Page 42 of Blaze
Everyone who helps me gets hurt. I climb into the back seat when Heathen opens the door for me, sliding to the middle. Sydney gets in on one side and Lacy on the other. The guys get into the front seat. The women next to me might be relaxed as Heathen drives, but I see how tense he and Cinder are. They’re waiting to be attacked at any moment.
Bile burns the back of my throat. It’s all too easy to picture it being Sydney in one of those body bags, or Cinder with a sobbing Lacy bent over him.
I shudder and try to let out an even breath so no one suspects anything.
I need to leave Devil’s Haven. Not just for me anymore, but to keep everyone else safe. Sydney, Lacy, Cinder... even Blaze.
Because right then, I realize I’m not falling for the demon. I’ve already fallen, and I’m lying on the ground, aching for him. It doesn’t matter if he returns my feelings or not. I’m in love with Blaze, against all reasoning or attempts to resist it.
I won’t let him die trying to help me.
By the time we pull off the road and into the large gravel parking area behind the clubhouse, I’ve got the basics of a plan worked out. Now I need to make sure no one finds out until I’m already gone.
15
BLAZE
I fucking vibrate with the need to do something as I pace the length of the party room in the clubhouse. Only Knights of Hades are here now. No women to keep us distracted, save for the three on their way now. Three women who either have a mate or are spoken for. It doesn’t matter if Sydney and Reaper have shit between them; she’s more likely to stab him than fuck him. Regardless, we all know to steer wide of her unless we want Reaper ripping apart what’s left of us. Because Sydney would fuck us up first.
I have no claim to Kennedy, and that fact threatens to send me full flame. I’m such a fucking bastard and idiot. I should have known it from the moment she pulled that damn gun on me and I inhaled her sweet scent the first time.
Kennedy is mine. A growl burns in my gut as I think that, complete certainty weighing down each step. A couple of the other brothers eye me with wariness as I pace past the couch where they sit.
And I sent another fucking male to pick her up. All because I didn’t want to face the truth.
“You good, brother?” Chainz drawls from his position leaning against the bar top.
No. “Yes,” I snap.
“You sure?” Bones asks and gestures to me. “You’re smoky.”
I glance at my reflection in one of the mirrored beer signs on the wall, hanging between the Knights of Hades banners. Fuck. They’re right. I’m closer to losing control of my form and going full demon than I realized. I ball my fists, forcing my demonic nature down again.
That’s one of the few good things my father forced me to learn. His methods were cruel and torturous, but there is nothing that can make me snap and lose it.
A prince of Hell must always have control, his voice taunts me still, so many years later. If you cannot control yourself, you are nothing more than flesh for the fiends to dine on.
Fuck him. I found true belonging with the unit of demons I was sent to. Reaper was a hard commander, but fair. He sacrificed as much as us in battles. When we knew we needed the Dark Helm to make our escape from that realm, he wouldn’t let anyone else risk themselves to retrieve it. We all knew the price he’d pay if he was caught stealing the helm from my father. I’d begged to be the one to do it, but he had simply gripped my shoulder and told me it was his responsibility as our leader. He hadn’t hesitated to walk in to the fucked-up palace that’d once been my home.
I’m such a fucking idiot, I think as I check myself in the mirrored sign again. Satisfied I’m not smoking any longer, I shake the thoughts of my father from my head and join Chainz at the bar.
He’s holding a beer out to me, the bottle cap already gone. His aviators are pushed up on his head, an unusual occurrence. The whites of his eyes are streaked with black, revealing just how on edge one of my best friends is.
I swipe the beer from his hand and chug half of it, relishing in the bitter hops and slight burn of the demonic beer.
“Better?” Chainz’s voice is low as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Not really,” I admit, resting my weight on my forearms on the bar top next to him. “I’m fucked.”
Chainz snorts, and I look at him through the side of my eyes as he lazily takes another swallow from his own bottle. He looks at me, raising a brow. “Could’ve told you that when you had no interest in that piece-of-ass basically begging to suck your cock. No free male says no to a blowjob.”
I growl but don’t disagree. I take another gulp of beer.
Chainz turns until he’s facing me, leaning most of his weight on his elbow now. I hook an ankle around one of the bar stools, angling it closer before sitting down. The urge to move is still there, skittering under my skin, but I lock it down.
“She ain’t Irenabeth,” he murmurs, his voice too low to be heard by any of the others.
My teeth grind together at the demoness’s name, the one my father had been intent on mating to me, even as he fucked her. I’d been a fucking fool, too different than my father to realize her true nature until it was too late. She’d convinced me that she would be my fated mate in time, that I was the only one who held her heart.
