and shrug. “What about it? Arachne did her job well.”

  “Yes, but that isn’t what I mean. We could have marched her out naked and I don’t think it would have changed anything. Lilith’s eyes stayed on the girl’s face the entire time.”

  “Meaning?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know. But there’s more to this than she’s told us.”

  I rub my jaw, turning the fresh information over in my mind. None of it makes sense. Moloch himself appointed Dagon to the lead General position, the highest rank a demon can ascend to without formally joining the Knights or slaying Lucifer and conquering Hell for himself. They trust Dagon, even if they still have their reservations about me. Time and experience has proven us two of Hell’s best soldiers.

  So why would Lilith lie to us about her true intentions with Nadia?

  I fix my eyes on the crescent moon. “Do we continue to play along until we figure out what she’s after?”

  “That’s one option, but it’s not my favorite. Doesn’t Thalia still owe us a favor?”

  Not anymore. “Our men interrogated most of the coven searching for Hollie after she left. I don’t imagine the witches will want to help us.”

  The mention of Hollie’s name causes Dagon’s body to visibly tense. “Persuade them. I’m sure there’s a witch or two left in Miami you haven’t pissed off yet.”

  I snort. “Don’t bet on that. I’ll put Arachne on it. See if she can dig anyone up.”

  We fall into a comfortable silence. We both know the witches are unlikely to uncover anything helpful. Nadia’s mother severed her ties with the coven over two decades ago, never introducing her daughter to her sisters in darkness. They’re unlikely to recognize her at all, let alone know what Lilith wants from her.

  “Maybe we should leave it alone,” Dagon says, extinguishing his roach in the glass ashtray on the ground between our chairs. “Lilith won’t react well if she finds out we’re questioning her orders. My promotion to the Knights will unlock all their secrets for us if we’re patient.”

  But Dagon’s promotion won’t happen until after Nadia is dead. “It doesn’t hurt to ask questions, but I’ll be discreet. The covens don’t worship Lilith anymore. Most of the witches I know don’t trust her any more than I do.”

  His eyes narrow. “Careful, brother. We swore our eternal loyalty to the Knights and Lucifer. Even if we disagree with Lilith or her orders, we vowed to obey.”

  I rise from my chair and head towards the door. There’s no point in arguing with Dagon. He’s too afraid of risking his position with the Knights. I can’t trust him not to tell them whatever I discover about Nadia and Lilith’s true intentions with her.

  “We can talk about it more tomorrow,” I say, sliding the patio door open. “Let’s film the video from the attic. The red walls set the mood a little better. I’ll set everything up if you’ll fetch the prisoner.”

  Without waiting for him to agree, I step into his bedroom and slide the door closed behind me. The sooner we finish with this nonsense, the sooner I can sink my claws into figuring Nadia out.

  * * *

  The camera is all set up within fifteen minutes. Dagon marches Nadia up the stairs and into the room by a fistful of her hair. The tip of a small knife kisses the side of her neck. Her face is pale, but her eyes burn with unbridled hatred. Her body is exposed once more, and it’s difficult to restrain the darkness swelling in my chest at the sight of Dagon’s hands on her bare skin.

  He shoves her onto the ground before I can say anything. Watching her collapse onto her hands and knees with a satisfied smirk, he flips the knife closed and buries it in his pocket. “We had a friendly chat on the way up, didn’t we? She’s promised to behave herself.”

  I try to catch Nadia’s eyes, but she pointedly avoids looking in my direction. She pushes herself up to sit and glares at Dagon, her tone icy. “What is it you need me to do?”

  It’s difficult to keep my expression blank, but I can’t allow my surprise to show. Something about her sudden compliance doesn’t sit well with me. I must figure out what Dagon said to her in the hallway.

  “Nothing complicated,” he says conversationally, ignoring the malice in her stare. “Look straight into the camera and cry. Tell Michael and Zeke what horrible monsters we are. Show them how we’ve beaten and abused you. Beg them to do whatever it takes to rescue you.”

  “Why?” she demands, tilting her chin in defiance. “What makes you think they’ll negotiate with you? Your brother already told me how little I mean to them. They won’t violate their own code just to save me.”

  “Probably not,” Dagon agrees, “but orders are orders. Remember what I said to you in the hallway, little fox. Your survival depends on your ability to play ball.”

  I arch a brow but say nothing, unwilling to question Dagon’s strategy in front of the prisoner. It’s needlessly cruel to manipulate Nadia into thinking we might let her live, but no one has ever described Dagon as kind. His ruthlessness is one reason the Knights took such a liking to him.

  “Fine,” Nadia growls through clenched teeth. “I’ll try. But I can’t just force myself to cry because you order me to. I’m a hunter, not an actress.”

  He smirks. “I get the feeling you’re a bit of both. But if you need inspiration, Kane and I can always work you over again until the tears fall.”

  Her nostrils flare. “I’m sure I can figure it out on my own.”

  “I thought as much.” Dagon turns his attention to me. “Is the camera ready?”

  I confirm it is with a curt nod, and we each take our places. Dagon and I stand behind the tripod holding the digital camcorder. Nadia kneels on the ground in front of her old mattress with her arms wrapped over her chest. Her cheeks flush as she squirms and tries to cover as much of herself as possible, modesty somehow outweighing her survival instincts. It’s hard not to roll my eyes. I’ve never understood why humans put so much emphasis on humility when they all look alike undressed.

  “Okay, cue the waterworks,” Dagon says, twirling his index finger in a circle next to his head.

  She fixes him with a piercing glare. “Working on it.”

  “Work faster. I’d rather not waste all night on this.”

  I consider speaking out to defend Nadia but settle on trying to speed things along. The sooner she does what Dagon wants, the sooner I can have her to myself again. I reach into my waistband and retrieve the leather riding crop I tucked away before the Knights’ arrival.

  “Need me to incentivize you?”

  She finally lifts her eyes to lock on mine, and I can’t decide if I’m aroused or intimidated by the sheer amount of contempt in her expression. When she speaks, the words sound as if they’re being pulled from her throat. “Thank you, but I’ve got it.”

  She sucks in a deep breath, her ribcage expanding and deflating as she exhales through her nose. Her eyes fix on a spot on the wall behin
d us with intense focus. A tense silence takes over the room as we wait for Nadia to play her part.

  I have half a mind to strike her, anyway. Teach her a lesson about popping off at the mouth in front of Dagon. But instinct tells me to put the crop away and let the girl work her magic. She might refuse to cooperate just to spite us if I push her too far. But I can’t deny how satisfying it would be to see the welts swell on the backs of her thighs.

  “Nice work,” Dagon murmurs next to me with approval.

  Tears swell in Nadia’s silvery eyes, dripping down her cheeks like drops of rain. It’s not a full-on ugly crying we’d hoped for, but it’s better than I expected from Nadia. It must be difficult to summon sorrow when you’ve spent so much of your life burying it inside and denying its existence.

  “We good to go?” he whispers to me.

  I verify the camera is recording and nod. “Whenever our star is ready.”

  I expect her to curse at me again, but she doesn’t. Nadia fixes her eyes on the camera and wipes at her tears. Her lips tremble as she chokes, “Please, help me. The demon in the park was a trap. The Knights of Hell have taken me hostage. They’ve beaten, starved, and tortured me, but I haven’t told them anything. Yet.”

  She pauses for effect, dropping her gaze to her lap as she sniffles. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold out. They won’t kill me until they’ve forced every secret about the Dark Hunt out of me. Please, I don’t want to tell them anything that might help them win this war. Help me. I don’t care if you rescue me or kill me. Just make this stop.”

  She buries her face in her hands and lets out an anguished wail. Her body trembles as she sobs, and I hate how my chest tightens as I watch her. She’s playing the part we threatened her into, and her performance is spectacular. Yet for the first time, her tears bring me no enjoyment.

  Dagon leans forward and switches the camera off. “Nicely done, Miss Gray. It’s refreshing to see your talents don’t end with murder.”

  I wait for her to tell him to fuck himself, but she doesn’t lift her head. She folds herself in half and presses her forehead to the ground, her sorrow seemingly endless.

  “What now?” Dagon asks, lifting a brow towards Nadia.

  I step closer and crouch next to her. Pushing her hair back, I lean close and whisper, “What a pity. You’re as weak and pathetic as you look.”

  As expected, the shot to her pride is enough to provoke Nadia into action. She throws herself at me, her hands aimed for my throat as she snarls. Her body crashes against my chest, followed by tiny fists slamming against me like pebbles. Her bloodshot eyes sparkle with madness as she attacks me with everything she has.

  “Want me to stop her?” Dagon asks, squinting as if he’s not sure what he’s watching.

  “Let her blow off some steam. She’s already earned the punishment either way.”

  Nadia swings at me with everything she has. Which isn’t much, given the way we’ve kept her bound without food or water. Her feeble blows almost tickle. She tires herself out after less than a minute, collapsing to her knees at my feet.

  I reach over and rub the top of her head. “Better?”

  “I will kill you,” she vows between pants for air. “All of you.”

  I wink. “That’s the spirit. Come. Let’s take you back to your chambers and discuss how to punish your latest transgression.”

  “I don’t fucking think so.”

  She’s back on her feet faster than I would have imagined possible, especially in her weakened state. Within seconds she stands inches from my face. An energy I can’t place pulses from her, strong enough to force me to take a step back. Her eyes are gone, replaced by two empty white orbs.

  “Nadia—”

  She hisses, sounding more animal than girl. She opens her mouth to speak, but the voice that follows doesn’t belong to the mouthy hunter. “Foooools. Who are you to toy with the balance of the universe?”

  “Who the fuck—”

  I don’t have time to finish the question. Nadia’s body falls limp against the floor with a soft thud. I rush over to her body and drop to my knees next to her. Dagon is right behind me, standing a few feet to my left. “What the hell was that?”

  “How the fuck should I know?” I snap. “You’re the one who dated a witch.”

  I regret the words the moment they cross my lips, but it’s too late to take them back. Dagon’s features tighten, but he nods. Nadia’s mother is the only explanation for whatever magic trick she just pulled. She must have some trace of her mother’s talents. The worst part is, I’m not sure if it’s sexy or terrifying.

  “What now?” Dagon grumbles, eying her with obvious suspicion.

  “Help me get her up,” I say. “I’ll take her back to her room.”

  I reach for her arm, but her eyes snap open the moment my skin touches hers. Her eyes. The tension in my body eases a little as her cold, steely eyes glare daggers my direction.

  “What are you doing?” she demands.

  “Helping you up,” Dagon answers for me, his voice almost chipper. “It’s time to put the pet back in her cage for now. We’ll come fetch you when it’s punishment time.”

  Her lip curls over her teeth. “The only thing I’ve done wrong is help you film that video. If you touch a hair on any hunter’s head, I’ll use my last breath to steal yours.”

  Dagon barks a laugh. “Even we don’t know why the Knights wanted that video. But if the hunter’s code is as strict as you say, what’s it matter? Your friends won’t come. This little home movie will find its way into the trash. The only death you need to worry about is your own.”

  Neither one of us mentions the truth. If Michael or Zeke discover Nadia is anything but human, the Dark Hunt will sniff her out and kill her with no help from us. If our suspicions prove correct, the angels are no friends of hers.

  Nadia’s face pales. I wrap my arms around her and pull her to her feet. She leans against me for a moment before seeming to think better of it and shoving me away. “Keep your fucking hands off me.”

  A smirk tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Not a chance, pet. Now will you walk on your own, or should I carry you?”

  She jerks her chin away from me and stomps towards the door with as much force as her curvy little legs can muster. “Don’t fucking touch me. Ever.”

  I can’t stop the smile tugging at the corners of my lips. Every time she rejects me, the resolve in her voice weakens a little more. I’m not the only one weak to the chemistry between us. She’s not ready to admit it yet, but Nadia knows who she belongs to. Who she’s always belonged to. After I’m finished with her, she’ll beg to kneel at my feet.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Nadia

  It’s hard to tell how long I’m alone once Kane locks me in again. He leaves my wrists and feet unbound, confident there’s nowhere I can go without his permission. I stand in front of the window with my fingers curled around the cool iron bars and imagine striking the glass until it shatters and falls away. But the bars sit too close together for even a child to squeeze through, let alone my hips or head. I am Kane’s prisoner until I kill him and escape. The only way out of this is to finish the job.

  Kane’s promise of punishment hangs over my head like a noose. The wounds his whip carved into my flesh still sting every time I move. For all my training with the hunt, my body is still only human. Weak. Susceptible to crumbling under the weight of his abuse.

  My stomach twists. The pangs of hunger become nausea as the acid in my stomach churns. How long can the human body survive without food? I read somewhere online that humans die from dehydration faster than starvation. Does that apply to people living in Florida, where the air is humid enough to drown on dry land?

  I suck in a breath, pressing my forehead against the bars and letting my eyes drift shut. If I want a shot at killing Kane—and his arrogant ass of a brother at this point—I can’t keep losing my temper. The only way to survive this is to up my game. He needs to believe I’
m smitten enough with him to do anything, that I’d walk barefoot through the flames of Hell for five minutes in his presence. I need to let him think he’s broken me.

  But it’s so damn difficult when he gives me that smug smirk. If I bite my tongue any harder around him, I’ll bite a hole straight through. It doesn’t seem to matter how well I behave, anyway. Kane finds reasons to punish me regardless.

  My grip around the bars on the window tighten until my fingers ache. I won’t let him get the better of me. Kane can think he’s running the show for now. I’ll swallow my pride enough to cry at his feet if that’s what it takes to bury a blade in his windpipe. Let him underestimate me. I’ll make sure it’s the last mistake he ever makes.

  I’ve spent the last two years of my life preparing for this opportunity. Every kill was target practice for the one ahead of me. Jade taught me everything I need to know to see this through. I’ll let him fuck me if it lowers his guard enough for me to go in for the kill. I might die here, but not without taking Kane out with me.

  Sleeping with Kane doesn’t repulse me as much as I’d expected. His smoldering gaze and forceful grip don’t hurt. There is something deeply broken inside of me to lust after the person I hate the most in this world. He destroyed every enjoyable thing in my life. He stole my ability to trust or love, my dreams of the future, and my mother. It’s a betrayal to imagine him as anything but the monster he is.

  When I’m too tired to stand any longer, I shuffle over to the bed and throw myself on the plush mattress. My eyes fall on the open bathroom door, the porcelain tub where Kane scrubbed the blood and dirt from my skin. I push the memory away, but his words still ring in my head.

  “I am not the one who murdered your mother, nor am I the one who recruited you to join the Dark Hunt. There’s a far more deserving target for your rage.”

  Of all the lies I’m sure Kane has told me, this one eats away at my feeble grip on sanity the most. I surrendered my life to the hunt to catch my mother’s murderer. To kill Kane and every other monster like him. I can’t allow myself to question if the actual monster was right in front of me for the last two years.