But it was the woman who had handled the artifact who gave the most telling response. For just a split second, her mask slipped. Her lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile, her eyes gleaming with a knowledge that didn't belong there.
Then it was gone, replaced by professional composure.
"I don't recall any of those details," she said, her voice steady. "Perhaps you've confused our mission with another team's report."
I smiled, all teeth and no warmth. "Perhaps. Memory can be such a tricky thing, can't it? So easy to lose track of little details. To forget what's real and what isn't."
I saw the challenge register in her eyes. The subtle narrowing, the flash of something ancient and cold. For a heartbeat, we weren't two operatives discussing a mission. We were two predators sizing each other up, deciding who would strike first.
"If there's nothing else," the leader said, breaking the moment, "we have debriefings scheduled with actual Division leadership."
The dismissal was deliberate. Calculated to sting.
Kearan let out a deep growl from the corner.
I didn't take the bait. Instead, I leaned back in my chair, projecting a confidence I didn't entirely feel. "Just one more thing." I paused, watching their faces carefully. "The ring. The one that went missing from the Denver site. Has anyone seen it?"
None of them moved. None of them spoke. But I felt it… a ripple of tension, a collective holding of breath.
"What ring?" the leader finally asked, his voice perfectly neutral.
I smiled again, slow and deliberate. "That's what I thought. Thank you for your time, everyone. We'll be in touch."
They didn't like that. Didn't like the dismissal or the implied threat. But they stood anyway, movements stiff and coordinated, like puppets on tangled strings.
As they approached the door, I caught the woman's eye, the one who had handled the artifact, the one whose smile had slipped. She held my gaze for a beat too long, her eyes glittering with something that made my skin crawl.
CHAPTER 17
ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR SUPERIOR AND TELL ME WHY YOU'RE HERE.
A hot rush flooded my veins, sudden and violent. The demon inside me stirred, clawing at my insides like it wanted out. Like it recognized one of its own kind. The sensation wasn't pain exactly… more like pressure building behind a dam, demanding release.
Command it, whispered something deep in my core. That definitely wasn't Grayson I heard in my head. Grayson's shocked expression confirmed it, even though the voice felt very different. Show it who is stronger… who is dominant and superior.
My fingers dug into the edge of the table as I fought against the urge. But the woman's smile widened, and I saw the unmistakable flicker of black smoke swirling behind her irises. This wasn't just a human. This was a possessed human. A demon wearing human skin like a cheap suit.
"You," I growled, letting my own eyes shift, feeling the burn as my humanity slipped a notch. "I know what you are."
The rest of Supernatural Team 5 shifted uncomfortably. They didn't understand what was happening, but they felt it… that primal fear humans get when they're in the presence of something beyond their comprehension.
Grayson tensed beside me, his mind immediately reaching for mine. Parker, what are you seeing?
I didn't answer him. Instead, I locked eyes with the possessed woman and let my demon blood surge forward.
"Speak, lesser demon," I commanded, my voice dropping an octave, resonating with power that made the lights flicker. "Acknowledge your superior and tell me why you're here."
The effect was immediate. The woman's body convulsed, her spine arching unnaturally as her head snapped back. When she looked at me again, her eyes were completely black, like pools of oil.
Something deeply intuitive in me pulsed through my body, and words escaped my lips before I even realized they were there. "I hold dominion, demon. You will yield. Speak only what I demand—or I'll drag your truths from the marrow of your soul."
Kearan and Grayson both snapped their attention to me, mixed expressions I couldn't quite read from the corner of my eye. I refused to look away from Supernatural Team 5.
"By blood and bond, I am bound. Your will brands me, hybrid queen. Ask… and I shall bleed the truth into your waiting flame." The operative blinked, just once, and then her face went utterly still. Too still. Like someone had reached into his skull and flipped a switch labeled "perfect soldier." Words poured from his mouth in a steady, measured stream… every syllable precisely articulated, every pause calculated for maximum effect. Not a single detail varied from the official report. Not one personal observation slipped through. It wasn't just rehearsed; it was recited. Programmed. Like he was reading from an invisible teleprompter inside his skull.
"My lady," the demon hissed, its voice layered over the woman's, creating a horrific harmony that made the others at the table recoil. "I recognize your bloodline. I submit to your authority... for now."
The demon's submission sent a thrill through me, heady and intoxicating. This was power… raw, undiluted power. For a moment, I understood why demons craved dominance so desperately. Why my father had been so reluctant to give up his throne.
