Thane stopped, hovering in the air some yards away. Perhaps they had heard something about the highly ranked demon that he had not. He called out a greeting.
The game paused, and all four looked over at him. At first, they smiled. But those smiles quickly faded as his identity was discerned.
“You’re part of the Army of Disgrace,” one said.
Thane was beginning to despise that name. “I am.”
“What are you doing here?” another snapped. “This is our territory.”
“Your kind isn’t wanted,” Brendon said, peering down at his feet.
The fourth remained silent, but his glare spoke volumes.
Judgment and disdain, from his own kind, when they had no idea what had shaped him into the man he was. They had no idea what he’d had to do to survive. They had no idea the pain and guilt and shame that constantly stalked his every step—even though he told himself he enjoyed his life, that he liked what he was. And he did.
He did. Because he had to.
The four closed in around him, forming a circle, blocking him in. He could have mentioned Brendon’s own proclivities and called him a hypocrite, and the others would have believed him. Like all Sent Ones, his voice possessed the ring of truth. But he remained silent. He had many, many faults, but he would never ruin another man’s standing with his friends.
He knew how important those friends could be.
“You don’t want to fight me,” he stated calmly.
“Oh, yeah?” The leader raised his chin, all aggression and assurance of success. “And why’s that?”
“I have no honor, and you won’t like what I do to you.” To prove it, he kicked out his leg, nailing the leader in the stomach and making him hunch over for breath. At the same time, he twisted his upper body and, grabbing a sword from the air pocket at his right, swung out. He clipped the bottom of one of Brendon’s wings.
The warrior dropped from the sky, forcing the others to dart after him to prevent him from ultimately going splat. Thane wanted to laugh, but couldn’t force a rise of amusement. He hated that he only received respect inside his club. He hated that everyone outside it mocked him, and drove him to such violent behavior.
As if he needed to be driven.
They’re better than you. They can do whatever they want. He couldn’t even remember what it was like to be untainted by the evils of life.
Whatever. He sped back into motion.
Any luck? he projected into Bjorn’s head. They were bonded so surely, so solidly, distance never mattered.
None. You?
None.
Any luck? he projected into Xerxes’ head.
Yes. Bad. You?
The same.
He had to find and stop Strife before any other human lives were ruined. Unlike some of his brethren, he understood the humans. He sympathized with their weaknesses. He wanted to protect them from the very pain he had endured.
Thane increased his speed. He needed to figure out his next plan of action. To clear his head. To think. Sex was his usual method, but he was used to finding his women in the club. They knew a little about him, what he expected, and he knew they were already on the road to ruination. He didn’t have to worry about destroying their innocence.
But he didn’t have time to fly to the club and fly back here. He would have to risk going to a human club, then. Yes, he decided. He would go to a human club. He would find a woman, the wildest one, have her and figure this out. Surely.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“—CAN’T FLASH,” Nicola heard Koldo say, his voice dripping with all kinds of rage. “You have to continue the hunt on your own.”
He couldn’t flash? She’d just turned the corner into the kitchen, where the men were located, but hearing him say that, she froze in the doorway.
“I don’t mind doing that,” Axel replied. “But I gotta tell you. I’m getting nowhere. Your father leaves zero tracks.”
“He’s been planning this a long time. Before approaching us, he would have come up with a way to avoid detection.”
Neither man noticed her. They sat at the table. And how odd they looked. Two primal warriors, seated so domestically at a hand-carved table, white-and-black-checkered curtains covering the bay window behind them.
“But he’s not smarter than me,” Axel said. “Or is it ‘than I’? I always forget. Anyway. I’ll find a way to draw him out.”
“Hungry?” she asked, finally earning their notice.
Axel squared his shoulders, at attention. Koldo raked a hand over his scalp, as if he were embarrassed. How adorable.
They were wearing identical white tops and pants, the material loose, and they both looked adorable. Like best friends who had made a pact to always do everything together—even dress.
Say that aloud. I dare you. “Well?” she prompted.
“We can feed ourselves,” Koldo said at the same time Axel said, “I’m ravenous.”
“Well, my answer matches Axel’s,” she said. “Therefore, I’ll make something.” These past few days she’d spent a lot of time puttering around in the kitchen, trying new recipes brought to her by Koldo’s friends, and it had been wonderful. She’d discovered a blooming talent she hadn’t expected. Lack of time and money had never allowed her the luxury of even trying.
Axel smirked. Koldo scowled. She gathered dishes and cutlery and the appropriate ingredients for an avocado-and-strawberry salad, and all the while she could feel Koldo’s gaze on her, two white-hot pings drilling into her back.
Was he thinking about last night?
She was. With every glance, every touch, she’d felt the depths of their connection. Something deep, inexorable.
“I’d like to hire you at my place, Miz Nicola,” Axel said. “I have a benefits package I know you’ll love.”
A shuffle of clothing, the squeak of a chair. The pound of bone against bone.
Nicola turned and watched as the two men slammed together and propelled to the ground.
A growl from Koldo. “She’s mine!”
A laugh from Axel. “And I can’t tease you about her?”
“No.”
“Children! Enough,” Nicola said, clapping to claim their attention.
They broke apart, Koldo huffing and puffing, Axel grinning.
“Your jealousy is so cute,” Axel said.
“Just try to leave me,” Koldo threw at Nicola.
I won’t roll my eyes. “Sit.”
Instantly the men obeyed, reclaiming their chairs at the table.