Knight's Dominion (Knights of Hell Book 4)

by Sherilee Gray

  She glanced up from behind the bar, looking toward the main door. She’d been doing it all night, half expecting Chaos to come storming in and drag her upstairs to pack all her stuff.

  Who the hell did he think he was, anyway?

  Yeah, he’d been messed up from mating with her, but he’d been so completely out of line. Did he truly believe she’d turn her world upside down, move in with him, just in case he got a hard-on in the middle of the night? The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.

  Actually, she'd been angry all day, snapping and bitching at the staff. Maybe Chaos had been right about the effect of his blood. It had definitely affected her libido.

  An unwelcome shot of pleasure zinged through her belly. Her traitorous body kept remembering every touch they'd shared in his bed. He'd been gentle, mindful of her injuries, when she'd all but begged him to fuck her harder. But that iron-clad control of his had never slipped once.

  Of course not.

  Well, not until they had…done what they had.

  Mated.

  What would her parents think? Her hand went to her stomach as familiar pain sliced through her, because she knew, didn’t she? They’d be disgusted with her, feel betrayed. "Shit." She slammed a glass down on the bar.

  She didn't want to think about that, or about Chaos.

  Thankfully, over the next couple of hours, the bar filled, keeping her occupied, but her side now ached like a bitch and her thigh was throbbing again.

  Vince should have made an appearance by now so she could take a break.

  But another half hour ticked by and still no sign of him.

  She was serving one of the regulars, a sweet old guy who tipped well and she suspected only came in because he was lonely, when Gunner strode in, spotted her, and headed her way.

  Great. Now Chaos had sent his brother to check up on her. What was this? High school?

  “You can tell Chaos to back the hell off," she said as soon as the knight stopped in front of her.

  He lifted both hands in surrender. "I wasn’t sent here by your mate." His top lip had a jagged scar through it on one side that you could see even through his short beard, and his mouth twisted on one side in a barely there smile. "But I'll be sure to pass on your message."

  "Don't bother." She sounded like an asshole, but right then she didn't give a damn.

  Concern covered his rough features. “I'm surprised to see you up and about."

  "I'm fine. You want a drink or something?" Her ploy to divert the conversation did not go unnoticed, but he didn't call her on it.

  He rested his forearms on the bar, and she couldn't help but admire the beautiful ink covering them. She also noticed the small cross that dangled from a chain around his neck. It was gold, delicate…feminine. It looked completely out of place on the big male. "Yes, but I won't."

  "How can I help?" God, she wished she was out on the streets hunting tonight, her aggression levels were off the charts and she needed to beat the shit out of something.

  There are other more pleasant ways to burn off some steam.

  She shut down those thoughts as quick as they came.

  "You seen Oden tonight?" Gunner asked.

  Just the mention of that male’s name was like a bucket of ice water. "No. Why are you looking for him?"

  Gunner shrugged. "He's a powerful demi. We keep an eye on a lot of people."

  The guy was being cagey on purpose. He wanted her to bite, so she did. "You got something to say, then spit it out."

  He was watching her like he didn't trust her worth shit, and that did nothing to improve her current emotional state.

  "You sure you haven't seen him tonight?"

  "Are you deaf?" she fired back.

  "No, and I'm not stupid, either, so cut the shit. Oden was here about half an hour ago."

  She rested her hands on the bar, kind of freaked that she could have missed him. “It’s been busy most of the night, he could have slipped by without me seeing him."

  "He left through the front of the club. I followed him, then poof, I couldn't sense him anymore.”

  She stilled. “Fuck.” They both knew what that meant. He was involved in the war, deeply involved. In her gut she’d known. The male hadn’t just been hanging around to get in her pants.

  "You know where he might have gone, how he was able to do that? Has he ever shared anything like that with you...during your time together?"

  Was he actually questioning her loyalty? She gritted her teeth, fingers curling into fists on the bar. "I gave the prick a lap dance, Gunner. I'm a stripper, that's what I do. So, no, he didn't share his plans for world domination with me. He let me bounce around on his dick for a bit, shoved a twenty down the side of my G-string, and sent me on my way like a good little whore."

  Gunner’s eyes darkened. “I don't think you're a…”

  "Sorry, my bad. You just think I'm a liar, and someone who would betray her people for some asshole with a fat wallet and a little power. Don’t you think I’d be with Chaos right now if that was the case?” She turned away before she threw a bottle at him and served a waiting customer.

  Gunner waited for a while, but she ignored him until he finally gave up and left.

  She’d feel bad for the attitude she’d given him, if he hadn’t all but accused her of colluding with the enemy. She needed to talk to Vince. Now. Jesus. That disappearing act Oden did was proof he was a traitor to his people, that he was thoroughly tied up in the war.

  Grace got someone to cover for her, and rushed to Vince's office.

  No one answered when she knocked, and when she opened the door, the room was empty. Dread spiked through her belly, and she raced upstairs to his apartment. She knocked several times, but there was no answer. Racing to her place next door, she grabbed the spare set of keys she kept for him and let herself in.

  The place was trashed. “Vince?”

  A groan came from the bathroom. She rushed in. Vince lay on the floor, clutching his side. She pulled his hand away and lifted his shirt. There was a massive bruise, the mark was unmistakable. A boot print. He’d definitely broken some ribs. His face was a mess, broken nose, split lip. But he was alive. "Oden did this?"

  “L-leave it, Grace,” he groaned.

  She helped him up, basically dragging him off the floor, and felt her stitches pull painfully. “We need to get you to the hospital."

  "No. I don't want anyone to know about this. I can't go to the hospital... Shit." He gasped in pain.

  She helped him to the bedroom and onto the bed, making him as comfortable as she could. "I'll be back. I know someone who can help.” Well, sort of knew them—she'd seen his handiwork, anyway.

  Striding back to the living room, she pulled out her phone. The doc who’d patched her up had left his number in case any problems arose. She had a problem all right, just not one he might be expecting.

  He answered after two rings.

  He didn't sound thrilled when she explained the situation, but seeing as she was Chaos's mate he'd be there in fifteen.

  Vince was shivering when she walked back in, no doubt going into shock. She pulled the covers over him and brushed his hair away from his forehead. “You owe him something. Money?”

  "Y-yes." He coughed, then cried out in pain.

  “You sure it’s just money, Vince?”

  He stared at her through bloodshot eyes. “Yes.”

  “You’d tell me if there was more, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course,” he choked out.

  She wanted to believe him, she really did. But as much as she loved Vince, he’d made some dumb decisions before. Especially when it came to powerful demi like Oden.

  Vince grabbed her wrist hard enough to bruise. "Promise me you'll stay away from him, Grace."

  "Vince..."

  "Promise me. He's dangerous, into some serious shit. I'd rather hand over the club than..."

  “Than what?”

  He shook his head.

  She grabbe
d his shoulders, suddenly feeling ill. “I know he’s involved in the war, Vince, on the wrong fucking side. He’s colluding with demons, isn’t he? Are you involved?”

  He shook his head wildly. “No. I would never betray our people, never.”

  “Is he trying to pressure you to join him?”

  He closed his eyes, looking pained. “I won’t do it, Gracie, I won’t.”

  “We’ll stop him, Vince. I promise you that.”

  A gasp came from the door, and she spun around. Cate, a new dancer, stood there gaping. Shit. Grace jumped up to block her view. "You need to leave, and keep this to yourself, do you understand?"

  She didn't move, frozen at the door. Grace reached out and grabbed her arm. Her power flared out of nowhere, shot to her sternum, then fired down her arm. Cate cried out, eyes wide with terror and pain.

  The other female shrieked and slapped Grace’s hand away, stumbling back. "What did you just try to do to me?"

  Grace grabbed on to the wall for support. "I-I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

  Cate spun around and ran from the room.

  Shit, with her injuries, her emotions all over the place, finding Vince beaten, she’d dropped her guard.

  "What the fuck was that?" Vince said from behind her.

  “Nothing.”

  Vince watched her, a weird expression on his face. “That wasn’t nothing, Gracie.”

  “It’s…it’s new, okay.” He was the only person who knew she’d never had a real power, until now anyway.

  “What is it?”

  “I can…draw others’ powers into me, use them.”

  He smiled, pride shining from his eyes. “I knew you had it in you, Gracie. I always knew you were destined for great things.”

  She sure as hell didn’t feel great right then.

  Chapter 21

  Chaos pounded his fist into the punching bag, blow after blow until his bare knuckles were split and bleeding. He hadn't been near Revelry or Grace in four days, and it had done nothing to ease his need—she was still there in his head, constantly on his mind. She’d moved in and redecorated his gray matter, and there was no going back.

  He couldn't sleep, could barely eat. This whole thing was a major fuckup. On top of that, Rocco was still AWOL. If Chaos couldn't get through to him, they would lose him just like they’d lost Tobias. That couldn't happen.

  Not to mention the two-headed nightmare hiding somewhere in the city. It was only a matter of time before it went apeshit and started eating humans in plain sight.

  His world was crumbling around him and yet all he could think about was Grace.

  He slammed his fist into the leather one more time, the force of it hard enough to jar his shoulder. He would conquer this.

  Winning this war had to come first. He had to find a way to force her from his mind, forget the way she looked naked on his bed, the way she'd felt beneath him. Even the way she joked around and teased him. A smile came to him unbidden.

  He’d thought things had changed between them, but he’d been wrong.

  He’d been accused of being heartless, ruthless, single-minded by his brothers, by Grace. Well, he needed that single-mindedness now. He needed the ruthlessness, that control back. Right. Fucking. Now.

  His powers had increased, the surge buzzing through his veins, and that’s what he needed to focus on. Not the infuriating, sexy female who’d taken up residence in his head.

  Sweat slid down his chest, soaking into the waistband of his shorts, but he continued to pound the bag, even when it got to the point where he had trouble lifting his arms.

  Gunner came out of nowhere. “Chaos.”

  He swiped sweat out of his eyes. "What?"

  “Where the hell were you? I’ve been calling your name for the last five minutes."

  Get it together.

  "It's one in the morning. I wasn't expecting company." He snatched up a towel and wiped himself down. "What is it? Rocco?"

  Pain flashed through his brother’s eyes. "No. Just a trail of dismembered demons. He doesn’t even bother taking their heads now.”

  "Shit."

  Gunner rubbed his hand over his short beard. “Oden did a vanishing act tonight, I saw him. He’s working with the demons. But I couldn’t track him, the male’s smoke.”

  Every muscle in Chaos’s body seized. “Where?”

  “Revelry."

  His demon twisted inside him and snarled. "Alone?" The roughness of his voice gave away too much, but he had no control over his reaction.

  "Yeah.” Gunner didn't have to say anything more, it was written all over his face: bewilderment, confusion...pity. "Why don’t you just go and apologize. Move her into the compound. It's where she belongs."

  A longing, deep and fierce, gripped him by the throat. "Didn't ask your opinion, so keep it the fuck to yourself."

  Gunner glanced down at Chaos’s cracked, bleeding knuckles. "Yeah, ’cause your way of handling it seems to be working out great for you.”

  "Grace and me...we're not like Laz or Kryos or Zen and their mates. Neither of us wanted it."

  Shaking his head, Gunner let out a sigh. “You trying to convince me or yourself?”

  Why the hell were they even discussing this? "You don't know what you're talking about." Chaos cracked his neck, hoping to release the tension riding him. “We're in a goddamn death roll, time’s running out, and if we don't find a way out, we're gonna drown. I can’t afford to let this shit with Grace get in my head. We’re mated, it’s done. That’s all we needed.”

  “This isn’t something you can just ignore,” Gunner said.

  Chaos was suddenly weary as hell. “You think I don’t know that? Shit, our brother losing his mate has fucked more than Rocco’s head. It affects us all. As much as I didn’t want it, I knew when the time came, if we were all mated, we’d be at our strongest. We might have stood a chance. That's not happening for Roc now. We've lost Tobias. That just left you and me without mates. I had to do it—we needed the strength—and now I have to learn to fucking live with the consequences.”

  Gunner dropped his gaze and let out a shaky breath. "She's not out there for me.”

  His voice was strained, rough, a tone Chaos had never heard coming from the male before. "Zenon thought that once, too. So did I. She’s out there.”

  Gunner’s features shifted, a combination of self-loathing and pain stared back at Chaos. "I know. I fucking know, all right? She’s not out there, not anymore.”

  Chaos froze, really looking at his brother. He hadn’t been the same since Lazarus and Eve mated. Her power had fucked with them all, and Gunner had ended up locked in the cells, afraid he’d lose himself to his demon completely. He refused to talk about it. “Gunner…”

  “Don’t,” he said, making it clear he wasn’t going there, then his eyes locked on Chaos. “You're making the wrong decision,” he rasped. “You think you have a good reason, some noble crap, no doubt, for denying yourself. Fuck that. You will regret it if you try to keep her at a distance. I promise you that." Then he walked out of the gym.

  Chaos knew he should go after him and press for more information, but it was obvious Gunner didn’t want that, and who the hell was Chaos to offer advice when he’d made so many mistakes of his own?

  The silence of his apartment was oppressive when he walked in later, and for the first time that he could remember, he hated it. When he walked into the bedroom, his eyes immediately landed on his perfectly made bed. Nothing in his room, his apartment, was out of place, it was like it always was—like some emotionless robot lived there.

  He stared at the pillow beside his, where Grace had lain tucked in tight against him. He hadn’t changed the pillowcase. Why? He didn't know. He just knew it calmed him, calmed his demon, and every morning he woke with his face buried against it, like her scent drew him to it while he slept.

  A fantasy of her cuffed to his headboard, body hot and straining, skin flushed, legs spread wide, her telling him how much she needed him,
wanted him, filled his head.

  Unable to get up and leave him again.

  At his mercy.

  Sinking into her like that, tight and so damn wet.

  The sound of her voice, her cries, her panted breaths echoed through his mind like she was right there with him. His dick filled and lengthened. God, how he hungered for her.

  The demon inside him clawed to the surface, making his skin itch, feverish need pummeling him from all directions. Without thought, instincts fully in control, he crawled across the bed and buried his nose against the cool cotton, drawing in her now fading scent.

  Rolling onto his back, taking the pillow with him, he groaned and shoved down the front of his shorts, freeing himself. He wrapped his fingers around his painfully hard length and squeezed.

  This was what he'd been reduced to, sniffing a fucking pillow so he could jerk off. Pathetic. But no other female could slake his lust. Other females no longer existed to him.

  Only Grace.

  He slid his hand up and squeezed the head, then back down. Letting his eyes drift closed, he allowed images of her to flicker through his mind, the way she'd come hard around him, nails scoring his skin, the sounds she'd made.

  In minutes, he was teetering on the edge.

  Increasing his strokes, faster, rougher, he came with a shout, hot come splashing his stomach and chest. Breathing ragged, he shoved the pillow aside and stared at the ceiling for several minutes, each exhale loud in the deafening silence.

  He'd fucked everything up.

  He'd failed the males that trusted him most, missing what was going on in his own fucking house. He'd lost Tobias, blind to the pain that had consumed him at the loss of his mate, and he hadn't even known Rocco had found his, and now it was too late.

  They’d trusted him, chosen him to lead them. He was leading them straight to Hell.

  Climbing off the bed, he got in the shower to wash off the remaining traces of his latest loss of control. He was dressed and strapping on his weapons when there was a soft knock at the door. Desperate to get out of there, to hunt down some demons, make them fucking talk, fight off some of this frustration, he yanked the door open with a growl. “What?”