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I avoided his eyes, surveying the office as if I cared about the full-wall glass case behind me filled with weapons from multiple centuries or the floor-to-ceiling mural of beautiful women cavorting naked in a stream. I looked back to him, where I saw the beginnings of a smile form.
“Mr. X, huh?”
“You didn’t give me a name, so I made one. That’s how this goes.”
At least he didn’t ask if you like his painting of all the titties in the creek.
“Who are you to talk to me about needing my name?” The ghost of a smile vanished, and his stare bored into me. We’re doing some weird tug-of-war here that I didn’t understand. He’s the one with the power and wealth here, not little ol’ me.
“Just me, myself, and I. I’ve got to call you something in my head, don’t I? Plus, how else will I write up the billing?” When he didn’t crack a hint of a smile at my lame joke, my cheeks warmed, and I sighed. “Fine. Judge away. I’m alone a lot, okay? I spend a lot of time in my head.”
His smile didn’t return, but at least the hard stare he’s giving me softens. “I imagine you do. It’s likely unavoidable.”
“I’m not asking for pity.”
“No. I can’t imagine you’d put up with that.”
My fingertips find that spot in my breastbone. Tap, tap, tap. My middle and ring finger beat in time with my pulse.
“Can we please get back to business?”
He curled a brow, but didn't answer.
I gave him a dark look and extended my hand, knowing he wouldn’t take it. Nevertheless, I said, “Hi, my name’s Elena Barlow, and you are?”
He observed me for long enough that my skin started to itch under his scrutiny. Finally, he blinked. “Dagon,” he said, his voice nearly a bark.
“Mr. Dagon?” I echoed.
“Dagon Thorn.”
I flashed him a grin.
“See? That wasn’t hard. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Thorn. That’s a pretty badass name. I might like it even better than Mr. X.”
I plopped my ass in a leather chair before his large desk and folded my hands demurely. “With a surname like Thorn, you could be pack.”
He scoffed. “Hardly.”
Thorn leaned forward in his seat and stared into my eyes. That laser-focused glare seared and sizzled into my soul for all the wrong reasons and some of the right ones. One could get lost in those swirls of red, brown, and gold. I realized it for what it was— an attempt to hypnotize and control. Lucky for me, wild child that I am, no one could bind me with anything but love, which is a damn rare commodity these days, especially for me. Still, the temptation lingered to jump into those forbidden pools that radiated lust and the promise of sexual satiety. I gulped, but didn’t lower my gaze.
“I’m nothing like your former pack. I swear allegiance to no one, and I answer to no one.”
I waved off his proclamation. “I’m not asking you to swear allegiance to me. I’m asking you to get this thing out of me without hurting me.”
His eyes gleamed as he inspected me. “There’s only one way to separate it from you without hurting you, but you won’t like it.” He waited for me to ask, but instead, I stared back at him unblinkingly.
“Do you want to hear about the painful ways first?” he said.
My foot tapped a staccato rhythm, but the plush carpet muffled it. “Hmm. Pass. How about instead, you tell me what this thing inside me is so that I can do my own research, Mr. Thorn?”
“You know where to find information on demon runes?”
My brain processed his words, and I flinched as they lodged in my mind. It took a moment before I could formulate an intelligent response because, holy shit, I’ve got a demonic rune in my chest powered by dark magic.
Thorn waited expectantly.
Finally, I shifted in my seat. “I have a demonic dweomer in my chest, and you’re only telling me this now?”
