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Logan lunged forward, pounding into his father with relentless precision, using every sense he possessed to hunt his father like an animal in the small cage. He pressed forward, digging deep and finding the kind of strength that only comes from desperation. He fed from the darkness in the chamber, from the love and pain inside him. Logan used everything he had as he pummeled Santos with blow after blow—using both his fists and the metal rod.
And when he finally brought his father to his knees, Logan followed him down, nearly spent. Santos was breathing heavily. He was a bloody, ripped up mess of flesh and exposed bone. A low rumble sounded from inside his father’s chest as Logan stared at him—both men, face to face.
“I will crush you the way I should have crushed you when you were days old.” Santos ground out as the air around him solidified into magick and shadows.
“You can try,” Logan sneered, knowing his insolence would do more for him now.
Santos’s eyes were wild as the beast inside him blurred and melted with his human form. Insanity shone there—a thirst for something just out of reach—and in the end it cost him.
The minute Santos shifted into his hellhound form, the small demon who’d started the festivities appeared, his form dwarfed by Santos. The hellhound snapped his great jaws, the eyes burning red as it tried to get to Logan but he was unable to. Magick held him in place and eventually Santos quieted as he realized his error. The moment he’d shifted, he’d forfeited any hopes of winning the match.
The master of ceremonies turned to Logan and held his gaze for several long moments as chaos rained down on them. He nodded and said simply, “You are free to go.”
The cage walls disapp
eared and so did Santos. Logan cracked his neck and turned his beaten, tired body toward his brother. Zane was quiet and Logan followed his brother down the catwalk, ignoring the shouts of glee and congratulations from the crowd.
The two brothers made their way to Lilith’s chambers. Logan could just make her out—his vision was still blurry—but he ignored her and went straight for the boy. The small child cowered in Kraghten’s arms and Logan knelt down, knowing his bloody, sweaty appearance wasn’t helping things.
He waited until the child settled and then held out his hand, palm up. “Do you want to see your mommy?”
The small boy slowly nodded, his tear-stained face anxious and scared.
“Come with me then.” Logan smiled. “I promise everything will be all right.”
Kraghten released the boy and Logan scooped him up.
“Well done,” a voice said from the shadows.
Logan paused and stared into the darkness. He knew Samael was there. He could smell him. He nodded, and then strode from Lilith’s chambers, his brother Zane following in his footsteps.
And less than five seconds later he’d left the Hell realm behind for the last time.
Chapter Thirteen
* * *
THE BLUE LADY was a smoky, jazzy place filled with soft, sensual music. Kira sat at the bar, twirling a straw inside a tall, cool glass of lemonade. The bartender—the young man she’d followed inside—had given her the glass an hour earlier.
Or was it only minutes earlier?
It was hard to tell because Kira couldn’t shake the feeling that things were off here. She felt like she’d only arrived, but then she remembered seeing some of the customers come and go and then come again. Weird.
She’d eaten a hearty meal of stew and bread and she’d also enjoyed the most amazing strawberry shortcake ever.
And still the lady in blue hadn’t arrived. She wasn’t sure what to do, and whenever she asked the bartender about the woman, he just smiled and nodded and said that everything was going to be all right.
She sighed and glanced around the full bar. A lady sang from the stage, her voice strong and sure. She sang a song about love and loss, and the melancholy notes tugged at Kira’s heart. Unsure of her next move, she stayed at the bar and people-watched, trying not to panic or think about Logan.
The door opened—she felt the chill of the winter’s night—but she paid no mind. The door had been opening and closing steadily ever since she arrived. Which, now that she thought about it, had been at dawn.
The bartender glanced up and something about his expression made Kira turn around. A man stood just inside the doorway. He was tall, well built, with a powerful frame. His dark hair hung in waves to his collar and—as he stepped into the light—everything about him was beautiful. She slid from the bar stool and took a step forward but then stopped. Her legs felt rubbery and she wasn’t sure she’d make it across the room.
There was no need, because the man strode over to her without pause and scooped her into his arms, holding her against his chest like she was the most precious thing in the world.
“Logan,” she gasped through tears.
And then his mouth was on hers, his lips demanding as his tongue slid between her teeth and sought her warmth. She groaned and melted into his embrace. She tasted his desperation. His need. His love and his sorrow.
