Knight's Absolution (Knights of Hell Book 5)

by Sherilee Gray

  “Who is that?” he asked as his brothers stepped back, letting him through.

  “My mate.” Gunner stared down at her to reassure himself he wasn’t dreaming, then back at Laz. “I felt her after you brought Eve home that first time, after I asked to be locked away, and then she was gone.” Gunner held her closer. “All this time I thought she was dead.”

  He ignored his brothers’ stunned looks and walked out. Rocco led the way, sword drawn, Zen at his back, both protecting them as Chaos, Kryos, and Laz tore the place apart, searching for anyone who could still be there.

  Gunner didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was the female in his arms. His female.

  She stirred, making little desperate sounds, trying to reach his neck again. He lifted her higher as he walked out of the house and onto the now darkened front lawn.

  She struck on her own this time, her small fangs sinking into his skin.

  He groaned as his wings snapped out from his back, and making sure he didn’t dislodge her hold on his throat, took to the sky. Rocco stayed with him, cursing when Gunner dipped and swayed. The more she drank, the more light-headed he got. But his arms, his wings, they stayed strong and sure.

  His brother dropped so he was flying below, more than likely so he could catch Gunner’s female if he needed to. But there was no way he’d drop her. Now that he had her, he was never letting her go.

  The compound finally came into view, and somehow he managed to land on the balcony.

  His female unlatched from his throat and went limp again. Her head fell back, and he looked down at her as he stumbled through the doors and into the control room. He swayed, hitting a desk, but managed to stay upright.

  The other females were there waiting.

  “You found her.” Grace rushed closer and gasped when she got a good look at her. “Oh god. I’ll call Jack, she needs a doctor. Bring her through, there’s an empty room upstairs…”

  Gunner shook his head. “She’ll be in my room. No doctor.”

  Grace’s eyes widened. “Hang on a minute.”

  Rocco called her name, and Gunner ignored them all as Rocco explained who she was—what she was—to the females gathered around him, and why she didn’t need a doctor.

  Gunner carried her through the doors and somehow made it down a flight of stairs to where the knights had their apartments. She latched on to him again, this time his shoulder, and moaned as she drew deep.

  Somehow, he got the door open and kicked it closed, stumbling to his bedroom.

  Lying back on the bed with her still in his arms, he let her have at him. Let her feed.

  He could regenerate blood fairly quickly. And if she took it all, it wouldn’t kill him. Her skin that had been ice cold when he first lifted her was warmer. She released him again, her head resting on his chest. He brushed her tangled hair back and tilted his head to look down at her.

  Her eyes were open, staring up at him, and they were a deeper violet now. She opened her mouth to talk but nothing came out.

  He shook his head. “Don’t try to speak, not yet.” She did another of those slow blinks, and his heart clenched in his chest. “It’s okay, take what you need, love. Take everything you need.”

  A bloody tear slid down her cheek and her gaze moved to his wrist. He offered it to her immediately, and another tear slid down her face. This time, she managed to lightly hold his forearm with shaky hands as she sunk her little fangs deep into his vein.

  Gunner reached down and brushed the tears away. “Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry. You’re safe now. I promise I’ll keep you safe.”

  The dizziness became too much, and Gunner couldn’t fight the weight of his eyelids any longer. He let them drift shut as his female fed from him, each deep pull on his vein soothing something inside him. For the first time since he felt her and lost her, there was no pain.

  Luna was warm. A warmth that sunk comfortingly into her bones, leaving her drowsy, her limbs heavy. She let her hand drift over her hips, down to her thigh. Not skin over bones, not anymore. There was flesh and muscle as well. She moved her leg, no pain seared through it. She touched it, slid her hand lower. It wasn’t twisted at an odd angle anymore.

  She tried to blink, and instead of being stuck shut, her eyes slid open.

  That’s when it all came flooding back—where she was and how she got here.

  She gasped, taking in the male beneath her and catching her scream before it could escape.

  Lying motionless, skin pale, bite marks all over his body, was Gunner. Oh god, she’d killed him. She’d fed on him until he had nothing left. She scrambled back—

  His hands shot out, wrapping around her wrist. His eyes were still closed, she wasn’t sure if he was even awake, but one of his heavily tattooed arms slid around her waist and pulled her into his side, tucking her there securely.

  Like he didn’t want her to leave.

  Why would he want her there after what she’d done to him?

  He’s delirious from lack of blood, he doesn’t know what he wants.

  She needed to move, to get out of there, now, but Gunner was so warm and smelled so good. She breathed deeply and winced. Unlike her. How could he bear it? He must be disgusted by how she’d looked when he found her, how she probably still looked. He’d walked in after breaking down the door to rescue her, because that’s what he’d done, hadn’t he? And how had she thanked him? She’d drained him of nearly all of his blood.

  She’d taken his vein and sucked until he was pale and weak and more than likely close to death.

  Pressing her ear to his chest, she listened to his heartbeat. Strong and steady. Good. That was good. If she killed him, his brothers would never let her out of here alive.

  But that wasn’t the only reason she was relieved he wasn’t dead, was it? There was that same strange feeling inside her, that pull to be close to him, that same desire to keep him alive that she didn’t understand.

  Her gaze slid to his mouth surrounded by a trimmed beard, and she swallowed as zaps like little electric currents shot through her lower belly. That was new.

  His breathing was even and deep. He didn’t look like he was dying.

  Yes, he was covered in bite marks, her bite marks, but he was warm—no, hot. And despite looking paler than usual, and a little thinner, his body was still solid, thick with muscle and—completely bare.

  Her gaze moved over him, taking in every inch. Tattoos covered both of his arms, and on the right one, the colorful swirls and patterns covered his shoulder and pec as well. On the left side of his chest there was an intricate swirling design, but it wasn’t a tattoo. She ran her hand over it and winced. It looked as if it’d been branded into his skin.

  Luna glanced down over his abs to where the sheet rested low on his hips. Very low. She couldn’t see underneath, but there was no missing the fact that he had nothing on.

  His body was so different than Sir’s.

  Luna jerked again at the thought of Sir, her skin growing clammy. That was also new.

  She tried to shake off whatever the hell was happening to her. She needed to stop this now and get away from here. She needed to find Spencer and make a plan. They couldn’t stay in Roxburgh. Sir would come for her, he’d tear down these walls to bring her home, and he’d destroy everyone in his path while doing it.

  Her gaze darted to Gunner. No.

  That couldn’t happen, not to him.

  What was it about this male? Why did her body react the way it did when he was close? She pulled away—

  Gunner’s grip tightened again. “Trying to sleep, female.”

  She froze, her gaze darting to his still closed eyes.

  Pushing against him again, she tried to climb off the bed.

  Gunner growled and tugged her back. “No.”

  Luna blinked down at him. No?

  One of his massive, calloused hands curled around the back of her head, and he gently but firmly brought her face to the crook of his neck. Without her say-so, she
breathed him in deep. His scent was so good, and oddly calming.

  “Drink,” he said. “Then sleep.”

  She jolted again, her gaze moving down her own body. She was in a huge, oversize shirt. It didn’t smell like Gunner and it was splattered with blood. Mainly demon. She was naked underneath. Had they had sex? Had he taken payment for the blood he’d given her?

  She’d been so lost in her bloodlust, she couldn’t remember much of anything. “We’re both naked,” she said, her throat scratchy, voice husky.

  His eyes snapped open, his gaze clashing with hers. “When I shift, I lose my clothes. You needed to feed. Didn’t have time to dress, love.”

  Love?

  No one had ever called her that before. Why was he calling her that? Maybe he called all females that? For some reason that made her…angry.

  His gaze slid down her body to the shirt she was wearing, and his jaw tightened.

  She licked her lips. “I’m sorry you had to…uh, suffer through that. Um…did we, did you and I…”

  “Did we what?” His eyes flashed, narrowing.

  “We’re in bed together,” she said by way of explanation.

  “Are you asking if I fucked you?”

  She nodded.

  His jaw got even tighter. “While you were nothing but skin and bones, out of your mind with hunger, in pain, and scared as hell?”

  She bit her lip and tried not to flinch at the disgust on Gunner’s face.

  “You are repulsive. So ugly, like this. Does it hurt, my little dhampir?”

  Sir's words echoed through her mind. She’d never cared about her looks, or what anyone thought of them. But for some reason, she didn’t want Gunner to be repulsed by her. “No, of course not. I’m sorry. You and your brothers rescued me. You let me…” She motioned to his body, to the bite marks all over him. “Feed from you. That must have been awful for you. But I’m grateful.” She shifted, sitting up.

  Her head spun a little, but she felt strong, amazing actually. Gunner’s blood didn’t make her feel sick or confused. Her head didn’t hurt, it was clear and…she stared down at her hand. Holy hell. Her skin looked like cream silk. Her gaze shot back to Gunner’s. His blood had done this? “I need to leave now,” she said, because right then she seriously wanted the opposite, and that was so incredibly dangerous.

  And she didn’t…feel like herself. Drinking Sir’s blood had made her feel like a twisted junkie. Gunner’s made her feel healthy, alert. So goddamn good.

  “You’re safe now,” he said in a deep, soothing voice.

  “If I stay here, this place, wherever this is, will be compromised. He’ll come for me. He’ll tear down the walls to get to me.” And when you find out the terrible things I’ve done for him, you’ll either kill me or throw me out, anyway.

  Gunner’s nostrils flared, eyes going hard. “You are safe here. He can’t get past our wards, I promise you that.”

  She shook her head, trying to pull away again. “You don’t know…you don’t know what the hell he’s capable of, you don’t know…”

  “What’s your name, love?”

  She blinked at him, the dramatic change of subject and tone of his voice as surprising as hearing that endearment again. It was enough to pull her from the edge. “Luna.”

  His chest expanded, and his eyes softened. “Yeah? I like that.”

  Warmth filled her belly. She had no idea what that meant, and she refused to acknowledge the way his now soft eyes made her belly swirl. “Anyway, thank you, for…this. But I need to go. I need to find Spencer…”

  “Spencer?”

  “He was at the house when you came. He’s my friend.” That’s what Spencer called them, anyway. The concept was confusing to her.

  “Older male? Demi?”

  “Yes.”

  Gunner sat up so he was leaning against the headboard and curled his fingers around her wrist, his thumb swiping over the inside. Goose bumps lifted all over her. How could that feel so good? It was such a small, insignificant touch.

  How was it that she could feel this?

  She assessed herself, her body, her mind. Something was most definitely different. She’d been too afraid to believe it, but there was no denying it now. More of her human emotions were waking up, and it wasn’t just that. Her body, it wasn’t…numb. Not anymore.

  “He was there when we arrived. He was gone by the time my brothers moved out,” Gunner said and gave her wrist another of those gentle swipes of his thumb.

  His touch was…distracting.

  “He could still be there.” She needed to find him.

  “My brothers searched the place from top to bottom, then burned it to the ground. He wasn’t there.” Another swipe. More goose bumps. “It’s only been a few days. He’s probably lying low. I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon.”

  Luna stared at the huge male. “Days?”

  “You’ve been feeding and sleeping, recovering for three days.” His gaze slid over her. “You’re looking…” His nostrils flared. “So much better now, love. How’s your leg?”

  A shiver slid through her when he called her love this time. “You fixed it?”

  He dragged a hand down his face, mouth flattening. “I know someone. He was called in. It had to be re-broken. Thankfully, you healed fast. My blood helped.”

  She had no recollection of it, of any of it. She opened her mouth, then closed it.

  “So Spencer? He was the one texting Grace?”

  She shook off the tingles dancing over her skin, the way this male affected her, the way he drew her, and tried to focus on his questions. “I gave him the phone right after Grace gave me her number. I knew I had a punishment coming for what I did. I told Spencer to destroy it. He obviously kept it and used it when he got concerned. Neither of us knew if I’d survive this time.”

  “Your brother is dead, by the way. He gained his powers early, which was a boon, but he continued to ask for you. Where’s my sister? Let me see my sister. It became tiresome, so I removed his head from his shoulders.”

  Pain sliced through her, but not from hunger. It was emotional pain, the same pain she’d felt in the basement when Sir told her what he’d done.

  Suddenly, she was finding it hard to sit still.

  All this time, she’d done Sir’s dirty work, let him control and use her—and it was all for nothing.

  She thought she was protecting her brother—but Ronan had already been dead.

  A growl rumbled from Gunner and she jumped, flinching at the rage etched into his handsome face. “You’ve been locked in that fucking room since then?”

  She understood anger. That’s all she’d felt the last year. And she’d dealt with angry males before, a lot of them. Demons were angry twenty-four seven, but the look in Gunner’s eyes froze her to the bone. She stilled. Sudden movements were never a good idea around volatile males.

  “No,” she said in as soothing a voice as she could muster. “I was released after two weeks, but then I…did something to anger him again.” She didn’t elaborate, didn’t want to tell him she was punished again because she protected him, in case that angered him more. “I was in there a month this last time.”

  Gunner’s eyes turned black and he growled again, so low and vicious she was surprised her heart didn’t spontaneously start beating again, just so it could race like crazy in her chest.

  “A month?” he hissed, his thick fingers curling into tight fists. “He left you there, suffering with a broken leg, without food or water or blood for a month?”

  She bit her lips together and nodded again.

  “How did you break your leg, Luna?” His voice was smooth, deadly. Demanding.

  Demanding she answer. “It was part of my punishment.”

  His face turned red, and a vein in the side of his neck bulged.

  So this was what fear felt like?

  Chapter 7

  Gunner locked his muscles so he didn’t explode out of the bed and tear his room down. The tornado of r
age inside him needed an outlet, and the fucker he wanted to rip to shreds was still in hiding.

  When he’d realized Luna’s leg had healed wrong, he’d called Jack to come and take a look. Jack was a doctor and demi who had helped them a lot over the years.

  The way her leg had looked, the pain she must have suffered—

  He took several steadying breaths, locking it down.

  Luna needed him to keep his shit together right now.

  He took her in and made himself fucking breathe. It helped.

  The days of feeding and sleep had transformed her. She was almost back to the way she’d looked the first time he’d seen her.

  Luna. Yeah, the name suited her.

  Her skin was like pale silk and utterly flawless despite the grime smeared here and there. Her hair was long and jet black, framing her heart-shaped face. She licked her lips, lips that were deep crimson and so plump and perfectly shaped he was desperate to know how they’d feel against his. How they’d taste.

  But those eyes, fuck him, they were gorgeous. Her irises had been deadly pale when he’d found her, so drained of color they almost got lost in the whites of her eyes. Now, they were deep violet. Stunning. Christ, they stole his breath—

  And right now, they were wide—and filled with fear.

  Fuck.

  He took another steadying breath, trying again to cool down. Though after holding her in his arms for days while she was nothing but skin over bones—feeding her, while she’d been so lost to her hunger, all she could do was whimper and shake, and so weak she could only suck for a short time before she passed out—he wasn’t sure that was possible.

  She was still eyeing him warily.

  Good thing he’d remembered to take off the gold cross he’d been wearing. It was hers, he had no doubt, and if she saw it, she’d have questions, questions she wasn’t ready to hear the answers for just yet.

  Uncurling his tight fists, he lifted them in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you.” The fact that he needed to say it cut him to the quick.