Page 7 of The Devil’s Trials (Love in Hell #2)

S EVEN X ANDER

I mistakenly thought securing my council would give me, at the very least, the illusion of preparedness to face my first trial. Though considering I have no idea what it will be or when it’ll come, being entirely prepared feels impossible. Even after meeting with everyone and discussing past trials, there’s still a sense of diving into the unknown.

Since that initial meeting three days ago, I haven’t been able to shake the feeling of something missing. It’s different from the emptiness in my chest, and my thoughts keep wandering back to the moment I discovered I have a sister. Of course, that comes with the arguably ironic fact of her training to become a demon hunter, and one who already loathes me.

But Harper is the only tie I have to my non-demon family, which has sparked some fascination as I find myself wanting to know more about the sharp-tongued human.

Which is why I send Blake to retrieve her while I wait at the safe house, experiencing what I can only describe as nervousness. I shove it down, tapping into the part of me that is disconnected from any semblance of human emotion until I feel steady enough to face her. Closing off to emotions feels easier now than it did when I was part human, as if doing so as a full demon is more natural. That said, I’m acutely aware the nerves I’m experiencing now didn’t announce themselves during discussions with my council. So why is it now, when I’m meeting my sister, that I feel off kilter?

I have no expectation of Harper being anything but furious to see me. That said, I have the confidence to believe I’ll be able to persuade her to hear me out. She’s not leaving here until she does.

An hour later, Harper’s voice has my lips twitching as she curses Blake out from the car to the house. They come through the front door, and Harper’s gaze finds mine in an instant when she tears the blindfold off. I stand from the couch, but before I can get a word in, she turns her sharp tone on me.

“What in the ever-loving fuck is this?” she all but snarls, her blue eyes blazing and her cheeks flushed with anger.

Safe to say, Harper had no idea what was happening when Blake picked her up, much less where and to whom he was taking her. The blindfold was a smart move. I don’t see us staying here much longer, but Blake wouldn’t take any chance of the hunters finding out where we are.

“You think you can summon me with a snap of your fingers, and I’ll be cool about being snatched?”

Something about her presence, despite how livid she is, feels familiar. Perhaps it’s my new power that makes our blood connection feel stronger. Before discovering we share a bloodline, I had no inkling of our relation, but now it’s physically undeniable. I’m drawn to her. There’s a sense of protectiveness that I wasn’t expecting. Though it’s more primal, which isn’t going to earn me any points in the brother department, so I keep it to myself. “Harper—”

“I’m not going to tell you anything about Camille,” she charges on, as if I haven’t spoken. “You’ve wasted your time and taken a risk the size of your ridiculous ego bringing me here.”

I ignore Blake’s chuckle, keeping my eyes on Harper as she stops a few feet away. Her dirty blond hair is tied back, and she’s wearing the all-black uniform of the hunters—a skin-tight jacket, leggings, and runners—so she was either coming from or going to training when Blake grabbed her.

“That’s not why I brought you here,” I tell her.

She narrows her eyes and scoffs, her posture rigid with distrust. The race of her pulse and the wisps of dark fear rippling off her call to the part of me she loathes the most. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

“While I want to know about Camille,” I offer, “the reason I brought you here is to learn about you .”

She blinks at me, her lips parting silently. Then she clamps her jaw shut, swallowing hard. “Is this your idea of a reunion? Because I don’t give a fuck what your psychotic mother said. You and I are not family.”

A tinge of discomfort spreads through my chest as her words land there. She has every right to feel that way. To resent and despise the blood we share.

Blake slips out of the room, offering us some privacy, though I’m sure he’s close enough to intervene if needed. Like if Harper attempts turning me to ash with the obsidian blade strapped to her thigh.

“Would it make a difference if I told you I had no idea what Lucia did to your parents?”

“Are you still a demon?” she shoots back, and I have my answer.

“Because of our father, I wasn’t completely.”

“Don’t,” she snaps, her voice pure venom. “Joshua Gilbert was my father. Not yours.”

I lower my gaze for a moment, exhaling a breath. Perhaps bringing Harper here was a mistake. When I look at her again, my mouth drops into a frown at the shaky hand she now has hovering over her dagger. “I’m not going to hurt you, Harper, but I’m also not going to let you use that on me.”

“Fuck you.” Her jaw clenches when her voice breaks. She’s clinging to a mask of anger, but talking about her parents is clearly a pain point. Still, I’m surprised her fear has all but disappeared. So there must be some part of her that trusts I meant what I said about not hurting her.

Harper steps forward, pinning me with a glare. “If you didn’t exist, my parents would still be alive.”

A low growl rumbles in the back of my throat and I falter unreservedly toward violence in response to her accusation. Suddenly, I’m crossing the space between us, wrapping my fingers around her throat, and squeezing until she begs for air.

I blink to find Harper still staring at me from several feet away, her eyes brimming with malice, and I grit my teeth against the vision of attacking Harper, despite knowing it wasn’t real.

With a sigh, I say, “I can’t bring them back and I can’t tell you why my mother manipulated your father into giving her a human son. He was merely a pawn. Same as I’ve always been.”

She folds her arms over her chest. “Is that why you killed her?”

“It’s why I was determined to send her back to hell like we planned.” Holding her gaze, I continue, “I killed her to save Camille.”

“Ever the white knight,” she remarks in a mockingly dry tone. “You saved her only to leave her in the dark, driving her to flee the state.”

My brows tug closer at the tension unfurling in my chest. I can only think of one place she’d go. “She went to New York.”

Harper’s eyes narrow. “I told you I wasn’t going to tell you anything about Camille.”

I could point out that she just did, but I shrug, reigning in the thoughts that want to race around everything related to Camille. What she’s doing, where she’s staying, when she’s coming back.

“So, what’s your plan now?” Harper’s voice cuts in and pulls my attention back to her.

“That’s not an easy question to answer,” I say in lieu of giving her any real information. Because I know what comes next, but I won’t risk that getting back to the hunters. We may share blood, but there’s a good chance Harper and I will never trust each other. At least not fully.

Harper laughs, and that alone sounds like an insult. “Why don’t you do what’s best for everyone and turn yourself over to the organization?”

My brows lift. “To be slaughtered?”

There’s a pause where Harper appears conflicted by that, as if maybe she doesn’t want me to be killed. It’s gone in an instant, replaced with a hard mask of coldness as she shrugs.

Instead of pushing that point, I veer the conversation toward the two of us again. “You know,” I say in a casual tone, “I’ve always wanted a sibling.”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “I don’t give a fuck.”

I immediately challenge her. “Your emotions are running high for someone who claims to be indifferent.”

“Stay away from my emotions,” she seethes, and her fingers shift closer to her dagger once more.

I hold up my hands, lowering my voice as I shake my head. “Please don’t. I didn’t bring you here to fight.”

Harper pauses, her heartbeat kicking up as her icy facade slips just a little. “Why do you care?” she demands. “Why do you want to know things about me? Whatever twisted idea you have about us bonding or having some kind of relationship isn’t going to happen.” Her voice cracks and her cheeks go pink, as if she’s embarrassed to show anything that could be interpreted as weak. “It can’t,” she adds quieter.

Everything she said makes sense. Harper is one of the highest skilled demon hunter trainees the organization has seen in a long time. The notion that she could have a relationship with her demon half-brother is laughable. Granted, that doesn’t stop me from pursuing it. Perhaps I’m clinging to anything from the newly found—and lost—human part of my life. I can’t say for sure what makes me willing to risk whatever comes along with getting to know my sister, but the desire to have her in my life is something I can’t ignore.

“What would it take for you to drop this pretense of hatred and give me a chance?”

“What pretense?” she shoots back, then presses her lips together for a moment before exhaling a heavy sigh. There’s a stretch of silence before she finally says, “If I agree to a brief conversation, will you agree to let me leave?”

I consider mentioning that I could just as easily force her to stay, but I don’t see that encouraging the civility I’m after, so I nod instead of voicing a response.

“Fine.” She huffs out a breath and crosses the room, dropping onto the couch. I follow, sitting a comfortable distance from her so she isn’t tempted to bolt. “What do you want to know?” she asks, an air of reluctance in her words.

“Everything,” I offer, then amend my answer when she rolls her eyes to, “Okay, anything you’re willing to share, then.”

After pursing her lips in thought for a moment, she says, “I grew up in Seattle. My parents moved there to be closer to my grandparents when they found out my mom was pregnant with me. They took care of me a lot when I was younger, while my parents were on missions with the organization.”

“Were your grandparents hunters as well?”

Harper surprises me when she laughs. “No. They’ve always been anti-government to an obnoxious degree. They also don’t trust any sort of big establishment. You should have seen my grandad the day I showed him online banking.”

My lips curl into a faint grin as an odd sensation spreads through my chest. “I can imagine.”

“It has to be a generational thing. They’d rather keep their money in coffee tins at the back of their closets and pay every bill with cash.”

“But they were supportive of your parents being hunters? Of you?”

“For the most part,” she comments with a shrug. “They appreciated that the organization exists to protect people.” She pauses, her brows pinching closer. “To protect humans.”

“Hmm.” I scratch my jaw. “And when did you meet Camille?”

“Our paths didn’t cross until we were fifteen and hunter training started. We instantly became inseparable—we were meant to be hunting partners before her sister was killed and she left the organization.” She swallows visibly. “But you knew that part already.”

I nod. “And your parents were killed a couple of years later.”

Harper presses her lips together, dropping her gaze, and murmurs, “Yeah.” The unevenness of her voice makes me think I’ve made progress with her, even if it’s marginal.

Perhaps that is why I say, “I’m sorry.”

Harper looks at me again, arching a brow, but doesn’t reply.

“For not being there,” I continue. “For not being your brother when you needed one most.”

“What the fuck do you expect me to do with that?”

I shrug at her defensive tone. “I have no expectations here, Harper. I’m figuring this out alongside you.”

She glances toward the kitchen as Blake struts toward the fridge, then frowns before she says, “I need to go.”

“Not on my account, I hope,” Blake purrs.

Harper barks out a laugh. “Please.” Her eyes cut back to me. “The hunters have been watching me closely since…” She trails off, clearing her throat. “Are you going to stop me from leaving?”

Shaking my head, I say, “I keep my word, Harper. You’re free to go. Blake will take you home.”

“I can get there myself,” she interjects, standing from the couch.

“You have no idea where you are,” Blake points out with a grin that certainly doesn’t help the irritation on Harper’s face.

She shoots him a deadly glare. “Fine. Take me home.”

I get up to pull her attention away from Blake, wanting this interaction to end on a positive note. “Will you let me see you again?”

Her brows draw together as surprise fills her eyes faster than she can attempt to mask it. “I…don’t know.”

“Think about it,” I offer as we walk toward the door.

She exhales a sigh, briefly meeting my gaze. “Okay.” She turns her attention to Blake again. “And you—” she says, crossing the room toward him “If you try the shit you pulled today again, I will take great pleasure in cutting off your dick and shoving it down your throat.”

With that, she walks out of the house, leaving the door open.

Blake doesn’t tear his gaze away from Harper until she reaches his car, then he lets out a low whistle. When he turns to me, the hungry glimmer in his gaze has me shaking my head.

“Watch it,” I warn, caught off guard by the possessive urge filling my chest. It has zero place there, and I have absolutely no right to feel any sort of way about Harper. But that doesn’t change the strange tightness in my lungs at her leaving.

His lips curl into a grin. “Sorry, mate. I can’t help that your sister threatening my most prized asset so violently is such a fucking turn on.”

I roll my eyes and go back to the couch as Blake leaves to take Harper home, locking the door behind him.

My gaze drifts from the TV to the window in the kitchen, where the wind stirs the trees beneath an overcast sky, threatening rain. I turn up the volume on the TV as an attempted distraction, and yet I can’t stop myself from replaying Harper’s words over and over in my head.

You saved her only to leave her in the dark, driving her to flee the state.

…leave her in the dark…

…flee the state.

Harper’s presence effectively disturbed the mental block I’ve been building, and it’s my own damn fault.

No matter where my mind goes, it always circles back to Camille.