Had I really been that nonchalant?
“You didn’t come into my territory and threaten one of my patrons with bodily harm, even though violence is forbidden without my permission? That patron wasn’t killed by someone who managed to escape my ward while you were trapped in it?”
I blinked. “Fine. Turns out it’s exactly what it looks like.” I attempted a nonchalant shrug. Samael ignored me and turned his head as another demon approached.
“Get Sitri,” he ordered, and the demon faded away. Just a few seconds later, another demon appeared.
Where Samael was beautiful, this demon was almost pretty. His dark hair fell over his face, hiding his eyes, which were a pale purple—almost lavender. Those eyes seemed lost, even as he focused on my face, his lips forming in a pout that told me clearly, without words, that I was in deep shit.
“Invitation,” Samael ordered, and I tensed. “Please,” he murmured, “disobey me. I haven’t gotten my hands dirty for weeks.”
My heart pounded so hard it felt as if it would jump out of my chest. The silver-eyed savage wanted me to believe we’d gone fromthisto lovers?
The flashback had faded while I dealt with my confusion. But I focused on it once more, unable to look away.
“Your first choice? Both you and the traitor die. This Steve dies harder, begging for death for daring to cross me.”
He would have done it too. I could see it on his face. I’d let this man kiss me?
My voice sounded high and thready. “And the second choice?”
“You work for me.”
“In what capacity?”
His gaze dropped to the demon on the floor. “This isn’t the first death in the past few weeks, although it’s a different method. Something is hunting demons, and your reputation precedes you. You’ll be my personal bounty hunter.”
“For how long?”
He tilted his head in that alien way that told me, more clearly than words, that he was not—and would never be—anything close to human. Both demons stared at me like I was a particularly dense brand of stupid and I ground my teeth. Demon vows were—
“Forever,” Samael said, pure male satisfaction dripping from the word.
“I’ll make you a deal.”
My hands shook in real time, and I curled them into my covers. I’d dared to attempt to bargain with this man? I pushed the flashback—or memory—away, throwing the covers off myself as I got to my feet. But the memory wouldn’t be denied.
The demon pulled me close, until I was just inches from him. He smelled like burning wood in a winter cabin—the comforting smell at odds with who he actually was. Demons had an affinity with fire—something I wouldn’t forget.
Samael turned my arm over with a hum. “Usually, I use the inside of the arm. But for you, I like the idea of my mark being a little more… visible.”
The pain was sharp, his hand a blur as he cut a long line down my forearm. I gasped, instinctively attempting to pull my hand away, and he tightened his hold, shaking his head. His thumb danced across my inner wrist.
Samael leaned close. “You smell familiar, little witch.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot. Guess I’ve just got a generic scent to me.”
Samael gave me a slow smile that was all twisted sheets and hot, sweaty bodies. “There’s nothing generic about you.”
“I’m just a basic witch,” I mumbled.
He inhaled my scent again. “There’s nothing basic about you, either.”
He pressed his arm to mine, and I was engulfed in fire.
It ripped through me, and I fell to my knees, my arm still in the demon’s hand. His eyes burned into mine, his expression hard as tears dripped down my cheeks. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to stand, glowering at him.
The demon’s eyes glowed. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he said. He removed his hand, and I breathed around the urge to puke.
