"Like I'd be stupid enough to believe a demon."
"No, you're only stupid enough to murder one."
No shame. No regret. Only a smile, dark and wicked, that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You say stupid. I say brave."
"But as I was saying," he continued past his sudden surge of rage, determined to scare her again, "I plan to intimately acquaint you with my weapons."
Funnily enough, that seemed to calm her. "You can try" was all she said.
"I'll do more than that." Before she could reply, probably to him again, he switched the direction of their conversation. "You've changed."
Her gaze raked over him, and she grimaced in distaste. "You haven't."
"Aw. Thank you." He flattened a palm over his heart. "That means so much to me."
"That wasn't a compliment," she snapped.
Good. He was getting to her. "Of course it was. I'm gorgeous."
"You're also a coward," she snarled. "A real man would have fought someone his own size."
He almost grinned. He'd been called worse. Maybe that was why insults like that never affected him. "Actually, I'm a very smart warrior. I took the weak link, yes, but now the rest of the chain will wither. Think about it. With your death, the men will go crazy. They'll be ruled by their emotions. They'll make mistakes. Fatal mistakes. All I'll have to do is wait, swoop in and kill them."
She didn't flinch at his words. Either she didn't believe he would actually kill a woman, which was stupid, since he'd done so before and as a Hunter, she had to know that, or she thought herself infallible. Which was...possible, he realized with a sudden blast of dread.
"I know you're more than human." His head tilted to the side as he ran his gaze along her compact little body. "What I don't know is what you are and how you got that way."
"And you'll never know," she replied, staunch once again.
"Doesn't matter, I guess. Even immortals can be cut down."
A smile curved the corners of her lips. Smug and satisfied and taunting. And this time, the amusement reached her eyes. "I know."
Two simple words, but they built a fire inside him that crackled and smoldered, spread and raged. So badly he wanted to stand, stalk to her and choke the life from her. He wanted to hurt her, make her suffer endlessly.
And he would.
He'd always been a possessive man. What he considered his was his. Women, cars, weapons, didn't matter. He didn't share. Ever. And right now he considered this woman his property and her misery his mission.
She was his to do with whatever he willed.
Whatever we will, his demon interjected.
So. Defeat wanted a piece of her, as well. Maybe Strider could share, just this once.
He schooled his expression to reveal nothing but calm. He thought perhaps there were red flickers in his eyes, showing just how close to the surface his demon now was, because Hadiee, no, Haidee, no, Ex, paled, blue lines becoming visible beneath her skin.
Inside his head, Defeat laughed, almost giddy, loving that the woman had been intimidated.
"Capturing you was the easiest thing I've ever done," he said. "Not a challenge at all. You're not much of a warrior, are you? Which makes me wonder why the men keep you around. Because they like to pass you around? Because you managed to kill a Lord, something none of your kind has been able to do again?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Maybe I let you capture me. Maybe I'm still Bait, and now that we're together, I'll lead you into slaughter. But let the men use me? No. I'm with one, and he will punish you for this. You have my word."
"The word of a Hunter? Sorry, but that means nothing to me."
"If you think I'll beg you to let me go, you think wrong. If you think I'll cower at your feet, you think wrong. I will prevail."
"You can try," he said, parroting her earlier words to him.
Her teeth flashed in a scowl. "I'll do more than that. I'll give my man your head as a birthday present."
Most would have been crying by now. She was brave, as she'd claimed, he would give her that. "Clearly you don't know me well enough. To think you'll be alive for your lover's next birthday...well, you are a Hunter. I shouldn't have expected you to be intelligent."
Tendrils of mist drifted from her nostrils. At first, he thought he was mistaken. But no. That really was mist, crystallizing in front of her face. "Oh, I know you," she said. "You're Strider, keeper of Defeat. I've seen your picture, heard tales of your exploits. You burned cities to the ground, tormented innocents then destroyed their families."
The reminder caused a muscle to tick below his eye. "That was a long time ago."
She wasn't done. "You thrive on challenge. You can't lose without pain. Well, guess what? I don't think you can keep me in this room without having to tie me. I don't think you're strong enough."
What. A. Bitch. She wanted to challenge him, did she? She'd soon learn the error of her ways. He stood, stalked to the bed and withdrew a knife. Surprisingly, she didn't flinch as he lowered it toward her. She looked...eager. Ready to die.
What an odd reaction.
With quick precision, he cut each of the ties. Immediately she tried to bolt toward the door, but he caught her by the waist and flung her back onto the bed.
As she gasped, he jumped on top of her, weight smashing her down. She struggled, oh, did she struggle, teeth snapping at him, hands pounding at him, knees whipping a direct pathway to his shaft. Fuck!
He held on through the pain and dizziness and nausea and soon she tired, panting, sweating, more of that mist wafting from her.
That chilly mist smelled of...ambrosia, thick, flowery. Addicting.
"You really should think before you speak. You haven't been fed or watered." Like the animal she was. "You're too weak to take me."
When she stilled completely, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head. He locked her legs down with his own, and his middle fell more deeply into hers, her body offering him a cradle.
She was soft, chilled, almost like champagne on ice. And the scent of that ambrosia... He felt his cock thickening, elongating, and growled, suddenly pissed off beyond measure. "See? Easy," he told her.
She looked at him through the thick shield of her lashes, those gray eyes steady, emotionless. "Round one is yours. That hardly matters."
"Says the loser."
His demon purred with joy. That joy sparked pleasure, and that pleasure washed through him. Ah. That was why he was aroused, he realized; it had nothing to do with the woman. Thank the gods. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he lusted for a godsdamn Hunter.
"What now?" she asked in that calm, dead voice.
"Now," he replied. "We send a piece of you to your boyfriend, then send the rest of you to my friends."
BY THE TIME they reached Lucifer's palace, Amun was useless and he feared he'd weakened his companions. There'd been other battles with demons, yet Aeron and William had had to fight on their own while protecting him. Now they were bloody and bruised and forced to drag him along.
His friends would've been better off leaving him behind.
The new voice in his head...gods, it was worse than any other he'd ever welcomed. So many urges...kill, maim, destroy. Reminded him of his first years with Secrets. So many dark deeds done...so many memories infused with his own.
One of these new memories filled his mind even then. Three human souls were bared and chained before him, each trembling, crying, begging for mercy. He didn't have mercy, however. He was too eager for this. His claws sharpened to deadly points and he slowly raked each tip over the two males, sinking deep, cutting skin and hitting bone, letting the female see what would soon be done to her, increasing her fear. Both men screamed, for his claws were tipped with acid.
That acid burned through the human souls, rotting everything it touched.
Soon their skin turned to char, and that char spread. That's when he flipped them over, one at a time, that sweet scent of rot in his nose, and raped them. Their screaming increased, their thrashing increased, and he laughed. Laughed with true glee. Fun, this was always so much fun.