Knight's Redemption (Knights of Hell Book 1) Page 5
“Ignore it.”
His quietly spoken words had the same effect as a gunshot, breaking her from her trance. Tension radiated from him in tangible waves, and the way his jaw had hardened, he looked like he was fighting for control. He was back to being the warrior, and it was terrifying.
And as much as she wanted to turn and run as far and fast she could, she ignored the urge, no matter how tempting it was. Because she believed him. He was the only one who could keep her safe.
At the moment, this man, demon, whatever he was, appeared to be her only hope.
And the longer they stayed, the more danger they were in.
Chapter 5
Eve’s little pink tongue darted out again, moistening her lower lip. He inwardly groaned.
Jesus. All she’d done was touch his arm and he’d been close to jumping her. The curvy little demi in front of him called to his demon, like she’d tuned into the fucker’s frequency and was calling him home to the mother ship.
His need to mark her, to claim her, had reared up, taken him by the balls, and he’d been damn close to giving into it, to throwing her on that bed and taking what was his. Just her touch had lit up every molecule in his body. Christ, it had turned his limbs to mush.
His craving for this woman was illogical in its intensity, but then from what little he’d seen of the mating process, logic wasn’t a factor when a warrior found his female.
Lazarus willed his heated body to cool, more than a little unsettled by his reaction to Eve. Going by the expression on her face, he wasn’t the only one.
Her lips were kind of puffy from her biting at them, and he licked his own, imagining her taste, the warmth and feel of them against his.
He gritted his teeth, stifling another groan.
The urge to claim her came from a primal place deep inside. A part of him that recognized her as his, and it was screwing with his head, not to mention his body.
Hell, maybe he should just fuck her and get it over with?
Taking her now would solve a lot of his troubles. His cock definitely had no problem getting behind the idea and strained painfully against the stiff denim of his jeans.
Eyes bright, cheeks flushed, Eve gazed up at him. Her lips slightly parted, begged to be sucked and nibbled. Hair like silken ebony waves tumbled over her shoulders, and he barely resisted the urge to reach out and touch it.
Was this how she’d look in his bed after he’d fucked her? Images flooded his mind, and this time a groan did slip past his lips.
Her eyes widened and she stepped away from him. “Lazarus?”
Good work, asshole. Now she’s back to being frightened of you.
One touch from her and he’d lost focus again.
This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. He’d been with her for less than an hour and already he was struggling to keep his shit together and had put her in danger. As tempting as she was, he had to remain fixed on his original path. He couldn’t allow this force between them to win. Because this wasn’t for him. He couldn’t keep her.
“We have to leave,” he said before putting even more space between them. Keeping his head straight was getting more and more difficult around Eve. He needed to conduct the rest of this mission as he always did—with cold efficiency.
She nodded and went back to biting her damn bottom lip.
He tore his eyes from her, not sure how to handle this, any of it. How was he going to explain what she was to him? How did you tell someone they were the key to your salvation, your only hope? That your future and that of the free world depended on her leaving everything she’d ever known and accepting him as her mate.
A mate who would leave as soon as he’d taken what he wanted.
A mate who could never love her.
That it was for the best because he would never, not in a million years, be worthy of her.
Eve would not be another sacrifice to this war. And that’s what would happen if he kept her. If he allowed her to get close.
People who got close to him suffered for it. They got hurt.
He’d do whatever it took to prevent that from happening again.
He glanced over at her. Keeping his shit tight wasn’t going to be easy. Besides having to deal with his overwhelming physical attraction to her, he feared his possession was moving at a faster rate. Time was almost up, and he had to find a way to explain the reason he’d come for her without sending her running.
What if she refuses you?
He couldn’t think about that now. Getting her to safety had to be his number one priority. The shadows had crept in earlier, the darkness trying to take another piece of his soul. Eve had seen it, the difference in his eyes as he fought to restrain his demon. He just had to hold off for a bit longer.
And hope like hell she’d accept him.
Ignoring her questioning gaze, he collected her bags and headed for the door. He watched as she looked around her home for the last time, noticed the way she faltered as they passed a large bookshelf, gazing up at the tattered, well-read books.
“Some of them belonged to my mother,” she whispered, like she could hear his unspoken question.
Lazarus didn’t bother with false platitudes. Nothing he could say would soften the blow. As much as it hurt now, she’d get over it. She had to.
Swallowing down guilt, an emotion he knew all too well, he steered her back out the front door. Eve climbed into the car and stared out the window as they drove away. He guessed she was attempting to absorb every detail of the small coastal town she’d called home. But eventually, no matter how hard she tried, most of the memories would fade. Over time they would lose their sharp lines, become fuzzy and distant. They always did.
An image of Scarlet entered Lazarus’s mind. Small and scared. A mass of wild red curls around her grubby face. She’d stared up at him in awe, and instantly stolen his heart. He’d vowed to protect her from that moment on. Even after she’d grown into a strong, independent female—even after she found her own mate—he’d still seen her as his little girl. She might not have been his blood, but she was his, his child in every way that mattered.
She always would be.
No, some memories never faded, and he was grateful for the cutting reminder. He couldn’t afford to make the same mistakes twice.
Any rogue demon could have sensed Eve’s powers and come after her. Lazarus should have expected the attack from that Orthon. He should have damn well been prepared.
How could he have allowed himself to lose focus like that?
Tobias would be keeping tabs on him; he had no doubt about that. The male wouldn’t back off, not until he had his revenge. He’d once been their brother. In Lazarus’s heart, he still was, even though he was lost to them, lost in his own darkness.
Lazarus ignored the inevitable slice of pain that rode shotgun with memories of Tobias and Scarlet; let it settle, cut deeper. It was his price to pay.
He deserved to suffer for what he’d done. For failing them.
Eve didn’t, though, not for his sins.
And she would if he kept her.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter. What if Tobias had gotten close? He could have figured out who Eve was to Lazarus. So far, the other male had been messing with him, biding his time. This was all some sick game to him. But if he had the tiniest notion that Eve was his mate, his fallen brother wouldn’t hesitate to use her to get to him.
Tobias had turned his back on them long before Lazarus or his brothers knew what he planned to do. After Scarlet’s death, after Tobias lost her, his mate, their brother had willingly embraced the demon half of his DNA, letting go of that part of himself that held compassion, a sense of right from wrong—the ability to care for another being. He chose darkness, walked away from his family, and in doing so declared war.
After Tobias left, Laz and his brothers had done their best to block the connection that still tied them together, but that connection worked both ways, and the evil shit he was sending back w
as seriously fucking with all of them, was tipping the scale toward darkness. The only way to sever it permanently was death, and since they couldn’t find him, blocking it, or trying to at least, was their only option.
What they’d managed to do had hindered his ability, but it wasn’t enough. He was using their connection to help him source the demi he could no longer track on his own. If he found out who Eve was, she’d be that much more desirable to him. Shit, the Orthon back at her shop could have belonged to him.
He glanced over at Eve. She had no clue just how important she was.
She sat rigid in her seat, eyes wide as they passed a sign asking them to visit again soon. And dammit, he wished he knew what to say to make this easier for her. But anything he said would be a lie, because as bad as she thought it was now, it was only going to get a whole lot worse.
She took a shaky breath and turned to him. “So where to now?”
The female was strong, a quality she’d need to draw on more and more over the coming weeks. “We have a plane to catch.”
She shifted in her seat. “Where are you taking me?”
“Roxburgh, New York.”
Her fingers tightened on the armrest, her only outward sign of distress. “Why are you taking me there?”
“We have a compound. It’s secluded, outside the city.” He glanced over at her. “Away from prying eyes.”
“We?”
“My brothers and I.”
The color in her cheeks drained, some of that fire he’d seen in her along with it. Defeat, and though she tried to hide it, fear, was now clear in her eyes. “What will you do to me there?”
Yeah, he’d more than earned her distrust and she’d be wise to remain wary of him. Would be stupid not to considering what he might have to do.
But as she stared up at him, lost and frightened, he heard himself say, “Have I hurt you? In any way?”
She flinched at his harsh tone and shook her head.
“And I don’t plan to.”
Her eyes hit his. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
He wanted to kick his own ass. She was afraid of him. Just because he felt the pull of this screwed-up connection didn’t mean she did. And, boy, did he feel it. Deep down he knew guilt fueled his words, because hurting her was exactly what he’d have to do.
Moderating his tone, he tried to reassure her. “I can help you, Eve.”
She sent him a look so full of hope and fragile trust that he wanted to take his own eyes out. It hurt to look at her when she stared at him like that, and before he could stop himself, words were tumbling from his mouth without thought. “I promise I will never do anything that you don’t want me to.” His voice had turned harsh as images of exactly what he did want to do flashed through his mind.
He dragged a hand through his hair.
Why had he said that? Made her a promise he might not be able to keep.
She remained quiet for a few seconds, eyes downcast, staring at her fingers as she twisted them in her lap. “I’m glad I have you here to help me through this.” Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. Then she smiled at him, tentative and sweet.
An erratic thumping sensation stuttered to life in the middle of his chest. The feeling was so foreign it took a moment to work out what had caused it. Any minute now Frankenstein would jump up from the back seat and start yelling, “It’s alive! It’s alive!”
He clenched his teeth. Unacceptable.
The useless damn organ had shriveled to nothing long ago, and that’s the way he liked it. The way he intended to keep it. Dead.
Unable to look at her another second, he concentrated on driving.
She remained quiet the rest of the way, besides the odd question about the compound and what to expect when they arrived. He couldn’t help but be impressed with the way she was handing the situation, a situation that most took a hell of a lot harder than the feisty, intelligent woman sitting beside him.
He was so fucked.
Chapter 6
Numb. There was no other way to describe how Eve felt.
Though, one good thing had come from this nightmare. For the first time since her change, her mind was utterly silent.
Since Lazarus had come for her, she’d enjoyed relief from all that noise, the multitude of thoughts stomping across her battered psyche, and it gave her hope there might be another way. That she might actually be able to gain control over this thing.
The busy Roxburgh traffic thinned as they moved out of the city. A guy named James, also a demi-demon, had been at the airport waiting for them with a car when they’d landed. Lazarus had barely greeted the guy before he’d taken the keys and gotten behind the wheel. He hadn’t said a word since. The plane ride had been much the same. He’d not said more than two words, and scowled the entire flight.
“I’m one of the trainers,” James was saying. “Once I mastered my powers the hunters were so heartbroken at the idea of me leaving they offered me a job.” He turned to face the back seat and grinned at her. “Grown men crying…never a pretty sight. What choice did I have? I stayed.”
Lazarus growled.
Eve smiled back. James seemed nice, not terrifying at all. Maybe this wouldn’t be so terrible.
She’d given up wishing this was nothing but a nightmare. What she’d seen of Lazarus’s powers so far—along with her close encounter of the hideous, freaky-eyed monster kind—pointed away from psychotic episode and made all the crazy stuff that had happened to her impossible to deny.
So she’d made a decision during their flight. She would handle this like any other move she’d had in her life, which had been numerous while growing up. She would accept her new circumstances. Fighting or crying wouldn’t help, it never did. She could do this. She had to do this. She would adapt, like she always did. No problem.
Being forced from her home, taken to a new city by a man she didn’t know anything about—while on the run from demons—which it turns out would like nothing more than to make her their slave.
Yep, cakewalk.
Information overload didn’t cover it, and surprisingly, it was Lazarus’s strong, silent presence that had kept her mind from short-circuiting. It was crazy, and she had no idea why exactly, but she trusted him to keep her safe.
They drove for another twenty minutes before the scenery changed and they entered some kind of industrial area. They passed old warehouses and empty lots. The whole area looked postapocalyptic, or at least what she imagined that would look like. No signs of life, everything abandoned and run-down.
At the end of the block the car turned into a short road and they carried on until Lazarus pulled to a stop in front of a set of steel gates. They were at least ten feet tall, and there was a security camera mounted to the side aimed at them. He slid down the window and pressed his thumb to a small pad.
The gates jolted loudly then groaned into action.
As they slid open, Eve strained to see what was hidden behind the monstrosities.
Oh…wow.
And not a good wow; a where-the-hell-have-you-brought-me wow. A turn-me-around-and-take-me-anywhere-else wow.
The building on the other side looked like something from a horror movie, where the serial killer took his victim to torture them before he finished them off. Besides varying shades of gray, the only other colors she could see were streaks of rust bleeding from large steel framework and washed-out green from the dust-covered weeds struggling up between the cracked concrete that surrounded the place.
Eve shivered. The huge, multistory building loomed ahead, casting an ominous shadow that seemed to stretch toward them like a monster about to devour its prey. Eve actually sucked in a breath when they moved from the light and into the darkness.
She tilted her head back, looked all the way up. The windows had been boarded, and some of the iron cladding hung loose, swinging drunkenly in the breeze, squeaking loudly then clattering against the building.
“What is this place?” she whispered.
> “Home,” Lazarus said without looking back.
Her stomach flipped, and the nerves already tying her belly in knots tightened. Doors slid open in the wall ahead of them and the car tilted forward down a steep ramp into the bowels of the place.
Sensor lights flickered on moments later. They were in a parking garage. Several SUVs like the one they were in were parked there, and she could see a couple of large dangerous-looking bikes against the far wall.
Lazarus climbed out, came around, and pulled her door open. When he motioned her to follow, she realized she’d just been sitting there, too afraid to move.
Eve had to power walk to keep up with his long strides. He stopped in front of an ancient elevator she guessed wouldn’t meet any type of safety code, and she and James walked in after him. He pushed a button, for what floor she had no idea since all the numbers had worn off, and the elevator jarred into action. She stumbled, grabbing for the wall. Lazarus’s hand shot out, catching her arm to steady her so fast the movement was almost blur.
There went those weird little zaps again, right where his hand touched her.
She ignored them and looked up at the numbers above the doors as they lit up, indicating each floor. It ground to a halt on the fifth. Lazarus stepped closer, his hand moving to the small of her back. God, the immense heat radiating off his palm seemed to sear an imprint of that big paw right into her skin through the thin fabric of her dress.
“Home sweet home,” James muttered as the doors slid open.
It took her brain several seconds to register what she was seeing. The interior was nothing like the shabby exterior. It was clean and modern with a lot of chrome and glass. The floors were a shiny black, and she could smell a subtle hint of lemon floor cleaner. It had an institutional feel, and made her nervous all over again.
Several computers were set up around the room, and there was an entire wall covered with monitors. She recognized some of the images from the outside of the building and the underground parking garage.