Page 25

And demons were hot-blooded, reckless creatures who loved to die for their pride.

Opening the rear doors, I stood back and aimed my Taser at her torso, waving her out of the back of the truck. “You so much as look at me wrong,” I threatened. “You’re going right back in there, understood?”

Earlier, I’d taken off her hoodie to search for weapons. I would have strip-searched her, except her skin-tight leather jumpsuit had no seams to speak of. It was molded to her long legs and slender torso like a second skin.

Which, it might actually be, considering the fucked-up way demons accessorized.

She glowered at me, her gaze not even a hint less nasty. “What is thewrongway to look at you?” Her words dripped poison. “Are you presuming to tell me what expression I should wear in your presence?”

“How about a smile, kid?”

She plastered on a fake grin, baring two razor-sharp canines. More like a snarl.

“Good girl.” I let the matter drop.

Chewing my lip bitterly, I gave her another once-over—now starting to really not like how pretty she was—then wrenched my gaze off her formfitting jumpsuit and beckoned she follow me toward a second blast door, which led to my dungeon.

Infernarus, my ass.

I’d captured myself a freaking succubus.

From the garage, a narrow, dingy hallway led past my armory into my underground pad. It looked like your typical man cave—black leather couches, big screen TV, fully stocked bar—except for one detail.

Sunk back in the shadows, steel bars cordoned off a holding cell. Inside it rested a thin mattress on a rickety cot and a stainless steel latrine.

Not my proudest moment, building that thing.

Grabbing the demon’s arm, I shoved her inside and bolted the locks. On the other side, she threaded her fingers through the bars and watched me silently. I could sense a deep, soulful despair sinking in behind her blue-violet eyes.

I paused.

It didn’t seem right. I’d built this cell for hardened killers, demons that would crawl out of the dirt in the night and bleed you dry.

Instead, I felt like I was caging an exotic bird of paradise, a creature that shouldn’t be caged.

She was ahealer. The equivalent of a medic.

She had a name.

Lana.

I pushed the thought from my mind. She was still a demon, still unnatural, still evil incarnate.

Theyallneeded to die.

They preyed on human misfortune. Those blood bags I’d found earlier—whomever that blood belonged to would soon find their life fraught with catastrophe. A car accident, a heart attack, a debilitating work injury. What was borrowed had to be repaid... always by humans.

So long as even one demon haunted our world, none of us would be safe.

The demon wrinkled her nose. “I can smell your car’sfumes.”

“And I can smell your evil.” I backed away from the cage, perturbed by my lapse of conviction, and opened the nearby fridge to peer inside. “So what do you eat? Raw horse meat? Blood? Carrion? Little children?”

She inhaled sharply. “You keep little children in that box?”

“Yeah, I cut them up and put them in my stew.” Seeing her aghast expression, I added, “It’s a joke, demon. Sarcasm.”

“Every lie you tell carves out a piece of your soul,” she said.