Chapter 2
“He doesn’t look like a demon,” Trina said, brushing her frizzing hair away from her face as she slowly backed away from the unconscious male chained to the steel-reinforced wall inside the warehouse. They’d had to zap him three more times in the vehicle, until finally he’d passed out. Then they’d had to just dump him out of the SUV, onto the cement, and roll him to the restraints. He really was heavy—and all muscle.
Mercy swallowed. Purebred demons were blond with black eyes, but Logan had dark hair and green eyes. “He’s part vampire. Maybe that’s the dominant force in his genes.” Though his voice had been full demon. His family ran the demon nation, so she’d think of him as such. She forced away a shiver.
A gentle rain started pattering down and sprayed inside the open garage-style door. More water dripped somewhere in the recesses of the huge space. Mercy eyed the ancient sword leaning against the wall, several feet down from the demon.
Sandy shut the back of the SUV and read a text from her phone. “We’re needed on the south side, Trina.” She looked up, her dark eyes worried. “This is a terrible plan, Mercy.” She frowned and studied the unconscious male. “He won’t believe you’re going to kill him. It’d take two of us to get a blade through that thick neck.”
Logan’s deep green eyes opened, already clear and focused.
Mercy’s breath caught, and she took an unwilling step back. She was a heck of a poker player, and she could bluff with the best of them. “I’ve got this,” she whispered, her voice shaking just a little.
Trina came to her side, staring at the male. She slipped the tricked-out stun gun into Mercy’s hand. “We are in so much trouble,” she said quietly.
Mercy nodded. “I know.”
Sandy grabbed her arm. “The king doesn’t make idle threats. Get this done and get home. No more mistakes, Mercy.”
Icy fingers clutched Mercy’s heart and squeezed. Damn anxiety. “I know.” How she was going to succeed here without getting caught was beyond her at the moment. But she had to do it. “Get out of here. I’ll be in contact.”
Logan hadn’t said a word. He casually tested one wrist restraint and then the other, not seeming concerned that the cuffs were shackled by chains to a wall. And his gaze hadn’t left hers. Not even for a second.
Warning ticked through her. The kind a smart person would heed. A lump settled in her throat.
Trina and Sandy jumped into the SUV and sped out of the warehouse, hitting a button and shutting the garage door as they passed.
Quiet descended except for the drip, drip, drip in the distance.
Logan finally released her gaze, turned and studied the sword, then focused back on her. “Who the fuck are you?”
Whoa. So, he’d been masking the full hoarseness of his demon voice. Logan’s tone, set free now, shot past rumbly to rough. Seriously rough. And way too sexy for any male.
Mercy sighed. “Mercy O’Malley. I already told you that.” Yeah, she was stalling. She wouldn’t let herself look away, though. The male had black hair to his shoulders, thick and wavy. Scruff covered what could only be described as a rock-hard jaw that matched his fierce features perfectly. His shoulders were broad, his chest muscled, and his body incredibly tight. Logan Kyllwood was a warrior among warriors, and she didn’t stand a chance in hell of fighting him should he get free.
Good thing she’d used real iron cuffs.
His gaze raked her, leaving sensitivity and an odd tingling in its wake. “You’re more than human.”
“Aye,” she said softly. There were several immortal species.
His gaze narrowed. “Not a shifter.”
“No.”
“Or demon,” he mused, remaining so still it was kind of eerie.
She shook her head.
“You’re a fucking witch.” He knocked his head back on the reinforced steel wall. “Another witch. Damn witches.”
Her chest hitched and she straightened to her full, rather unimpressive, height. “I most certainly am not a witch.” Did she look like a witch? Hell, no. Witches played with elements and threw fire. That’s all. For Pete’s sake. She was much more powerful than that. “A witch,” she muttered, kicking off the way too high heels that had been killing her all day. Who wore those things, anyway?
His frown slashed down dark eyebrows. “What’s left?”
How insulting. Seriously. Maybe he was a moron, and she’d given him too much credit earlier. “I’m Fae.”
He blinked. Once, twice. Horror crossed his hard expression. “You’re afairy?”
