by Kyra Quinn
Probably where I’ll end up when he’s bored with me: dead.
Arachne shoots me one last wide-eyed stare before slipping out of the bathroom and disappearing. Kane waits for her footsteps to fade down the hallway. He flashes me a predatory grin and moves closer towards the tub.
“Arm.” He assumes Arachne’s chair next to the tub. “Let’s scrub this shit off so I can bandage your brand.”
“Lucky me,” I grumble, but comply.
He scrubs the sponge in slow circular motions over my skin with a firm pressure, leaving my skin clean and red with irritation. His touch burns, and I toy with biting at his hand. If not for the pain radiating through every inch of me, I’d spring from the tub and demand he keep his hands to himself. It’s not fair to hate Kane for a murder he never committed. The small sane portion of my brain repeats this like a mantra. But the bitterness I’ve harbored against him all this time is cancerous, and not easily cured with logic. Not after dedicating the last two years of my life to slaughtering as many of his kind as possible. I told myself they were all practice for the day I avenged my mother and ended his life.
“This doesn’t change anything,” I tell him, not caring if I resemble a surly teenager. “If you want my forgiveness, earn it.”
Kane stops scrubbing. He lifts a brow, and the faintest trace of a smirk tugs at his mouth. “Oh? I just handed you proof of what happened to your mother that night. I didn’t kill Alana.”
“No, but you didn’t lift a finger to save her, either. Zeke and Michael only found her because of her connection to the Legion. You say you showed up that night to help her, but you let her bleed out alone on the floor. You’re no better than Zeke.”
“That’s not fair—”
“Isn’t it?” I demand, unable to stop myself now. It’s not like he won’t find another reason to hurt me later regardless. “Her life meant nothing to you, but I didn’t have anyone else. I needed her, and you let him take her from me forever.”
His jaw tightens. “You’re wrong. I would have done anything to save your mother, but I arrived too late.”
“Your magic—”
“Is infernal. Capable of many wondrous things, but not healing. Not even divine magic can pull a person back from death’s embrace. I’m sorry, love.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring my mother back.” I fix him with the stoniest glare I can muster. “The only way I’ll forgive you is if you help me.”
He sits back, eyes sweeping over me with skepticism. “With?”
“We both want the same thing: Zeke and Michael dead. So help me. You betrayed me in the worst way two years ago, but you have a chance to make it right. Help me get the blood and justice I’ve longed for. Help me end this pointless war and kill the bastards who took my mother from me.”
Kane says nothing for a tense moment. His face is unreadable, but I picture the wheels spinning in his head. He’s tried to beg and beat cooperation out of me. Now, I’m offering it freely to reach a mutual goal.
He sighs, lowering his gaze to the water. “My wicked side wants to promise you whatever it takes to change your opinion on Paranormals. But I can’t. It’s not that simple. Michael led the armies of Heaven for centuries. He also possesses an annoying talent for seeing the future before it happens. It’s damn near impossible to catch those two, let alone kill them.”
“How do I do it?”
“Kill the fallen angels? Good question. Dagon crafted special bullets designed to take them out, but we haven’t gotten close enough to test if they work. For now, the only surefire way to kill one is with his own blade.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do,” I say, voice hard with determination. If Kane refuses to help me, fuck him. This isn’t the first battle I’ve fought alone. Experience has taught me men are usually the problem, not the solution to anything. Even the demonic ones.
“You need rest,” he says, rising to his feet and offering his hand. “You’re not thinking straight.”
“Like hell I’m not,” I say, swatting his outstretched hand away from my face. “If you won’t help me, stay the fuck out of my way.”
Kane rolls his eyes. “Has anyone mentioned you share your mother’s flair for dramatics? Calm down. I never said I won’t help you. Only that it’s not as simple as you make it sound. Doesn’t mean I won’t try.”
He bends and lifts me out of the tub in one rough motion. I yelp as he tosses me over his shoulder. He snatches a towel from the rack and throws it on top of me.
“But you’re in no condition to fight now. Swallow your pride and let me take care of you so you’re not a liability.”
“Demons can’t heal,” I remind him.
He tosses me onto the bed. A fresh wave of pain cascades through me until I curl into a ball and groan.
“Not with magic. But I can clean and bandage a wound. The cooking stuff still eludes me, but I’m perfectly capable of ordering out somewhere for you. You don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I said I wouldn’t lie to you, and I meant it. I can’t promise you we’ll kill the angels or win this war. Only that we’re ready to die trying. We owe it to every Paranormal they’ve murdered.”
The fire in my chest cools. He sits next to me on the bed and brings a calloused hand to my cheek. For the briefest of seconds, there’s a glimmer of something I’ve never noticed before in his coal eyes. “I’ve screwed a lot of shit up in my life, but none of it’s ever bothered me as much as what happened with you. You didn’t deserve any of what happened to you, and I’m sorry for the role I played in it. I should have told you the truth about who and what I was the first day we met. Maybe then you would have believed me when I said I didn’t hurt Alana.”
Unbidden tears fill my eyes. I told him to earn my forgiveness, but not like this. I can’t handle this almost human side of him.
He wipes a tear away with his thumb and presses his lips to my forehead. My composure breaks, and the next thing I know I’m sobbing against his chest. His arms wrap around me, and he holds me against him as I crumble to pieces.
We stay frozen like that until I run out of tears. His hands gently brush my hair back from my face as he makes soothing noises. I pull back from his chest and tilt my chin until our gazes lock.
I want to hate him. He didn’t kill my mother, but he still lied. He kidnapped me, beat me, branded me, and poisoned my thoughts. But my knees still become weak each time he smiles at me. My heart still flutters every time he’s close enough for me to smell the musky cedar and sandalwood of his cologne. The closer his mouth is to my own, the more tempted I am again to find out if he tastes as sinfully sweet as my memories.
He’s a distraction I can’t afford to lose myself in right now. Not with Zeke still out there. I clear my throat and ask, “What happens if Hell wins the war?”
He blinks, surprised. “As in, what changes here on Earth? Nothing. Business will continue as usual. Hell isn’t fighting to conquer your world, pet. Lucifer loathes humanity, but he has no desire to rule over his father’s failed creation.”
“Then what does Satan want from all this?”
“What does it matter?” He cocks his head, studying me. “I can’t imagine you’ll return to the Dark Hunt when all this is over.”
I’d rather chew my arm off. “Humor me. Please?”
“Fine. Angels, even fallen ones, need little for survival. They can decimate this world and everything in it and suffer no consequences. They don’t require sunlight or nourishment or hydration. But the mortals, the witches, the shapeshifters, and even my kind? We’d all perish.”
“What are you saying?”
“Michael’s plan is to wipe out the magical community to ensure there’s no one left to oppose him. He intends to enslave the mortals to help him recreate the Earth according to his vision. If that should fail, he’ll wipe them all out and rebuild from the wreckage.”
The next part falls out of my mouth in a jumbled rush of words. “I understand you can’t promise me anything, but I need your help. Please, Kane. Neither
of us can move on with our lives until this war ends.”
He pushes to his feet. “Stay here. I’ll fetch you a robe and bandages.”
He makes it two steps before the bedroom door flies open. Kane freezes mid-stride as Dagon marches into the room with wild eyes. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, the top three buttons of his now wrinkled shirt open to reveal a splattering of scars and ink across his chest.
“We’ve got trouble.”
Kane grimaces. “What kind?”
“The infernal kind. Levi and Lilith are waiting for us in the den.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Kane
It’s never a good sign when all three Knights turn up at the door unannounced. I perch on the edge of the sofa with a glass of whiskey. The tension in the room is thicker than the humidity as we wait for someone to break the silence.
“Have you made any progress with the hunter?” Moloch asks, his fingers curled around his cane. He’s dressed in a three-piece suit worth at least ten grand, the fabric tailored to his broad shoulders and long legs. He’s a dick, but it’s hard to deny he has style. It’s probably part of what my brother likes about him so much.
Dagon shakes his head before I can respond. “She’s a lot like her mother. Strong in spirit and flesh. Breaking her will take time.”
Lilith scowls. “We’ve given you plenty of time already. How are you two struggling so much to handle one human girl? I raise hellhounds twice her size.”
I consider telling them about the little ward I spotted tattooed on the inside of her ankle, but I bite my tongue and finish my drink. They don’t need to know about her tricks, or the injections the Dark Hunt has pumped her bloodstream with. I’m surprised Nadia handled the branding as well as she did, but no one reacts well to having chunks of their flesh carved out.
“We’ve made progress with her,” I say instead, shooting Dagon a look daring him to disagree. I’ll never forgive him if he doesn’t back me up in this conversation. “She’ll betray the hunters by the end of the week.”
Moloch rubs his chin, analyzing me. “What makes you so certain?”
I hold his gaze. “I’m good at what I do. My methods may take time, but they never fail.”
More importantly, I know Nadia inside and out. What she fears, what she craves. There’s no one else alive who can do what I can to her. Nobody else knows how to break her just enough to rebuild her into something useful.
“Her loyalty to Zeke and the hunters is already dissolving,” Dagon agrees. “It won’t take long before we’ve won her over to our side.”
Lilith scoffs, smoothing the skirt of her knee-length black dress. She’s pinned her inky hair to the top of her head, giving her the air of an evil headmistress. “I don’t care where her loyalties lie. Split her little head open and dig the secrets out if you must.”
Moloch raises a hand to silence her. His eyes narrow, his gaze intense. “And what value is there in winning her over? What do you propose we do with her?”
“Use her,” Dagon says with a casual shrug. “Perhaps not in battle, but she spent two years in the company of our enemies. I’m sure she’s filled with useful insights on how to take them out.”
Levi shakes his head. “We can’t trust her. She’s spent too much time under Michael’s thumb. She’s poisoned.”
I refuse to consider the possibility that Levi might have a point. The Knights know nothing about Nadia. They don’t realize Zeke isn’t the only one with a hold over her.
“Bring the girl here,” Moloch commands, leaning against the back of the armchair with a frown. “Perhaps we can motivate her to open up to us more.”
“We have it under control—”
“That,” Moloch says, his voice deepening into a boom, “was not a request.”
Out of options, Dagon rises to his feet and disappears. I’m tempted to follow him upstairs, but Lilith turns to me and reaches over, snaking her bony fingers around my wrist.
“You’re off your game, Kane. The demon I watched torture countless souls in Hell wouldn’t allow some hunter girl to wrap him around her finger. She’s what, twenty? Twenty-one? How long do you think she can hold your attention? Maybe you aren’t ready to take your brother’s place in the Legion.”
My lip curls. “You’re wrong. You asked me to figure out what the girl knows, and that’s what I’m doing. Not every target responds to the same methods.”
“He’s right,” Moloch says. He’s speaking to Lilith, but his eyes remain on me. “Nadia is the daughter of a pastor. She’s used to rebelling against a controlling hand. It’s probably why the danger of the Dark Hunt appealed to her. Let him use whatever manipulation she responds best to.”
Levi shakes his head. “With all due respect, brother, we don’t have months to tease the information out of her. There’s a time and place for experimentation, but the middle of a war is neither. We should stick to what we know gets results and torture the information from her.”
“I’ve learned a thing or two from my time with the vampires and witches.” I reach for the bottle of whisky on the edge of the coffee table between us and refill my glass. “Mortals are stupid, complicated creatures who often decide with their emotions. If you control their emotions, you control their actions.”
“Maybe the girl inherited a bit of magic after all. She certainly put a spell on you.” Lilith gives me a frosty smile. “Or, perhaps we’ve kept you topside for too long. A few decades back in Hell might fix whatever she’s done to you.”
I start to fire back, but Dagon and Nadia appear in the doorway. He leads her into the room by the collar and leash, Nadia on her hands and knees a few feet behind him. We all fall silent as we wait for Dagon to resume his spot next to me.
Nadia kneels on the floor in front of our feet, pressing her forehead to the floor and outstretching her arms in front of her in some weird yoga move. She’s dressed in only the bandage I wrapped her shoulder in and a pair of black heels with a deadly point. My mouth waters as I trace the curve of her spine and ass with my eyes.
“What happened there?” Levi asks, gesturing to the gauze pad taped to her shoulder.
I give him my coldest smile. “Discipline. A lesson she’ll remember for the rest of her short mortal life.”
“And yet, not enough to motivate her to tell us anything useful.” Lilith shakes her head. “You’re not trying hard enough.”
Levi springs from the couch. He crouches next to Nadia and grabs a fistful of her coppery locks, yanking her head up to face him.
“Enough with the games. Where does Michael hide his weapons?” he snarls.
Nadia shakes her head. “I-I don’t know. No one does. We never stay in one place long enough to store anything.”
My hands curl into fists, but I force myself to sit back and bite my tongue. If I tell Levi to back down, I only add more fuel to Lilith’s fire.
Levi lifts her from the ground by her hair. He wraps a hand around her neck until her face turns red. “Don’t toy with me, child. I can kill you in a thousand unique ways without lifting a finger.”
“Do it.” Her voice is weak as she gasps for air. “I still won’t know what or where it is.”
“Enough.” Damn it all to Heaven. Let Lilith think whatever she wants. I rise to my feet. “If you kill her, all the work Dagon and I have put in so far will amount to nothing. We said we’d handle it, and we will.”
Levi’s face darkens, but he drops Nadia to the ground. “Fine. You punish this insolence.”
Nadia glances up at me with wide, wild eyes. Begging me to help her. But there’s not much I can do for her without damning myself. If the Knights give an order, the Legion obeys.
I snap twice until one of my favorite toys, an electro flogger designed to deliver a shock with every sting, appears in my hand. Casting a pitying glance in her direction, I order her to kneel in front of the couch and lean the top half of her body on the cushion. She obeys, digging her nails into the sofa before I deliver the first hi
t.
With all eyes on us, I straighten my spine and ask, “Do you understand why I’m punishing you, pet?”
Not that I fully understand myself. But Nadia mutters a tiny, “Yes, sir.”
“Ten lashes, and I want you to count each one.”
“That’s it?” Lilith raises a brow. “She disrespects a Knight of Hell and walks away with ten piddly lashes from a sex toy?”
I gesture towards the old wounds on Nadia’s back. “She can’t handle much more than that in her condition. But I can starve her for an extra day or two if it pleases you.”
Lilith sighs. “Fine but hurry it up. We have business waiting for us in Hell.”
I snap my wrist. The flogger gives a sharp crack. Tiny sparks dance along the ends as it connects with Nadia’s skin. She yelps and twists away, but I don’t stop. The flogger strikes her back, hips, and thighs. She counts the blows, her voice rising in pitch with every hit.
“Not bad,” Levi says after the last blow. Nadia trembles against the couch, her hair splayed around her head in unruly waves. “It seems you’ve made progress with her training, at least.”
Lilith’s lips curl into a chilling smile. “Perhaps we can find a place for her in Havana when we’re finished with her. She’s no succubus, but she’d fetch a decent price for a few years.”
Fury spreads through me like the flames of a fire. Fortunately, Dagon speaks before I unclench my jaw.
“Why send her all the way to Cuba when she can make us far more money here?”
Moloch chuckles, the sound unnerving. “Do you plan to lead an escort service or a war, Dagon? Is your plate not full enough?”
“Why not both?” He flashes a confident grin. “Everyone knows the business of war can become tedious. Perhaps I’d like to keep a fun brief distraction around on the side.”
Levi shakes his head. “If we invite you to join our ranks, you won’t have time for anything else. War doesn’t take time off.”
“Besides,” Lilith adds, “I don’t think it’s wise to keep her around your brother any longer than necessary.”