reservation.
Without dragging his swirling eyes from Reyes's gaze, Lucien wrapped his fingers around Reyes's.
At the moment of contact, a lightning spear slammed through his entire body. Every muscle he possessed clenched and unclenched as though hooked to a generator, volts of pure, electrical power pumping through his bloodstream. Heat slithered around him, a python holding on to a meal, tightening more and more until he could no longer breathe. Felt so good, the pain. He squeezed his lids shut, savoring. His demon purred.
His mind blackened for several heartbeats, a dark shroud covering every corner. Then pinpricks of light formed, growing…growing…An image winked into place, not yet cohesive. Just an outline. And then, suddenly, he could see Danika lying on a bed just as he'd imagined all these weeks. Except she wasn't a fair goddess spread and waiting for his pleasure. She was shackled to the bed, her once-pale hair cut and dyed.
She was trembling. Tear streaks had dried on her cheeks, and she'd nibbled on her lower lip so forcefully that tiny droplets of blood had beaded. In that moment, rage was like another demon inside him. Danika was a woman meant for pleasure and light, not darkness and fear.
'She does not look well.' Lucien released him and stepped away, taking the vision with him. 'The longer she is with them, the more harm they can do to her. I followed the dead Hunter's body to a funeral home, stayed there in spirit form and watched as Hunters came to visit. They unknowingly led me straight to Danika. They know she killed their friend. Apparently they've had her since the night of the stabbing. They have her chained to a bed and have kept her asleep. She is unable to fight them like that, is helpless, vulnerable, a—'
'Yes!' Reyes's arm fell to his side. He was panting. 'Yes,' he repeated. He didn't have to think about what to do any longer. 'Give me Danika and I will give you Aeron.' Perhaps this was the answer to his torment. Save Danika, protect her and help restore Aeron to his former self, reminding the warrior of what he had once been. Though how he would accomplish the latter, he still didn't know. 'But I will have your word that when he is brought here, he will be given the solitude he craves.'
'You have it.' Lucien nodded, grim. 'Know that I do this partly because Anya thinks Danika can lead us to one of the artifacts. And doubt me not. When the girl is here, I
'And doubt
'First tell me you understand that we might save her now, only to lose her later. I will not have you blame me if—'
'She will not die.' He wouldn't let her. 'No more talking. Take me to her.'
After the…the…attack—
A group of strange men had been waiting for her, standing in the shadows next to the fire escape as though they'd known what route she most often took. As if they'd been watching her for days and knew her habits.
She could have fought one or two. Even three. But there had been six of them, all bearing the same figure- eight tattoo on their wrists as the man she'd—she'd—she couldn't even think the word now. They'd possessed the same tattoo as the man who'd died in that dirty alley. They'd overpowered her, knocked her out.
When she'd first opened her eyes a little bit ago, her hope that the men were cops and she might make bail was completely dashed. Cops did not chain women to strange beds. Who were these men? What did they want with her?
Nothing good, that much was clear. Panic bloomed inside her chest, freezing her blood. Her ears rang with fear. Her jaw ached from the knock it had taken. Her strength was depleted, hunger gnawing at her. She had trouble drawing in a breath, her airways too constricted.
Reyes's doing? she wondered, not knowing what to think about that. He had kept her in comfort, too.
No, not Reyes, she decided in the next instant. He wasn't the kind of man to send others to do his dirty work. He would have been there, would have subdued her himself. So who had taken her? she wondered again. Friends of the man she'd…hurt, obviously. Those tattoos…
Did the men mean to punish her for hurting him? Did they mean to rape her? Torture her? Oh, God. Did they think she was a hooker, too, and plan to sell her services?
Tears burned in her eyes. Right now she was alone. She continued to work at the chains, minute after minute dragging by. Sweat poured from her and soaked the sheets underneath her. The more she moved, the more her clothing pulled away from the metal bands, no longer acting as a block. Soon her skin was sliced and blood oozed from her wrists and ankles.
A knock sounded.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she pursed her lips to silence a whimper. She stilled. Should she pretend to be asleep?
The room's only door creaked open, revealing a tall, average-looking male. She couldn't force her eyelids to close. Could only stare at him, taking his measure. He wore a white button-down shirt and black slacks and looked to be in his late thirties. He had brown hair, which was combed from his face. His eyes were large, green like hers. He appeared very professional, very unmurderer-like. Calm, perhaps even friendly.
That didn't lessen her terror.
Danika swallowed the sudden lump in her throat.
'Good. You're awake.' With barely a pause, the man added, 'Relax, my dear. I have no plans to hurt you.'
'Unchain me, then.' The pleading quality of her voice stripped away every effort she'd made to appear strong.
'I'm sorry.' He sounded genuinely upset. 'The chains are a necessity.'
'Just let me go and—'
He held up one hand, silencing her. 'I'm afraid we don't have a lot of time. My name is Dean Stefano. My friends call me Stefano, so I hope that you will, as well. You are Danika Ford.'
'Let me go. Please.'
'I will, just not yet.' His brows disappeared into his hairline. 'Let's cut to the heart of the matter, shall we? What do you know about the Lords of the Underworld?'
The Lords? This was about her
'Tell me.'
'Nothing,' she said, because she didn't know what kind of answer Stefano wanted. 'I know nothing about any Lords.'
Irritation flickered in his eyes. 'Lying will only get you in trouble, my dear. So let's try again. You stayed with a group of men in Budapest. Not just any men, but unquestionably the most violent men the world has ever seen. Yet they didn't harm you. And if they didn't harm you, that means they considered you a friend.'
'They're monsters,' she said, and prayed that was what he wanted to hear. 'I hate them. I don't know why they kept me, and I don't know why they let me go. Amusement, maybe.' Truth and hate blared from every syllable. 'Let me go. Please. I didn't mean to hurt…It was an accident and I…' Tears once again stung her eyes.
Stefano sighed. 'We kept you drugged while we decided what to do with you. Drugged yet safe. You took a strong soldier from us, Danika, one of our best. We miss Kevin terribly. His wife hasn't stopped crying since I told