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“Maybe. But only if they know you’re dead. They may even come here asking questions. They’ll never learn what happened, though.” Teague caught the jeans that Saxon threw to him. Pulling them on, he hid a wince as the denim chafed the fast-healing wounds on his legs. “We’ll never be held responsible for the deaths of you and your unit. Did you forget that we’re damn good at cleaning up after ourselves?”

“I think he did,” said Larkin’s demon, skirting around Teague, a spine in each hand. Pausing near Ronin’s head, it smiled so very, very sweetly at him. Then it shoved a spine into his left shoulder.

He cried out, arching his back, almost choking on a scream.

Flexing its hand around the other spine, her demon held it directly above his head and then looked at Teague. “Can I burst his eyeball?” it asked, no emotion. “I’d like to feel and hear it pop.”

Teague stifled a smile. “Maybe in a few minutes.”

Appearing somewhat disappointed, it used the tip of the spine to peel back Ronin’s upper lip. “I like his teeth.”

Jesus.

Ronin stared at the entity, horrified. “What the fuck?”

It met his gaze and giggled.

Teague couldn’t help but shudder, so he wasn’t surprised when Ronin recoiled from the creepy sound. Eager to get this over and done with, he conjured a lethal orb of hellfire and raised a brow at Ronin. “Any last words?”

He snarled. “I have no regrets about coming for you. I may not have won this duel, but I have won the bigger battle.”

Teague frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you will not be able to stay in this realm,” he replied, his eyes gleaming with delight. “I have exposed your presence here. There is a renege group of fallen angels in Vegas—one of whom might even be an archangel. You and I both know how much angels despise hell-born creatures, don’t we? I left a message at their MC compound. I informed them that hell-born hellhorses have made a home for themselves here, and I gave them the location of your camp. They will come for you.” Ronin lifted his chin, smug as a motherfucker.

Feeling his lips kick up, Teague looked around the clearing, glancing at each face. They all started to laugh.

Ronin scowled. “What could possibly be so amusing?”

Grinning, Viper rubbed at his jaw. “Fallen angels, huh?” He gestured at his brothers. “Yeah, that would be us.” He glanced at Teague. “You didn’t tell me he was funny.”

Teague shrugged. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Forgot about it.” Orb still in hand, he took a few steps closer to the male sprawled on the ground in front of him.

Ronin looked like he’d try to scoot backwards, but the spines held him in place. He lifted a palm. “Wait—”

“No.” Teague lit him up with hellfire. The flames whooshed up his body, covering every inch of him, burning and consuming.

Ronin screamed and screamed and screamed, his body bucking and writhing as much as the quills would allow.

No one spoke. No one moved. They all simply watched and waited.

Or that was the intention, anyway.

Larkin’s demon rammed the chupacabra spine through Ronin’s eye and into his brain. His screams became gurgles, and his struggles turned weak and awkward. Then his flaming body sagged, lifeless.

Her entity wrenched out the spine, pulling out a ruptured eyeball with it, causing blood to spatter across the ground. Then, seeming rather pleased with itself, the demon finally retreated.

Puffing out a breath, Larkin grimaced at the eyeball and tossed the spine aside. She turned to Teague, and her face darkened. “You look awful.”

He hauled her close, ignoring the twinge of his wounds. “You give the best compliments.” He dabbed a quick kiss on her mouth.

Viper eyed his injuries. “Want me to take care of those?”

Teague shook his head. “They’ll heal quick enough.”

She cocked her head at the MC president. “What is that ultraviolet shit you were tossing around earlier?”

“Nothing as cool as hell-ice,” replied Viper. “Nice gift you got there.”

Teague held his hand out toward the president. “Your aid was appreciated, though I think it would be safe to say it was more that you wanted an invite to the party than that you felt compelled to help us.”

His mouth quirking, Viper shook his hand. “You didn’t need our help. You only didn’t argue about us being here because you knew we’d turn up either way.”

“Why did you help tonight?” Larkin asked him. “Really?”

Viper arched a brow. “Why would we fight creatures that come crawling out of hell when they have no business doing so?” He shrugged. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Her brow furrowed. “They tried invading the upper realm when you guys lived up there?”

“More often than you might think.” Viper stuffed his hands in his pockets. “They probably always will, even though it never gets them very far.”

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