Trinity stands in the middle of the elevator as it rises smoothly, as if she’s not sure which one of us she should stand closest to or farthest away from. I catch her shooting a glance at me from beneath her eyelids, and the gesture is so alluring, so unintentionally coquettish, that I have to resist the urge to press her up against the elevator wall and drag her bottom lip between my teeth. To kiss her until she begs me to do more.
Just like she begged back at the pleasure den.
I draw another long breath of air in through my nostrils, fighting to keep a grip on my goddamn sanity.
When the elevator doors open at the top floor, Ford stalks out, still carrying the unconscious demon’s body over his shoulder. Remington and Phoenix follow him, but before the angel can do the same, I step forward and catch her arm.
I can feel her body’s reaction to me, the slight tightening of her muscles as if she can’t decide between leaning closer and pulling away. I take the decision away from her, dropping my head as I close the distance between us even more.
“Are you all right?” I ask quietly.
Her eyes flare wide, surprise flashing in their dark depths. I can see her scrambling to get her emotional walls up as she nods her head vigorously. “Of course. Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I lift one eyebrow. “Because you just got hit by a dose of lust dust that would drive even a siren mad. Because you came on my tongue and begged me to fuck you, two things I’m certain you’ve never done before.”
Her cheeks turn red, and she drops her head slightly, although she doesn’t seem able to rip her gaze away from mine. “I thought I said we weren’t going to talk about it ever again.”
I nod. “You did. And we won’t. Once I hear you say you’re okay.”
She looks tempted to just blurt the words out to end this conversation, but before she speaks, she pulls her lower lip between her teeth. Her gaze goes soft, falling out of focus as her thoughts seem to turn inward, and then she nods slowly.
“Yes. I am. That was…” Her blush deepens, and I swear I can smell her sweet arousal in the air. She breathes in deeply, shaking her head. “It was… a lot. But I know why you did what you did. I was out of my mind with want, and there was no way I would’ve let any of you leave that room until you gave me what I needed. Not with a single shred of my dignity intact anyway. I would’ve run through the halls naked, begging someone to f—well, you know. I’m glad you didn’t let me do that.”
She looks so shy and vulnerable as she speaks that I’m filled with the urge to scoop her up into my arms, to cradle her against my chest like I did when I first brought her back to my apartment, bleeding and broken.
I want to take care of her, just like I did then.
But instead, I drop my head and press my lips softly to hers.
Just once.
A kiss that’s different in nearly every way from how I’ve kissed anyone in a long time.
I’d like to say I’m taking care of her. That I’m doing this for her. To reassure her and comfort her.
But the truth is, I’m just greedy.
When we break apart, her eyes look a little dazed and her cheeks are still flushed, but something in her body has softened. There’s more I could say, but the elevator already seems to have shrunk somehow, and I think it’s best for us to leave before the ephemeral emotions floating in the air take root.
“Come on, angel.”
With a hand at her back, I usher her out into my apartment, leading her down the hall toward the west wing. I know exactly where Ford has taken our demon captive—to a room with steel doors and magical locks that could only generously be termed a “guest room.”
An “interrogation room” would be a more apt description.
My brother already has Henrik bound to a chair in the middle of the room, and he’s woken the demon up too. Ford towers over him as Remington and Phoenix stand off to one side, watching with distaste and disinterest, respectively.
“Anything?” I ask as Trinity and I step inside.
“The fucker won’t talk,” Ford growls. He draws his fist back, and the angel beside me draws in a sharp breath. When Wrath’s punch connects with the demon’s face, a soft, pained noise falls from Trinity’s lips.
My brother freezes. I know he heard the sound, and it appears to have affected him more than Henrik’s screams ever could.
With a curse, he kicks Henrik’s chair, making it rock back on two legs. Then he turns away, running a hand through his blond hair. “One of you want to try? Be my fuckin’ guest.”
Remington’s eyebrows jerk up, surprise evident on his face. But none of us say anything about Ford’s change of heart. It’s unlike our rage-filled brother to give up an interrogation before the subject is unconscious again, but this suits our purposes just fine anyway. There are other tactics that are just as effective as violence, if not more so.
Jerking my chin at Phoenix, I step forward. He grumbles, annoyed at being called upon to work, but strolls over to stand beside me as Remington takes my place beside Trinity.
“Henrik,” I say smoothly. “We need information. I’m sure you’re aware of the sinkhole to Hell that opened up in Lower Manhattan a few days ago. Who’s behind it?”
The bookie lifts his head to glare at me, unearthly yellow light gleaming in his eyes. “I ain’t tellin’ you shit, man! You kidnap me? You beat the shit out of me? You think I’m gonna help you?” He snorts a laugh, blood dripping from his nose. “He’ll kill me if I say anything.”
Well, that was easy.
Now I know two things: the bookie does have valuable information, and whoever was behind this is a man.
So far, so good.
I stand a little taller, letting a hefty dose of greed waft from me. The demon blinks, licking his lips like he can taste money on the air.
“If you help us, we’ll reward you handsomely,” I promise. “Magic. Power. Money. Whatever you want, I’ll make sure you get it.”
His eyes spark with interest when I say “money,” and I nearly roll my eyes. Everyone thinks money is the key to everything, but they’re wrong. I could lose my entire fortune tomorrow, and I would rebuild it from nothing because I have power. Strength. Determination.
“Sure would be nice, right?” Phoenix’s voice is a languid drawl. “Sipping cocktails on a beach somewhere, not a care in the world? Beats gettin’ the shit kicked out of you by that guy, yeah?” He jerks his thumb at Ford, who growls.
“He’s a fucking psycho!” Henrik blurts, and Phoenix nods understandingly.
“Hey, you don’t gotta tell me.” His voice shifts again as he sends out another wave of sloth toward the man. “It’d be so much easier to just take the money and help us, wouldn’t it? You’ll never have to work again. Never have to deal with this kinda shit again. You wouldn’t answer to anyone but yourself.”
“Fifty million dollars,” I put in, and the greed that flares inside Henrik tells me I timed my offer well. Phoenix has softened him up, and now he’s imagining all the luxury fifty million could buy him. All the pussy. All the booze.
“Yeah… yeah, okay.” The demon’s voice slurs a little, like he’s drunk. Which, in a way, he is. He’s drunk on greed, and so full of sloth that he can barely bother to form the words fully. “I’ll tell you. Waddaya wanna know?”