Her gaze was heavy, and her bottom lip was dark red, swollen, like she’d been biting the plump flesh. “That was incredible.”
Her satisfaction was his. Making her happy, pleasing her, pleased him like nothing ever had. His chest ached just looking at her lying there. He leaned forward, covering her body with his, and took her mouth in a gentle kiss for no other reason than he wanted to. Her legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in tight, and she ground her hips against him like she couldn’t get enough. But then she stilled and he inwardly cringed.
“Zenon, you’re not…you don’t…” He pushed away, and her gaze dropped to the front of his jeans and his soft, useless fucking dick. Heat slashed across her cheeks, and she sat up and began to yank her jeans back on. “Oh my God. I’m such an idiot.” She spun to face him. “Was this you teaching me some kind of sick, twisted lesson?”
What the fuck had he done? He shook his head, couldn’t speak, didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell her the truth, couldn’t admit to what he was, what he had to do to survive.
A sob broke past her kiss-swollen lips and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand. “Jesus. I knew you had a lot of anger inside you. But I didn’t think you’d be this cruel, not to me.” She shoved past him and ran from the room.
Zenon kept his feet rooted to the floor. Going after her would be pointless. Nothing had changed. He couldn’t have her, and he’d made sure of it. He’d hurt her again, and in the worst possible way.
Lifting the bench Mia had lay across only minutes ago, he let loose a cry filled with all the anger, all the hopelessness of his situation, and threw it across the room.
After staggering over to lean against the wall, he slid to the floor.
He had to let her go. It was for the best.
Then why did it feel like she’d torn his heart from his chest when she’d run through that door?
Chapter 9
Zenon heard Kryos coming through the night sky before he landed.
“What’s up?”
Zenon turned as the warrior folded in his pure white wings, so white they glowed under the streetlights.
“I can only sense one. Go home. I don’t need your help.” Kryos was a good guy, a lethal fighter. But after what happened with Mia, he was in no mood for company.
As usual, though, he struggled to find the right words, and Kryos assumed he was being difficult.
The big male shook his head, hands going to his hips. “Jesus, Zenon. When are you going to get it through that thick skull that we’re in this fight together? You don’t do shit on your own. I don’t give a rat’s ass where you were born.”
Zenon hated how strongly those words affected him. He didn’t let any of it show on his face, though, and shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
Kryos muttered something, but thankfully that was the end of it, and he fell into step beside him. “This place gives me the heebs. It’s so damn dark out here.”
Zenon snorted. The pair of them were the scariest things out there, far as he could tell. “I’ll be sure to get you a night-light for your birthday.”
“Shut it. You know what I mean. It’s creepy as fuck.”
The glow from the streetlights did nothing to illuminate the cemetery, and instead caused long shadows to sprout from the headstones dotted all over what would have been prime real estate if it weren’t for all the corpses.
They grew silent as they moved deeper into the grounds. He fucking hated Ibwa demons. This whole thing was way off. They were usually a lot more discreet when it came to feeding time, but for some reason this nasty fucker had decided to dine in rather than take out. And it sure as hell wouldn’t do for a late-night visitor, or some poor homeless bastard looking for a quiet place to sleep to come across what was sure to be a grisly sight.
The sloppy sounds of something chowing down reached them in the darkness and Kryos pointed to the right, his face screwed up in disgust.
They moved up behind a shiny new headstone, the smooth white marble almost fluorescent in the dim light. Probably belonging to someone important, the monstrosity stood at least four feet tall with an angel perched on top, at least the same height again, its white wings curled into its back. Without a word they split, taking a side each.
“Fuck me,” Kryos said, looking down.
The Ibwa was in full-on munch mode, so engrossed in the act of stripping rotting flesh from bone it didn’t look up. Not a normal reaction. Totally screwed up.
The guy was half in the hole he’d dug with his bare hands. His fingernails were torn and bleeding, his suit covered in mud and other more unpleasant things. These guys might eat the dead, but they usually did the digging with a shovel, and they sure as hell didn’t do the eating in plain sight.
“Hey,” Kryos called down.
Nothing.
Zenon shoved its shoulder with his boot, not in a hurry to touch the guy at this point. The demon glanced up, chewing furiously, and Zenon had to fight to keep the last meal he’d had in his stomach. The Ibwa’s glazed eyes were unfocused and looked right through them.
“Shit,” Kryos muttered. Zen looked across to the other warrior. “He’s like the others. No one’s home.”
The demon didn’t try to flee. Instead it looked back down and continued to eat. “We have to get him out of there.”
Kryos took a step back. “Reverse dibs.”
“Are you shitting me?”
Kryos screwed up his face. “Nope. It’s been called. And according to the international rules of reverse dibs, the guy’s all yours.”
“Jesus.” Zenon didn’t waste time. He leaned in, gripped the demon by the pits, and hauled his disgusting ass out of the grave.
That set the guy off. He went gonzo, lashing out and trying to take a bite out of his shoulder. Zen shoved him with one hand and reached back with the other. Gripping one of his ax handles, he pulled it free and swung out as the Ibwa came in for a second bite.
The demon’s head landed with a dull thud at Kryos’s feet, and the knight kicked it back into the hole.
The body ashed out seconds later and they quickly got to work cleaning up the grave site.
“If someone’s controlling these demons, what was the point of that? Seeing if we’d lose our lunch?”
Zenon shrugged. He had no damn clue what the hell was going on.
“They’re toying with us.” Kryos scanned the surrounding area. “Drawing us out.”
That’s when the rest of the visitors made their presence known. Demons of varying breeds stepped out from the shadowy edge of the graveyard.
Zenon hadn’t felt their presence, still didn’t, which was seriously fucked up. “Can you feel them?”
“Nope.” Kryos palmed his Glock with one hand and drew his sword with the other.
Zenon reached back, pulling his Li Kweis free. The weight of both ax handles gripped in his fingers felt good, a natural extension of his hands.
As the demons closed in, he didn’t miss the glazed look in their eyes or the fact that these guys were focused on one thing: him and Kryos.
Demons lucky enough to slip by them during the solstice or equinox tended to lie low unless they’d been granted sanctuary, because doing stupid shit, drawing attention to themselves, resulted in them getting dead real quick.
None of these guys were acting in a way that could be described as typical. They were here to fight. No guns that he could see, thank fuck, but knives glinted in each of their hands.
This was an organized attack. Someone had gotten them together, armed them, and pointed them in Kryos and Zenon’s direction.
He just hoped they got this over with quick, because he had somewhere else he needed to be.
Mia glanced over at the table in the corner.
Rocco and Lazarus had been sitting across the room, watching her for the last hour, checking if anything had changed, if her powers had miraculously unlocked. Obviously sensing that hadn’t happened, Lazarus had left, and Rocco had moved his focus fro
m her to Kyler, one of the other waitresses.
It was rude, not going over to say hello, but if she did that, she’d ask about Zenon, and she didn’t want to ask about Zenon. He’d made a fool of her, and she’d let him. The place had been packed all night, though, and the big males would have noticed that and seen how run off her feet she was.
God, why was she worrying about this? Pushing all thoughts of the knights from her mind, she got on with her job and collected another drink order from the bar. In an hour her shift would be over and she could go home for a long soak in the tub and a nice hot cup of tea.
The next hour flew by, and when her replacement arrived, she grabbed her coat and bag from the back and made her way through the crowd toward the door. An arm slipped around her waist from behind, and she was pulled in close to someone. “Hey, baby. You wanna dance?” The guy ground his erection against her ass.
Gross. Mia plastered on a fake smile and turned to face him. “Sorry, I’m just leaving.”
His grip tightened. “Oh, come on, stay. Let’s dance,” he yelled in that way drunk people tended to do, showering her in spittle.
She resisted the urge to wipe her face in front of him. Pissing him off would just make the situation worse. “Sorry. I really have to go.” She slipped from his grip and pushed through the wall of people that had closed in. The drunk guy grabbed at her jacket, but thankfully the crowd made it impossible for him to hang on.
The street was busy when she stepped outside, so she stood against the building while she did up her coat. Rocco walked out a moment later, Kyler tucked under his arm, her face flushed and laughing at something he’d just said. Without even a glance in her direction, they headed off down the street.
Mia didn’t know the other woman very well, but couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. There was no way she could know what she was getting into. Rocco didn’t come across as the kind of guy to stick around, and if Kyler woke up in the morning with any romantic notions about the male, she was in for major disappointment.
Tucking her bag under her arm, she lifted the collar on her coat and started toward her temporary home. The streets stayed busy for the first two blocks but thinned closer to her apartment. The breeze picked up and she shivered, but when the gust died down the goose bumps that covered her skin remained. The feeling of being watched slithered down her neck and she picked up her pace.
She was only two blocks away from her apartment. Glancing around, she realized she was all alone. Like that chill wind had taken everyone with it.
Darting glances into the shadowy corners, she walked quickly and quietly. This was ridiculous. She’d walked home the last two nights without any problems.
Pull it together, Mia. You’re being paranoid.
A crash rang out a short distance behind her, she guessed from one of the alleys, shattering the silence. She jumped. “Oh God.”
At that point, because she wasn’t an idiot, she broke into a jog. Her heart pounded in her ears and she couldn’t hear a thing over her rapid exhales. Holding her breath, she turned her head and listened. The sound of heavy booted feet hitting the ground behind her ricocheted off the pavement. Her jog became an all-out run.
No. No. No. This wasn’t happening.
Her apartment building was just up ahead and she sprinted the last few yards then punched in the security code.
The door didn’t open.
She tried to concentrate on keying in the correct numbers as well as fighting to breathe, while her fingers shook, and those footsteps got closer. It was probably just the drunk guy from the bar. She could deal with him. Couldn’t she?
She yanked the door again, but it didn’t budge. She was half demon, for Christ’s sake, but unless the guy needed a light for his cigarette, she was useless—defenseless. A sob tore from her throat and she spun around to face whoever was behind her.
Nothing.
Shit. She searched the street, but it was deserted. She slumped against the door. Now she was hearing things?
The scrape of a boot had her whipping around to face the other direction.
Zenon stood there, looking pissed. His huge leathery wings were extended like he’d just landed and when he tucked them in tight to his back they disappeared completely.
Her hand flew to her chest. “Jesus. Don’t do that. You scared the crap out of me.”
“What happened?” he barked.
Mia stared at him. She hadn’t seen him since she’d run out on him after he’d humiliated her and used her body against her. But did she get an apology or a measly, “Hello, how are you?”
Nope, he barked and scowled at her like she was the biggest pain in the ass for daring to draw breath, and how dare she encroach on his demon-killing time by fearing for her pitiful life? Which was why she wanted to slap herself silly for still being affected by him.
But dammit, she was.
“Mia.” He let out a long breath, like dealing with her was one huge irritation. “Why were you running?”
His voice was low, threatening, and his obvious anger knocked her out of her stunned silence. “I scared myself, that’s all. Some guy grabbed onto me when I was leaving work and I thought for a minute he was following me.”
“He touched you?”
What the hell was his problem? “I handled it. I’ve worked in lots of bars, Zenon. I know how to deal with drunks.”
He watched her for several painstaking minutes, in which time his jaw clenched so tight she thought she heard his bones groan in protest. “You’re okay?”
She looked back down the street. It was completely deserted besides her and Zenon. No. “Yes.”
He took a step forward. “Mia…”
She turned her back on him and tried to key in the code a third time, but the damn door still wouldn’t open. In frustration, she yanked on it, desperate to get the hell away from him and the effect he had on her—on her body. A condition he did not suffer in return.
During her fourth attempt, he moved in behind her. He didn’t touch her, of course, but she could feel his heat through her coat.
“Let me.” He placed one hand on the glass door in front of them and reached around her with the other, effectively trapping her between his massive arms.
God, she couldn’t bear it.
When his breath grazed her temple, she wanted to scream. After the callous way he’d treated her, her body still betrayed her, responding almost violently. The door released with a whoosh and she released the breath she’d been holding.
He didn’t move.
“Why are you here?” she asked. But what she wanted to say was “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you torturing me like this?”
More silence. “I was on my way home. I saw you.”
“Right.” Why did she keep doing this to herself? What did she want him to say? I couldn’t stay away?
“I’ll make sure someone’s here to walk you home from now on.”
“I don’t need a chaperone. Do other demi get escorts home from work?”
His silence was answer enough. She pushed the door wider and tried to squeeze through, but he surprised the hell out of her by grabbing her arm.
“About the other day, in the gym…I’m sorry.” His voice was guttural, hollow.
She didn’t want his apology. God, this was humiliating enough. Anger welled up inside her. She just wanted him to leave her alone. “Don’t worry about it, Zenon. I’m happy to tell you, you succeeded. You got what you wanted, because I sure as hell won’t delude myself where you’re concerned again.” She shrugged. “And hey, at least I got a few orgasms out of it, right? What do I have to complain about?”
His eyes flashed. “Don’t.”
There was an unmistakable warning in his tone, but at this point she was too pissed and hurt to stop and couldn’t shut herself up if she tried. “You’re good with your mouth, I’ll give you that.”
“Don’t,” he repeated, so low her toes curled.
She took a dangerous step closer
, got in his space. “You should charge by the hour with a skill like that.” She opened her purse. “How much do I owe you?”
The rage contorting his face and the sparks of ebony exploding through the yellow of his irises finally managed to cut off her hurt-fueled rant. She flinched and tried to step back, but she had nowhere to go.
“Shut your fucking mouth,” he hissed. Then his fist drew back and plowed into—no, through the glass behind her. The entire thing shattered with an earsplitting crash, and tiny shards of demolished security-toughened glass rained down over the foyer carpet like hail.
She stumbled back. “Oh my God. What the hell is wrong with you?”
The rage washed from his face, replaced with unmistakable horror. “Mia, I’m sorry.” He fisted his hair. “I’m sorry.”
Mia backed away, glass crunching under the soles of her shoes. “Just…just stay the hell away from me.” Then she turned and ran for the stairs.
Chapter 10
Zenon staggered back. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” His repeated curses were punctuated by the smack of his cut, bleeding fist against the side of his head.
He deserved far worse. His stomach tightened. The look on her face. Jesus. She thought he was going to hit her.
He’d lost his goddamned mind.
An alarm started up, and the sound rang out, echoing around the empty street.
Unfurling his wings, he lifted off the ground but didn’t go far, taking his spot opposite Mia’s apartment. He couldn’t leave even if he wanted to. Christ, he was fucked in the head. He’d lost his temper. Had frightened her again. Now that window was shrapnel, and he’d managed to make her more vulnerable than ever.
Laz or Kryos would sooner cut off a limb than hurt or frighten their mate, would never put them in a position where their safety was compromised. He was so screwed up he couldn’t even protect her from himself, let alone anything else that might harm her.
Explaining what just went down was not something he wanted to do right then, but the knights owned that building and the sooner someone came to replace the window the better. Grabbing his phone, he keyed a quick text to Chaos, cluing him in on the damage to the building without specifics.
Knight's Salvation (Knights of Hell Book 2) Page 10
