The Darkest Pleasure

reaching out and grabbing one of the sandwiches. The turkey on wheat. She nibbled on it for a while, then popped several of the grapes into her mouth.

Her eyelids closed, ecstasy coating her expression.

He stepped away, palming a dagger then hiding his arms behind his back to sink the tip into his wrist. Good, so damned good. All the while, he watched her. She had not reacted to his demon confession as he'd feared. He'd expected terror, screams, even disbelief. Instead, she'd accepted everything, remained calm and hadn't demanded proof.

That meant she'd already known.

What else had the Hunters told her?

Much as she hated Reyes and his friends, Reyes had a sudden fear that the Hunters had convinced Danika to work with them as Bait. And if she was acting as Bait, that meant she'd allowed herself to be drugged. Probably so he wouldn't suspect what she was. It saddened him, that she might be pushed to such extremes.

Was her job to distract him and lead his enemy inside the fortress? Or was she simply to learn everything she could about him? Because of her earlier questions, he suspected the latter. She'd wanted to know about Lucien's abilities. She'd wanted to know about Reyes's demon. Would she relay everything he'd told her to the Hunters?

If something had happened to her family, she would betray him, no doubt about it. Can you blame her? No, he couldn't blame her, but neither could he suppress the hurt that came with the thought that she would turn—had turned—against him.

Maddox had nearly killed Ashlyn over these types of suspicions. And if the others thought, even for a moment, that Danika might be Bait, they would demand Reyes slay her immediately—or they would do it themselves.

Except for these past few months, he hadn't battled Hunters in thousands of years. Still, he remembered the beginning of their blood feud very well. The fights and the deaths, the screams and the destruction. Theirs, his. Every shadow had been suspect, every stranger a possible assassin.

Reyes hadn't lived in fear, for he'd been a warrior to the core even then. He'd been cocky and arrogant and sure of his success, in battle and with women. He'd killed without remorse, taken every woman who desired him, showing them the pleasure found in pain, totally unconcerned about the aftermath.

Some had beaten their next partner to powder, some had sought beatings for themselves. All had become shells of their former selves, as desperate for pain as he was.

He would not do that to Danika nor would he let his friends hurt her. No matter what her purpose was. He had worked too diligently to save her, needed her with him too badly, and did not think he could function any longer without her. He would either win her affections so that she would not betray him or stop her from contacting the Hunters.

Decided, he nodded. He just, he couldn't let her go. She…eased his torment, he realized. Every time he neared her, his need for pain slackened considerably. Not once had he felt compelled to jump from the fortress. Not once had he craved broken bones and shredded organs. A few cuts here and there seemed to be sustaining him. Amazing.

'Thank you. For the food,' Danika offered grudgingly. She popped another grape into her mouth, chewed.

'My pleasure.' Already her color was brighter, her limbs less shaky. Dirt still smudged her cheeks, but the blue veins he'd been able to see before were no longer visible. 'When you are done, you will shower.'

She tensed but didn't face him. 'That will just waste time.'

'Does not matter.'

'Does Aeron refuse to speak with unclean women?' she snapped. 'I didn't realize demons had such strict standards of personal hygiene.'

'I want you comfortable,' he said on a sigh. 'I want you at your best, your mind clear. You will need every ounce of your strength. A shower will help.'

That mollified her. 'Fine, but I'm not showering with you in the room.'

'A pity,' he muttered.

Finally her bright green gaze sharpened on him. 'What was that?'

When she looked at him, no matter her expression, desire always pounded through him. Even now, his shaft swelled and his hands itched to touch her. You can't. You know better. 'There are clothes in the dresser. Take anything you need.'

Still watching him, she bit into a grape.

He hardened all the more, lengthened another inch. He could very easily imagine those sharp, white teeth sinking into him again. The pain…the pleasure…a mingling of rapture. His angel would transport him to heaven.

His angel? Such a dangerous thing to want, yet he couldn't help himself. Everything inside him screamed that she was his. That they were meant to be together.

He doubted she would agree, and that was for the best.

If she wanted him as he wanted her, how would he be able to deny her? How would he be able to stop himself from taking her? And if he took her, how could he live with himself, knowing he'd ruined her? The demon of Pain would corrupt her; she would live only to hurt.

Sadly, the dark musings failed to dampen his arousal.

'I shall return soon.'

Danika's gaze landed between his legs, and she hastily looked away, cheeks burning bright. She choked on the grape. 'Sure. Okay. Take all the time you want.'

If she ever learned the extent of his need for agony and the fact that he lost all hold on sanity without it…if she ever passed that knowledge on to the Hunters…Bad news, all the way around.

He would have to be careful around her. Much as he desired her, much as he wanted to ease the pain that had become her life, he had to be careful. It was strange, this desire to ease pain rather than cause it.

Sighing, he turned to go.

'Reyes,' she called.

He stopped, faced her. 'Yes.'

'I know you,' she said, suddenly sounding shy, 'but I don't really know anything about you.'

'And you wish to know more?'

Reluctantly, she nodded.

Was she truly curious or did she wish to know for the Hunters? He'd thought he had not cared about her purpose, but right then, he wanted her to be curious. He wanted her to want to learn about him. Because she cared.

'What would you like to know about me?'

She shrugged, traced a finger over the black comforter. Her cheeks heated to a pretty pink. 'How long have you lived here? What are your hobbies? Do you have any children? What are your hopes and dreams?'

Innocent enough, he supposed. 'I have lived here longer than you have been alive. I have one hobby. Weapons—making them, cleaning them, collecting them. I have no children.' He'd always been afraid of hurting them. Worse, of outliving them because of their mortal half. He pitied Maddox, who might one day know that sorrow. 'I dream of—' You. 'I dream of peace, a life without pain.'

'What—'

'I have answered enough questions to make you now feel more comfortable staying in my room. It is time for your shower. I'll return in half an hour. Be ready. We will learn what we can about your family.'

'Twenty minutes.' Their gazes met, locked. Hers was filled with determination and…hatred? Of him? Or Aeron? 'Return in twenty.'

He nodded, already missing her. 'Until then.'

CHAPTER EIGHT