Knight's Dominion (Knights of Hell Book 4) Page 3

  Grace allowed her guard to drop. "I'm good at blocking. Excellent, in fact.” Which was the truth. She’d had to be. These females didn't need to know that she didn’t possess an actual power, that being proficient with a crossbow and being able to kick ass was all she brought to the war.

  Grace leaned forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “Look, what I'm about to tell you is going to sound crazy. But will you hear me out before you run off or make an offhand decision?"

  Mia did some more frowning. “Of course."

  Eve and Meredith studied her for a few seconds, then both nodded.

  Right. Here goes. "I'm part of a select group of demi from all over the city. We have different reasons for why we came together, but we all want the same thing, have the same goal. We hunt and kill the demons invading our city and I’d like Eve and Meredith to join us.”

  Mia’s gaze sliced to her friends, and they all did that eye-widening thing again.

  "You don’t have to decide right now, of course. But this fight is going to get a lot worse before it gets better, and we need all the help we can get. You can both fight, and I can sense whatever your powers are, they're impressive. You're exactly the kind of demi we need in this war." She glanced at Mia. “Obviously, you’re out. I can’t imagine Zenon would want you fighting, but maybe Eve and Meredith are interested?”

  Mia's lips tipped up on one side. "It's you. You're the one, huh?"

  Grace said nothing. She didn’t need to.

  "Look, since you told us who you are. I think it's only fair we do the same,” Eve said and glanced at Meredith.

  Meredith nodded.

  Eve winced. "We don’t have husbands. We have mates."

  Fuck.

  "My mate’s name is Lazarus.”

  “And I’m mated to Kryos,” Meredith said. “I think you’ve met them?”

  I’m dead.

  Yep, Lazarus, Kryos, and probably Zenon as well, were going to make mincemeat out of her.

  "Right." What the hell could she say? She'd just propositioned the females of two of the deadliest and frankly unstable males she'd ever come across. Several seconds ticked by, but she didn't miss the emotions that flashed across their faces.

  “You're going to tell them I talked to you?” Grace said.

  Eve looked up to the ceiling and let out a breath. "I think you're amazing. What you're doing is so brave, the guys think so, too…but we don’t keep secrets from each other.”

  In other words, be ready for the fallout.

  The knights thought she was brave? The female was obviously trying to be nice, because she knew of one knight who certainly didn't think she was brave. Immature? Yes. Reckless and stupid. Absolutely.

  "If it wouldn't send Zenon over the deep end, I'd join you in a heartbeat," Mia said.

  Grace was already toast, so she may as well dig her own grave. "Your mates don’t need to know. We look out for each other, we have each other’s backs. You could use a block so they don’t know it’s you. Plus, we conceal our identities.” Well, she had until the other night. Why the hell had she taken off her mask and shown Chaos her face?

  “You don’t know how badly I want to say yes,” Eve said.

  Meredith tucked her dark blond hair behind her ear, her hazel eyes earnest. “Every time Kryos comes home bloody and exhausted, I feel so helpless.”

  “But our hands are tied, right now,” Eve said. “And I won’t lie to Lazarus.”

  Grace held her gaze. "I can respect that.”

  “But we think you’re amazing. Don’t stop fighting,” Mia said.

  "I’ll never stop. And you know where to find me if you ever change your minds.”

  Grace watched the females leave.

  Chaos would come for her after this.

  By the time Grace got to Revelry, the place was filling up and the regulars had taken their usual spots for the night. She headed out back to the dressing rooms. A few other girls were there putting on makeup and getting their costumes on.

  Vince had decided on a burlesque club because he said it made the place sound classier. Only the rich and influential residents of Roxburgh need apply for membership—if you told people something was exclusive enough times, they believed you and wanted in.

  But really the only difference between Revelry and one of the strip clubs on Emery Square was the fancier costumes. Vince made sure to deliver burlesque style down to their very shoes. Yeah, there was the occasional comedic act, and they did some group dances that involved them all performing a striptease, à la 1950s, with a lot of fake fur and faux diamonds.

  But at the end of the day, they took their clothes off for an audience.

  Grace would be just as happy dancing for Joe Schmo on Emery instead of Roxburgh’s elite.

  Emery Square was made up of four streets. It surrounded a park that the city had created in an attempt to drive out the local strip clubs, massage parlors, and adult shops in an effort to “claim back” the area. The venture that failed miserably because the good people of Roxburgh didn’t want anything to do with that part of the city. Instead it had become a hive of nighttime activity. Mainly fucking and fighting, but also a favorite hangout for sex demons, and an excellent hunting ground for Grace and her crew.

  "Has anyone seen or heard from Tina?" Grace asked.

  "Nope." Laney finished applying glossy, pink lipstick. The color matched the bows at the top of her white stockings. "But Vince was bitching about being a girl down."

  Laney was their resident Bo-Peep. Not very original, but the guys loved it. Then again, Laney could wear a sack and the men would throw money at her.

  Like most of the dancers, Tina was a demi. She was also a bit of a loner, which seemed to be a common trait among their crew of fighters. Few had blood family or friends outside their own little dysfunctional family they’d created at Revelry. They may not live in each other’s pockets, but they loved—and would die for—each other and their cause.

  There could very well be a good reason why Tina had up and taken off. It wouldn't be the first time one of the girls had run away from this life, and she doubted it would be the last. But Tina was solid. The war was as important to her as it was to Grace.

  The room cleared out, and she pulled her phone from her purse and texted Mark again. Tina?

  His replay came a few seconds later. No word.

  Dammit. She needed to go to Tina’s apartment and make sure she wasn’t there sick or hurt.

  The door opened, and Vince strode in looking kind of wide-eyed and twitchy. “Hey, Gracie?”

  “What do you need, Vince?" She gave him shit, and not strangling him on a regular basis was a test of her control, but the older demi had become a kind of father figure, not only to her, but to a lot of the demi working for him.

  He slid his hands into his pockets, looking more anxious. “I have a special guest coming tonight. I thought you might entertain him for me?”

  “Did you now.” She inwardly groaned. This was obviously important to him, which meant some rich asshole that Vince was desperate to get close to.

  "Oden's coming in tonight, and I thought you could make him feel special, show him some of that Gigi Fury magic,” he said.

  Oden. Just Oden. Like the fucker thought he was Prince or Madonna or Rihanna.

  The powerful demi owned half of Roxburgh. He also had a reputation. Someone not to be crossed. Which meant, he could be useful. “Fine, but you owe me.”

  He grinned. “You’re my favorite, you know that, right?”

  “There was never any doubt.”

  He chuckled. “So you’ll make Oden feel welcome?”

  She most certainly would. Schmoozing the wealthy and influential was one of the reasons she continued to work here. There were demi in this war who couldn’t physically fight, but still wanted to help. Despite Oden’s reputation, he might be able to provide useful intel, resources, manpower, maybe even a donation to the cause, if she got him on her side. Males like him loved to talk about the
mselves, throw their money around.

  To most she was just something nice to look at, and that worked in her favor. It was amazing how much you learned about a person—how loose tongues got—when you were grinding on top of them and shaking your tits in their face.

  She would do whatever it took to get more demi on their side, and fighting against the demons in this city.

  She smiled sweetly. “Of course.”

  Vince was the other reason she stayed here. He’d given her and many other demi a home, a job, when they’d had nothing and no one else. He’d believed in her ability to fight, had encouraged her when she’d sought out others like her—demi sick of sitting back doing nothing while the knights failed them. There was no one she trusted more. He’d seen her at her worst, knew all her secrets. Well, all except one. Her stomach twisted.

  Vince’s phone buzzed. “Oden’s here early.” His eyes lifted to hers, pleading. “I don't want anyone but you with him."

  He also wouldn’t be on board with her recruiting his customers to her cause. She kept that part to herself as well. She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll go now.”

  Relief washed over his face, and she followed him from the dressing room.

  Laney was on the stage near the end of her performance, her Bo-Peep outfit gone except for her stockings, a pink garter, and tasseled pasties.

  Nearly every set of eyes in the room were on her.

  Grace scanned the crowd, spotting her friend for the evening.

  Oden. His eyes weren’t on the stage. They were on Grace.

  He sat in a corner booth, sipping what had to be their top-shelf whisky. His gaze, the darkest of blue, almost black, glittered as she approached. Tingles, unpleasant ones, danced down her spine, an uneasy feeling making her want to turn around and walk the other way.

  She had no idea why she was reacting that way, and honestly, it just made her more curious about him. She stopped in front of him, and knew she'd picked the right outfit by the hungry look on his face as he took her in from head to toe.

  Her panties matched her beaded, dusky pink corset that cupped her modest breasts, pushing them up and making them look bigger than they were, and hugged her ribs, defining her waist and curving over her hips. The attached garter held up her natural-colored, silk stockings. They had small dusky pink frills that ringed the tops of her thighs and a seam at the back that led down to her spike-heeled, platform stilettos.

  She smiled.

  He said nothing, just stared at her.

  Ice sliced through her belly. “I’m Gigi.”

  "Vince’s told me all about you,” he said, his oddly perfect features not moving, showing no emotion at all. “You’re exquisite."

  "Thank you, Mr. Oden."

  He held out a hand and she took it. He gently tugged her closer, until she had no choice but to climb onto his lap.

  His hands went to her hips and his nearly black eyes glittered. "Yes. So very beautiful."

  “I’m glad you think so."

  “Are you going to dance for me, Gigi?”

  “If that’s what you’d like,” she said. The urge to run, to get the hell away from him, grew.

  He dipped his chin.

  She attempted to climb off him, but he gripped her hips tighter.

  “Here,” he said.

  He wanted a lap dance. Not her first. She did them from time to time, especially if she thought she could extract information—a lot of the girls did. It wasn’t a big deal, but something about Oden set off all her alarm bells.

  Which told her this was exactly where she needed to be.

  She forced a coy smile and straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Then lifting up to her knees on either side of the padded bench seat, so the tops of her tits brushed his chin, she rolled her hips.

  He tugged her back down so she had no choice but to sit on his obvious erection. He was hard, but the expression on his face was still carved in stone as he watched her. It was unnerving.

  The music was slow, sensual, and she moved her hips to the lazy beat, grinding down as she leaned back, exposing her throat and pushing her tits out further. His hands skimmed up her sides and stopped just below her breasts.

  She winked when his gaze darkened in a way that made her blood freeze and slid off his lap. Spreading his knees before he could protest, she spun around, then bent forward. Reaching back, she brought his hands to her hips, letting him draw her back in close where he wanted her, rubbing her ass against the poker in his trousers.

  He spun her around, forcing her to straddle him again. His dick was so hard she knew he had to be hurting, but that terrifying expression was still carved in stone, the only change was a slight tinge of color on his cheeks.

  His fingers dug in roughly. “Don’t stop,” he said, his voice deeper, darker.

  One of his hands slid up her back and he fisted her hair. She looked over his shoulder and saw Vince watching. He looked on edge, chewing his nails to stubs. She’d seen that look on his face before. Something more was going on here. Goddammit. So instead of burying her blade in this fucker’s eye socket, like she wanted to, she forced herself to stay where she was. “You like it rough, baby,” she crooned.

  His black eyes boring into hers. “Yes.”

  She’d thought Oden’s reputation had been exaggerated. But every instinct she had told her that it had not. Getting involved with this male in any way would be a huge mistake.

  She bit her lip and rolled her hips. “Are you and Vince going into business together?” If Vince was climbing into bed with Oden, they’d all need to be doused in Lysol at the end of it. And there would be an end. To men like Oden, Vince was disposable.

  His grip tightened, telling her without words he was not in the mood to talk about business.

  “You’re pretty rich, huh? Is it something to do with the club?”

  She knew she'd pushed it when he tugged her head back. "You ask a lot of questions."

  She raked her fingernails down his chest. "What can I say, power turns me on."

  "Let's go somewhere private."

  She was a dancer, currently rubbing against the guy like a cat in heat. It wasn't a stretch to assume she'd be up for it. It wasn't the first time she'd been asked to cross that line, and it wouldn't be the last.

  "Sorry, honey. That's not part of my job description."

  "You're a tease. I don’t like to be teased.”

  His fingers dug in painfully, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing it on her face. Instead she moaned. “I think you're enjoying it just fine." She moved faster, ground harder, let the music thumping through the room take over.

  She had to force herself not to gag when he wrapped an arm around her waist and shoved her down on his dick, thrusting up against her.

  Shit, was he going to...

  His eyes rolled back in his head.

  Yes, apparently, he was.

  Grace wanted to shove the creep away, slam her fist in his face, but Vince was still watching them, still looking worried. It was obvious the idiot was up to his eyeballs in something that reeked, and it had everything to do with Oden. If he was in some kind of trouble, punching the fucker holding her painfully tight, while he dry humped against her could make things worse, so she forced herself to endure it as he upped his efforts, ramming his dick against her inner thigh repeatedly.

  If he wanted to walk out of here with a wet patch on the front of his pants like a sicko perv? Fine with her.

  He made a rough sound and shuddered against her.

  So fucking gross.

  “Like an audience, huh?" she said, still on his lap when she wanted to jump the hell off and take a shower to wash off the smell of his sweat and overpriced cologne.

  "How much?” he said as he ran his thumb across her lower lip, stretching the skin painfully, and smearing her lipstick.

  "I'm not for sale."

  His jaw tightened. “Everyone has a price.”

  She smiled and began to ease off his l
ap. His fingers gripped tighter for a second before he let her go. “It's been fun, Mr. Oden,” she said.

  His gaze traveled over her curves. “Just Oden.”

  She nodded and backed up several steps, not wanting to turn her back on him. He was a predator, there was no doubt about it. Finally, gaining some distance, she spun and headed across the now full club.

  When she found Vince again, because he was suddenly nowhere to be seen, she'd brake his goddamn arms, followed by both his legs. He was so far out of his league it wasn't funny, and if he thought he could whore her out to get in good with his new buddy, he was in for a major wake-up call.

  But her plans to beat Vince’s ass were waylaid when a wall stepped out in front of her. A hard, hot, growling, very pissed-off wall.

  She'd been expecting him, but...

  Fuck.

  Chapter 4

  Chaos clamped his hands down on warm, bare flesh. The skin beneath his fingers was smooth, supple. The muscle of her upper arms, firm and defined. Jesus, that corset barely covered her nipples, the mounds of her modest breasts forced up and together. And if she turned around, he had no doubt he’d be able to see the curve of her ass cheeks.

  She looked up at him, defiance clear in her mahogany eyes.

  The female was maddening…tempting.

  And right then he wanted to throw her over his shoulder, walk out of this place, and spend hours punishing her—for attempting to recruit more demi into her little army and risking the lives of more ill-prepared civilians. But most of all, he wanted to punish her for what he’d just seen her do with fucking Oden.

  Why the hell do you care?

  He bit back a growl as she lifted her chin, looking up at him, and all that pale gold hair fell back, brushing her waist. She smirked. “How’s the nose?”

  His groin tightened. What the hell was it about this female? After what he'd just witnessed, he felt like a sleazy bastard, no better than all the other panting, desperate males in this room mentally fucking the hot blonde staring up at him.

  “You never trained at the compound.” He would have remembered if she had. All demi-demons trained with the knights when they came into their powers. Grace had not.