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Thorn raised his eyebrows.
“Business relationship?” I offered.
Infuriatingly, he shrugged.
“Do you often offer to fuck your business associates?”
He smiled and headed for the door.
Yeah, demon.
“You read my mind!”
He turned and scoffed.
“Not yet, and it’ll never be something I can always do. But things will slip through from time to time, as we grow closer.”
“So never, then. Good to know.”
He held my gaze much too long for comfort. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from those orbs of red, gold, and brown whose swirling sped up as he stared. I’m caught in a mesmerizing supernatural draw coalescing into a thick cord between us. Thorn stood as if he were caught in it, too, and he licked his lips hungrily or perhaps something darker.
I didn’t know Thorn’s demon classification or what evil damage he could execute. I should ask. Thorn would probably take great delight in telling me, but I’m too caught up in those eyes to open my mouth.
Demons have a terrible reputation among shifters who whisper about the creatures as if speaking their names aloud would summon them. And here I am, drooling over this hell’s citizen considering opening my legs for a fun-filled romp. Oh hell, no.
Thorn shook his head. Did I hear him sigh?
“I’ve saved your life twice, Elena, once at significant cost and risk to myself. You stole my magic and brought wolves to my door. Trust? You’re the one who can’t be trusted.”
He turned on his heels with great precision and left the room as if offended.
I fought the urge to chuck a pillow at his head as he exited the room. Everything he said was true, so why does it feel so manipulative and disingenuous?
I dragged myself out of the luxurious bed and checked my face and body for bruises in the full-length mirror in the bath.
Not a scratch. Nothing to denote a snapped neck. Well, nothing I’d classify as an injury, anyway. I pulled off my shirt and bra and looked more closely at the itchy place where I supposedly harbored the demon rune. There, faintly etched, I see the mark of a hand between my breasts. It looks something like a tattoo done in white ink.
I turned and scanned my back in the mirror to find another mark between my shoulder blades. This one is red, shaped like a crown in flames.
Yep. Demon mark, all right.
I now host two demonic marks that meet in the center of my body, with my heart between them. I threw out my hands in the perpetual “what the hell” gesture.
What could possibly go wrong?I shuddered. How the fuck did I get myself into this mess?
I splashed water on my face, put my shirt back on, and trudged to Thorn’s office. Below me, gunmen and the bored assistant take up their usual positions. The lobby displayed no sign that a fight had ever happened, aside from one broken window.
In Thorn’s office, someone cleaned the glass from the weapons case. A bottle of whiskey and two glasses sat on the desk. Thorn rested in a massive leather chair but didn’t look at me. Instead, the demon kept his eyes on the papers on the desk but waved his hand to indicate I should sit. I took the same chair as before, sinking into the leather, and finally, Thorn raised his head to glare at me.
“I don’t appreciate my guests destroying my possessions. That is an antique case, and the glass was over two hundred years old.”
I sat under his disapproving stare and felt like a five-year-old reprimanded for spilling milk on the table.
“Um, sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cover it, Elena. Humans don’t make glass like that anymore. The lead content in it—well, it lent a measure of magical protection to the items within.”
“Look, take the repairs out of my pay.”
