“That sounds exceedingly unpleasant. Surely, seeing as we have only just met, you do not truly mean it.”
“I mean every word, Devil.”
“That would be my brother.” He is as close to the Devil walking among us as there is. “I think you may have us confused.”
“I don’t care which one you are, as long as you’re no longer breathing.”
“Do you intend to kill us all, then?”
“Yes.”
We fight on. She grunts and huffs in frustration each time I deflect her strikes.
She is skilled. Has been artfully trained. But she’s nowhere near capable of killing any of us. Why she’s so determined to try is what interests me most.
That is why I ended the game.
I need answers more than I need sport.
Preferably, while her mind isn’t fully occupied with chopping off my head.
A flash of triumph almost touches her lips as she prepares to drive her blade into my chest. It is very gentlemanly of me, I know, to allow her to revel in a moment of false hope. But I do it just the same.
Mid-rush to impale me, I sweep her leg and send her stumbling to her knees.
She is already twisting to recover, blades lifting, but my arm bands around her waist, trapping both of her arms against her sides. Her blades hang uselessly by her thighs as I draw her back against me. I lift Luxor and slide the edge to the hollow at her throat.
My chest burns with a different kind of heat when she’s captive against my much larger frame and completely at my mercy.
“Now,” I murmur near her ear, “if you would stop for one blissful moment and listen, little one, you might learn that I have no wish to harm you as you do me. But continue fighting, and your measly human life will end here and now. Is that what you want? To die?”
Her body is small and warm. Her curves, unnoticeable beneath all that fabric, are far more obvious with her pressed flush against me. Every slight twitch and labored breath I feel on a level that is, to be honest, quite disturbing in the best of ways.
My body responds to her proximity against my will. I have to make a conscious effort to tamp down the dark and heady desires rising within me.
“Do you yield?”
Her thoughts churn. I sense defiance, but her words ease the tension a heartbeat later.
“Yes. For now.”
That’s a good girl.
At my declaration, she struggles anew and tries to break free. But I hold firm as a wicked grin splits across my face. Leaning forward slightly, I draw in a slow breath, finally taking in the scent I have imagined for far too many nights.
My voice lowers, roughened. “I hope you had nothing important to see to, because your outlook for the foreseeable future is looking quite bleak.”
“What? What the hell does that mean?”
“It means, little dove, that you’re coming with me.”
There are matters I need to see to, city problems to resolve, and I have many questions in need of answering. Her willingness to give me the answers I seek will determine whether she walks beside me—or not at all.
It seems we have a few things to work through, and her compliance will earn her leniency. Her disobedience, the opposite.
Chapter Eleven
Captive
