Page 74 of Huntress

“You can’t act like this. Stop it–”

“Why not? You already own me, and that means my body is yours. I can be your family, Mistress. Your best friend, your lover.” His lip brushed against her ear as he spoke. Elsie struggled to break free, but he held her close. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Whatever it takes to put you in the happiest mindset you’ve ever experienced. I’ll be your everything, for a time. It will make the betrayal on your face that much more delicious when I take your life with my bare hands.”

Elsie huffed out a huge breath, a smile breaking out. How bold of him to torment her with that desperate look in his eyes? She laughed at how absurd she’d been for entertaining his behavior for even a second. How foolish she’d been. Bond or not, this creature was a demon, and she wouldn’t let herself forget it.

“You asshole,” she laughed one more time, then buried her fist in his gut, taking advantage of his injury.

Saint rocked back on the stool, almost toppling over, a hand over his stomach. He bent over, trying to catch his breath, and Elsie took full advantage of the moment. Grabbing a fistful of curls, she forced him to look up at her.

“You’re right, you are mine, at least until I can get us out of this mess. Don’t make the mistake of assuming I’ll ever see you as more than a beast that I’m forced to take care of. I will never let you close enough to let you in, mutt. Never,” she growled.

Relief shone in his eyes, and she let him go as though he’d shocked her with electricity. He’d pushed her boundaries on purpose, putting distance between them.

Elsie grabbed the tools and tossed them back into the box. She wasn’t practiced enough at lock picking, and she wasn’t going to wait until they got back to the compound where she’d bully the key out of Clairemont’s meaty hands. She picked up the circular saw and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Sit still.”

“Why should I trust you not to cut my head off with that?”

“Because I’m not a masochist. I’m not interested in self-inflicted pain. If you hurt, I hurt. That’s how it works, right?” Her teeth flashed as she spoke of the bond neither of them wanted. “The bars between the prongs don’t touch your skin. Don’t move, so I can get the collar off you.”

He clenched his jaws shut, but nodded. Elsie had him rest his forehead and hands against the table, ensuring he stayed steady. She turned the saw on and held her breath, forcing her hand motions to stay smooth and precise, in spite of the saw’s weight and how exhausted she was.

Sparks flew when the saw touched metal, and the prongs of the collar dug into his skin, but he stayed perfectly still. Electricity surged through the collar, and the voltage split between the two of them hard enough to rattle through their bones, but Elsie didn’t stop. She gritted her teeth and kept going. The first bar split in two.

She paused, needing a break. “One left.” She took several deep breaths, then went after the second bar. The enchantment against tampering jolted them twice as hard, the pain getting to be unbearable, and Elsie nearly let go. The saw slipped forward as the last tiny bit of metal broke free.

“There, see? Not a scratch,” Elsie said after she turned the saw off and set it on the table.

The collar hadn’t budged. She approached slowly and pulled each embedded prong from his skin, leaving bleeding holes behind. He hissed as one stuck and she had to pull hard. Once the atrocity was removed, she dropped it to the floor with a clatter.

Saint lifted his head, and they locked eyes as his flashed a hellish red. His power filled the air around them, and he took a deep breath, letting out a shaky laugh.

He reached for Elsie but let his hand drop when she shuffled out of range, and he grinned as though her reaction was exactly what he’d wanted. She’d actually followed through on one of her claims, and while he was grateful for the pseudo-freedom it provided, he couldn’t show it. Not after he’d successfully put some distance between them.

“How do you plan to control me now that you don’t have that damned thing to threaten me with?”

“Are you a lord?” She ignored his question altogether.

He snorted, intending to reply with something sarcastic, but she was scary pale, with a sheen of sweat on her forehead. She looked as if she’d fall over with a good stiff wind.

“Your people know our class system, but you’ve placed the markers for the power levels incorrectly.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you hunters have grossly underestimated our rankings. The majority of the rats we fought today were in the upper reaches of the lessers. The guards were lower middle class, and the pipers are only lords among rats. The pipers themselves ranked between middle and upper-middle class.”

“That would mean there are demons out there with incomprehensible power levels,” she said. If their scale was wrong, there were things out there capable of vast destruction that she’d never heard of, and certainly never encountered.

“Incomprehensible? That may be true of some of the high lords, I suppose.” He glanced her way.

“I thought you were a lord. Was I wrong? What level are you?” Elsie asked, afraid to know the answer. The hound smirked, and she stared at his face for far longer than was polite. How did she still find him beautiful when he was so rotten?

“It’s rude to ask someone their class, Mistress,” he scolded. Other demons would just know, and asking would intentionally draw attention to it.

“I’m trying to understand. How far off is our classification system compared to where demons have it set? What’s out there that we’re incapable of understanding?”

His smirk turned into a wolfish grin. He was enjoying her discomfort far too much.