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“And maybe he meant it. Maybe he won’t be any threat to you in future.

But Konstantin will remain as your guard.

He is of the same opinion as you, by the way; he believes it was a coincidence that Iain happened to be at the bar the same time as you.

I trust both your judgments. So no, I won’t be confronting Iain over it.

But if he shows up where you are again, it’ll be a different story. ”

“You trust my judgment?”

The surprise in her tone made Luka’s brow pinch. “Yes, I do.”

She cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly in her seat. “Oh. Good.”

And there it was. That hint of vulnerability she tried to hide. One born of rarely having others look beyond her beautiful surface to see the shrewd, intelligent mind beneath.

When it came to sirens, people seemed to assume that they were one-dimensional femme fatales. In his experience, that wasn’t the case. It certainly wasn’t the case with Naomi.

His siren was no pretty, empty-headed ornament. She had more layers than an onion. She was sweet, quirky, caring, cunning, merciless, grounded, independent—on and on it went. She was a whole juxtaposition of traits, really. Didn’t fit in any one box.

She’d very quickly reeled him in, making his possessiveness grow and grow. His entities were in much the same boat, as evidenced by the many brands on her skin.

She currently wore a long-sleeved tee, so Abraxas’ marks—the matching bands it had left on each of her upper arms last night—weren’t visible. Something that annoyed the demon. It wanted everyone to see them.

Normally, Luka wouldn’t welcome being branded, but it admittedly bugged him that he wore none from her entity. According to Naomi, it hadn’t ever branded anyone; it simply wasn’t bothered about even temporarily claiming people as part of its circle, no matter how territorial it felt toward them.

Luka’s demons felt sure that her entity was possessive of him.

Abraxas’ theory was that the demon was waiting for something.

It couldn’t sense what, though. It only knew that a certain thing needed to happen—or maybe that Luka himself needed to do this certain thing—before the entity would lay any claim to him.

He couldn’t imagine what this “thing” could be. He had too many unanswered questions about the creature before him. “Abraxas believes that your demon is waiting for something from me.”

Naomi paused in the process of setting down her cup.

“It thinks that your entity won’t act on any possessiveness it feels toward me until I give it what it needs. The look on your face confirms that that’s true. So my question is . . . what exactly does it need from me?”

She carefully placed the mug back on the table. “I can’t explain that right now.”

“Why not?”

She hesitated. “My answer wouldn’t make much sense to you, so you’d only find yourself with more questions.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t at least tell me what it wants from me. I won’t pressure you to elaborate beyond that.”

Her eyes narrowed. “All right.” She exhaled heavily. “Acceptance. It needs you to accept . . . something.”

“Something about you, or something about your entity?”

“Both, really. That’s the most I can say on that, though. At least for now.”

At least for now . Those words should have appeased him to some degree, but they didn’t. She had been right in her prediction that he’d only want to hear more.

With the women in his past, he had always been the one with the secrets.

It had eventually gotten to a point where said women had wanted him to open up.

He’d never understood why it bothered them so much that he hadn’t shared every little detail of his life with them.

Now, he got it. Because now, he was invested in something; in some one .

“I can see that you’re tempted to pressure me to tell you more, but you swore that you wouldn’t,” she reminded him. “You also once promised my demon that you wouldn’t push if you hit on something I couldn’t or didn’t want to share.”

Yes, and he was regretting it.

“But hey, if you really want us to start sharing more personal stuff with each other, I guess we could. I am ever so curious about the inner workings of the criminal empire you so successfully run.” She lifted a daring brow, knowing full well that he wouldn’t elaborate. It made Belial want to bite her.

“You know how to shut down a line of questioning, don’t you?” Imps were experts at it, and his siren had evidently picked up their tricks.

She only smiled.

His attention shifting to those full and oh so bitable lips, he said, “Come here.”

Her brow pinched. “Why?”

“Because I want that mouth.”

“Then come get it.”

“Are you sure you want me to do that, Naomi?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It might end with you getting bent over this table while Belial fucks you from behind, and then you will get a hot ass.”

Naomi’s lady bits predictably perked all the way up. “I’ll take my chances.”

That turned out to be a mistake on her part. Because she did get hammered by the entity, and it did spank the hell out of her. Although . . . she supposed she couldn’t really call it a ‘mistake’ since she’d admittedly enjoyed it despite herself.

More, Belial left another brand on her. A brand of its handprint, right on her butt. And when she ranted at it, it only gave her a sadistic smile.

She felt her lips thin. “Sometimes, I could swear you’re trying to provoke my demon into branding you right back.”

The entity shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”