Knight's Salvation (Knights of Hell Book 2)

by Sherilee Gray

  He curled his lip in disgust. “I have feelings for you, too. The first that come to mind are hate and repulsion.”

  She flinched then reached for him, and when he stepped back her eyes flashed. All sign of emotion wiped clean from her porcelain smooth skin. “Fortunately, your feelings don’t come into this. My mark is on you, which means you belong to me. You will go back with me when the time comes and you will do it without making a fuss. If you resist in this, I will kill her, and she will suffer first.”

  Every nerve ending in his body sparked, shooting inward, nailing him behind the ribs, shredding his pounding heart. He would never allow her to hurt Mia. Which meant his time on Earth was over. He was going back. And not even Silas could stop it.

  For the time being, Helena couldn’t touch her, not while she was at the compound. Now he knew where the threat lay, she wouldn’t be leaving. He was shackled to this monster, but he refused to let this sick, twisted bitch anywhere near Mia. He had no choice, no options.

  The only way to ensure Mia’s safety permanently was for Helena to go back to Hell, and the only way she’d go was if he said he’d go with her.

  His blood turned to ice and he was close to throwing up at the evil bitch’s feet. The idea of going back to that living hell nearly broke him right there. But he’d do it, if that would save Mia.

  He’d suffer a million lifetimes of pain and humiliation to make sure Mia was never touched by this kind of evil, to know that she was happy and safe and free. He could handle anything as long as he knew that.

  “I need your vow,” she said.

  A boulder sat in the pit of his stomach. “I’ll go.” His voice was raw and broken, which was exactly how he felt inside.

  She smiled, all cat-that-got-the-cream, and stepped closer. Her smile morphed into a sneer as she reached up and fisted the hair at the base of his skull. “Good boy. Now get on your fucking knees.”

  Zenon went down without protest. He felt oddly detached as she slid the straps of her dress from her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. He was a slave. He was born a slave and he would die a slave. That was all he had ever been, all he would ever be.

  She sat back on a chair and spread her thighs. He didn’t wait to be told and walked on his knees toward her. He felt nothing, was dead inside. He didn’t resist as she forced his head down, didn’t flinch as she tugged and pulled on his hair. No, he did the only thing he was good for, the only thing he would ever be good for.

  He serviced his mistress.

  Chapter 13

  Helena had kept him for two hellish days, and when he stepped outside, his naked skin throbbed and stung with every step. This time the cool night air did little to soothe the damage she’d done to him.

  He locked his knees, refusing to fall on his ass. His body was hard at work, repairing itself, draining energy he didn’t have, energy she’d refused to give him.

  It’s over. I’m going back to Hell…one way or another.

  The view from her penthouse apartment’s balcony was spectacular, and if it hadn’t been for Mia, he’d take a dive off that balcony and forget he had wings. In his weakened state, it might actually finish him off this time.

  He’d only survived the last two days because of his unwavering need to get back to her, to make sure she was okay. At least while his mistress was torturing him she didn’t have time to go after Mia.

  “Zenon.” He turned at the sound of Silas’s voice. Pain lined the angel’s face. “I didn’t know you were coming here.”

  Zenon shrugged, trying to appear unaffected, which was a major fail since he stumbled to the right and only stayed on his feet because he clung to the railing.

  “Fuck.” Silas’s muttered curse was low, full of rage.

  “She’s regaining her powers.” The wind picked up, whipped around his face. Maybe if it blew hard enough it could carry away the awful truth of his words. “She’s going back. I’m going with her.” He knew he sounded hollow—dead—but couldn’t bring himself to fake it.

  Silas thrust his fingers in his hair while doing a whole lot more cursing. But there was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do. At full power, even Silas wouldn’t be able to keep her contained.

  If he stayed on Earth and Helena went on her own, Zenon would die without her power and what it gave him—and so would Mia. Helena would make sure of that. If he tried to go back with her, the angel brand on his face still intact, Zenon would die. If he cut the thing out, he could return to Hell. He’d live—but he’d wish he was dead.

  “When?”

  Zenon shrugged. “I don’t know yet. She’s keeping it a surprise. I guess when she’s back to full power. Soon.” Letting his Kishi demon take over, he extended his wings.

  “Zenon, wait.”

  There was nothing more to be said. Ignoring Silas, he headed home. Back to his female, back to Mia.

  Mia held the phone away from her ear and waited until her sister finished her tirade. When she quieted, Mia tried again to calm her and convince her she was okay.

  “Why didn’t anyone tell me you’d been attacked? Goddammit, you were hurt. I’m your big sister. I have a right to know these things. They’re supposed to be looking after you. Shit.”

  “Chay, I’m okay. I promise you have nothing to worry about.”

  “No, Mia. It’s not good enough. That’s it. I’m coming. Someone needs to knock some sense into those males. Might as well be me.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Chaya was shorter than Mia but still saw herself as ten feet tall and bulletproof. Despite being only twelve months older, she’d appointed herself as Mia’s protector. After their mother died, her protectiveness got a whole lot worse.

  “Brent! I’m taking time off,” her sister yelled, nearly deafening her.

  Before she could say anything, Mia heard a low male voice in the background. Chaya hissed something back in response.

  “Chay?” The voices got louder. “Chay, you there?”

  “Put me down!” That was all she heard before the phone made a clunking sound.

  “Chaya?”

  “Ah, hello?”

  “Who is this? Where’s my sister?”

  A low chuckle traveled down the line. “Brent’s taken her to his office. He looked pissed.”

  Great, she was in trouble again. “Can you get her to call me back later?”

  “Sure thing.” The phone disconnected.

  Her sister wasn’t happy unless she was surrounded by drama. Mia just hoped she didn’t give poor Brent too much of a hard time and he managed to convince her coming here was a really bad idea. The last thing she needed was her pint-sized sister barging in and raising hell. If Chaya lost her job, it would ruin everything for both of them.

  After putting the phone down on the counter, she went back to pulling ingredients from the fridge. Dinner for one again. It had been two days since Zenon walked out the door. No one seemed to know where he was, but no one questioned it either, like he just up and vanished all the time. It felt weird being in his apartment, sleeping in his bed. She’d asked for another room, but Chaos told her she had to stay put.

  She found this strange, but again she was given no explanation.

  She was chopping vegetables when the apartment door opened and Zenon walked in. He was wearing workout clothes and his head was down.

  “You’re back.” She’d been so worried and had missed him so much she wanted to run to him, but knew he wouldn’t welcome it.

  He didn’t look up. “Yeah, ah, sorry I bailed. Had somewhere to be.” He walked to his bedroom and closed the door.

  What was she supposed to do? Something was wrong, but he didn’t like to be touched, so she couldn’t comfort him. He didn’t like to talk either, so she ruled that out. In the end, she went back to the kitchen and carried on making the dinner, adding a couple of extra steaks for Zenon. He might not want to talk but the guy had to eat, right?

  The steak was cooked and she was dishing up the mas
hed potatoes and salad when she felt him behind her.

  “Smells good.”

  She turned to face him. His hair was damp and he had on a pair of beaten up looking jeans and a faded Harley Davidson tee that clung to his chest and biceps. He looked good, good enough to eat. He also looked tired. “I’m sorry. I know I’m invading your space. But I was told to stay here…”

  His yellow eyes pinned her to the spot and cut off her words. “I want you here.”

  Her belly fluttered. Jesus, he was beautiful. “Okay.”

  He tilted his head toward their plates. “So we gonna eat?”

  “Yeah, sure. I’ll just…”

  He walked over, grabbed both plates, and headed to the living room. She was glad his back was to her or he would have seen her mouth hanging open. The guy barely talked, had pushed her away time and again, and now he was telling her he wanted her in his apartment. There was no figuring him out, but with a male like him she guessed you had no choice but to go along for the ride and figure out where the hell you were when you got there.

  After filling two glasses with juice, she followed. Zenon was already eating when she sat down on the couch beside him. She started to put their drinks on the coffee table, but he reached out and took one before it hit the glass top, downing it in one go. His dinner was gone a few minutes later.

  She blinked over at him. “Would you like more?”

  “Yeah, that’d be good.”

  Mia filled his plate and poured more juice. He drank the second glass like the first then went at his second helping like a starving man. He’d finished before she was halfway through hers.

  When she put down her plate and sat back, he turned to her. “You’re a good cook.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Someone teach you to cook like that?”

  “My mother. She loved to cook.”

  He was quiet for a few seconds. “So it was you, your mom, and your sister growing up?”

  “Uh-huh.” Okay, she was freaking out a little. Who the hell was this Zenon and what had he done with the original?

  “You miss having a dad around?”

  Where was he going with this? “Is there…is there something wrong?”

  He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Shit.” When he looked up, his face was flushed. Was he embarrassed?

  “What’s going on, Zenon?”

  “I just…fuck.” His head dipped forward. He was hiding from her again.

  She reached out and touched his arm. “Tell me.”

  “I just want to get to know you, all right?” He growled the words at her, but she wasn’t afraid. It hadn’t been hard to work out anger was Zenon’s default emotion when he was uncomfortable or uncertain.

  Heart beating faster, she moved slowly, lifted her legs onto the couch, crossing them in front of her, and faced him. She was afraid something might shatter this—whatever it was that was going on between them. “Yeah, I missed having a dad. My mom talked about him all the time. She really loved him, yanno? He left just after I was born. Chaya was barely one. She never said why he left, but she never got over him. She died loving him.”

  She knew better than to question him about his childhood and waited, hoping he’d ask her another question.

  He watched her again, making her breath hitch and her body warm. “What’d you wanna be when you grew up?”

  Of all the questions he could have asked, she hadn’t expected that one. She kept her expression serious. “I wanted to be a fairy princess with a crown and a wand, and ride a purple unicorn.”

  To her utter shock and delight, Zenon threw back his head and laughed. The sound was deep and husky and she felt it all the way down to her toes. He looked even more beautiful like that. She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  When he stopped, a small grin played on his lips. “You would’ve been an amazing princess.” He reached out and wrapped a lock of her hair around one of his thick fingers. “You’ve got all this beautiful red hair, princess hair.”

  The compliment stunned her, but again she forced herself not to react. “I always thought so, but to become a princess I needed to find my prince. I haven’t had much luck so far.”

  The grin disappeared and he dropped his hand, looked down. Dammit, she wanted to kick herself.

  “There been anyone serious, Mia?” The words sounded torn from him. Was he jealous?

  “No. I shied away from anything that might get serious. I knew I was a ticking time bomb; that this would happen eventually. I couldn’t do that to someone else, couldn’t do it to myself.”

  When he looked up she couldn’t read the expression on his face except to say it was fierce, a little wild. “What about you?”

  His eyes widened. “Me?”

  “Anyone serious?”

  She held her breath, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer or not. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “Never.”

  “Well, looks like—”

  “Can I kiss you?” His words came out in a rush.

  He looked nervous, almost vulnerable, and her heart squeezed. “Yes.” There was no other answer, not for her.

  He scooted closer so her knees pressed into the side of his thigh. He lifted a hand to her face, threaded his fingers through her hair, and then ran his thumb across her cheek.

  “You’re so beautiful, Mia. Inside and out.” His breath ghosted across her lips.

  “So are you,” she whispered back. He shook his head and started to dip his chin, to hide. Mia reached up and ran her fingers over the brand on his cheek. “I’ve never been one to play favorites, but I think I love your lips best.”

  He grinned, and Mia felt like she’d won the lottery. Not much could top that—well, that was until he leaned in and brushed those full, firm lips against hers. She dropped her hand to his side and fisted his shirt, holding on but not touching him, letting him take control. He took his time, kissed her slow and soft. She didn’t push, didn’t try to deepen it.

  He tasted and teased her mouth then ran his tongue across her upper lip, once, twice. He tasted like toothpaste and Heaven, and she opened for him. The kiss went from slow and soft to slow and deep. He reached around her waist, tugging her down, and moved over her, pulling her under him so they were lying on the couch. One hand stayed at her waist and the other cupped the side of her face. The achingly tender way he worshipped her mouth almost broke her heart. This meant something to him, something she didn’t understand.

  He didn’t try to take things further, just continued to kiss her, like they were teenagers, like this was their first kiss. A wonderful revelation they were discovering together.

  When he pulled back a while later, he rested his forehead against hers. “You taste like heaven.”

  And just like that, she was done for. She’d already started to fall for this broken male full of secrets and pain, and with those softly spoken words she let go of the ledge, sailed through the air, and hit the ground with enough force to shatter the walls protecting her heart.

  Jesus, she wanted him, wanted him to be hers. “You taste like all my dreams come to life,” she whispered against his lips.

  He flexed his fingers in her hair and buried his face against her throat. His body trembled slightly and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. “I can’t be your prince, Mia.”

  God, that hurt. She hung on, fought back the tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “I know.”

  He lifted his head, his gaze moving over her face.

  “But I’m not greedy. I’ll take whatever you can give me, for as long as you can give it to me,” she said.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’ll only hurt you.”

  “I know what I’m signing up for. You’ve told me how it has to be, and I’m telling you I want it anyway.”

  He didn’t answer with words. No, he made a sound that was full of need and hunger and had heat curling low in her belly. Finally, he leaned in slowly, so damn slowly, breath puffing roughly from between his lips, an
d he took her mouth. The smooth warmth of his firm lips covering hers was perfection

  He started kissing her with so much anguish and longing it tore her apart.

  His hand moved between them, and he took the hem of her shirt in his trembling fingers. He lifted it, tugging it over her head, and flung it aside. His hands moved to her back next so he could undo and remove her bra. When she was bare, he ran his callused fingers over her sensitive skin. Nothing felt better than having his big hands on her. Nothing.

  Until he bent down and took an aching nipple into his mouth. She cried out when he bit down gently then sucked away the sting. Need pulsed through her, rushing through her veins like a wildfire.

  Oh God, she needed more. She needed to feel his skin against hers, pressed tightly to her own, the heat of it, the texture, the scent of him filling her head. She just needed more of Zenon.

  Reaching down, she tugged at his shirt until he did what she wanted and pulled up, letting her lift it over his head. The sight of all that smooth, cut, inked skin made her mouth go dry. She’d seen it before, but now she took her time. “Can I touch you?”

  He nodded.

  “You’re sure? I won’t if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  “I want you to. Touch me, Mia…please.”

  He watched as she lifted her hands to press against his pecs. She moved them down, keeping an eye on his reaction to her touch the whole time. She didn’t want to do anything that might make him uncomfortable. He sucked in a breath as she trailed them over his abs, loving the silky texture beneath her fingers.

  “Okay?”

  He moaned. “Yes.”

  The tattoo covering the right side of his stomach was unusual, and she traced the lines with her fingertip. His big body shuddered above her, but then he took her hands and moved them back to his shoulders. That’s when she felt them. Fresh scratches marred his already scarred skin. She stiffened.

  Zenon shook his head and wrapped his fingers around the side of her neck, squeezing gently. “It’s not what you think,” he choked. “I promise you that.”