I pass it to Noah to take a look while I insert the flash drive into the computer’s slot. A window pops open. It’s password protected. On instinct, I type in the first thing I think Erik would use: “demon whore.”Shit.I’ve got two more tries. Maybe“demon-loving whore.” It’s wrong. Drumming an erratic rhythm with my nails on the desk, I ponder if I should try again and risk never seeing what’s on it. I sense Noah approaching to look over my shoulder. Thankfully, he doesn’t invade my space.
C’mon, Iris,think! What would a psychopath who hated women use as his password?
I think back to the significance of the paintings, which Erik must have felt a deep connection to. Why else hide these under the one with the strongest message? A scantily clad woman, riding a beast, commanding demons while bringing men to their knees…I can’t believe I didn’t think of it first! The New Testament, Book of Revelation 17:5. Fingers trembling, I type in “whore of Babylon.”
This time, I can’t contain the excited scream from slipping free when another window pops open. Twenty-five folders stare back at me, each titled “demon whore,” followed by an assigned number. I open the first one. There have to be over a hundred videos here, so I choose a random one. It’s footage from inside someone’s bathroom. A brunette woman is taking a shower. It’s not clear at first what’s happening, but then a moan reverberates over the running water as she moves—a man is eating her out, on his knees.
I close the video, uncomfortable as fuck. This is nothing like the time I attended the succubus party withhim. Those were willing participants; they wanted to be watched. This woman wasn’t aware that Erik had put cameras all over her apartment and was stalking her.
Holy shit!What if—
I scroll to the last folder in a panicked daze. When I finally open it, I choose another random video. The room is dark, shrouded in shadows, but even so, it takes me about a second to recognizemybedroom. And lying on the bed—fingers sliding in and out of my pussy—is me. I feel so violated, more so whenI realize this is one of the moments etched on my brain forever because sitting in the armchair in the corner, watching me, is Kaiden. And that sick fuck has tarnished it.
The sound of the front door being unlocked slices through the silence. “We have to go,” Noah whispers, tone steady, but his body trembles with undisguised anger.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
I’m so stupid. In my earlier frenzy, I completely forgot he was watching over my shoulder. Did he see Kaiden? Did he recognize him? Does he know what the Elite demon running the Obsidian Conclave looks like?
Calm the fuck down, Iris!The room was dark, and the camera was behind Kaiden. He only saw his back, that’s all. Fuck, at least I hope so. As Noah zips through the room to close the door, I safely remove the flash drive, shut down the computer, and pocket it along with the key and the envelope I found earlier.
“Brutus! Mommy’s home.” At hearing Britney’s voice, the dog lets out a series of sounds so awful they seem to come straight out of the pits of Hell rather than the body of a two-pound Chihuahua.
“What do we do?” I mouth at Noah while we both press our ears to the door.
He shrugs.
“Brutus? Why are you in the bathroom? Oh no, did Mommy close you in there by mistake? Bad, bad, dog! Look at what you’ve done. You made Mommy step in poopoo. No! You’re not going anywhere. Mommy has to bathe you. You stink. Oh God, there’s shit and piss everywhere. Why are you acting like this? Brutus, calm down!”
I crack the door and peek through the gap just as Britney disappears into the bathroom; her gagging sounds now muffled by the closed door. Throwing one more cursory glance at my back to make sure everything is in place, I tilt my head to Noahto signal him it’s time to go. We tiptoe through the corridor until we’re in the building’s hallway. Luckily, Brutus made such a ruckus there’s no way Britney could have heard us. We bolt into the elevator.
“Phew! That was a close one,” I let out on a relieved exhale.
Noah doesn’t even look at me, his eyes drilling holes in the elevator doors while we descend. His fists are so tight I’m surprised his tendons don’t fracture under the pressure. “Who was that? Watching you?” he snarls acidly.
I huff in disbelief. “First, that’s none of your fucking business. And second, don’t you think it’s kind of fucked up that you weren’t even concerned that Erik—who almost raped and murdered me—was stalking me like a creep? He probably put cameras all over my apartment. Who knows for how long he had been watching me? In all of my vulnerable moments…I feel so fucking violated, and you’re concerned aboutthat? Frankly, you can take your jealousy, Noah, and shove it up your ass.” Folding my arms over my chest, I mutter, “Un-fucking-believable.”
Noah snaps his eyes shut, and after a few moments, he murmurs, “I’m sorry.”
A brittle laugh escapes my lips.Men and their fragile little egos.“Yeah, you’ve said that a lot today. I don’t want you to drop me off anymore. I would rather walk.” Without sparing Noah another glance, I stalk out of the building and into the empty streets of Ashville.
16
Kaiden
Thetap, tap, tap,of the inquisitor’s cane—which is not only solid gold but also adorned by garish angel wings—reverberates over the low sensual music as he enters my club, spine rod-straight. His upper lip curls in blatant disgust when he passes the two wolf shifters guarding the inside door. My teeth grind as I shove down the urge to incinerate him on the spot for that disrespect alone. Alec and Zayn are loyal to a fault, and ten times the man he is.
He swivels his head to take in his surroundings, crinkling his nose like he’s smelling something foul. The suit he’s wearing is ivory, embellished by thick golden embroidery at the lapels and sleeves. A shiny bow decorates his long, dirty-blond hair, which is tied at the nape. But the worst part of the entire ensemble arethe shoes: suede loafers that match the suit. I’m surprised my eyes haven’t started bleeding at the sight.
“Is this guy for real?” Malik snickers at my back, where he’s standing beside Emily at the bar.
“Right? I swear all he’s missing is a minion,” Emily whispers back on a low chuckle.
Before he reaches us, the inquisitor snaps his fingers. A gangly young man with a large briefcase spills through the open door. His short, white-ish blond hair is sticking every which way, and sweat dots his forehead.
“Never mind,” Emily adds on a muffled laugh.
I have to bite the inside lining of my cheek to stop the one bubbling its way up my throat. However, despite the levity my friends bring, I wish I didn’t have to bear the presence of this pompous snake. Hell, I would even take theNarniamarathons Malik has forced me into countless times over being here. He always says my TV is better than his before he parks his ass on my couch. Which is a lie. Not only did I gift them—Malik, Dominic, and Logan—the three apartments on the level beneath my penthouse, but I also made sure they got the same electronics, too. The real reason he does this is because they were his little sister’s favorite, and there are days when his grief is suffocating. So even though I would rather stab myself in the eyeballs with a ballpoint pen than go through six and a half hours of that torture again, I would never refuse him. Not after he lost her so tragically.
