Page 1 of Bones

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BONES

Ishould just kill her.

I was going to kill her.

That had been my job.

Kill the humans who had come to Devil’s Haven with the Light Justiciars, and prevent them from destroying the club and capturing Blaze’s mate, Kennedy. But when I heard her begging for death, something had stopped me. It’s been a week since that night and I still haven’t gotten more than a handful of words from her. I wish Reaper would hurry the fuck up and decide what we’re going to do with her. I’ve got enough issues to deal with. I don’t need to deal with a woman on top of everything else. Especially not one as attractive as her.

The Knights’ clubhouse is a sprawling adobe style structure some wealthy settler had built during the gold rush. Now it houses most of the Knights of Hades, the rest of the members bunking in the more recent metal building in the back. Black banners hang on some of the walls, the image of Cerberus’s headin a circle of chains stamped in stark white and preserved from the elements with magic.

This place isn’t meant for someone like her.

Someone who believed all demons and supernatural creatures should be killed, all in the name of religious purity. A part of me laughs at her new reality. No wonder why she refuses to say much. She’s surrounded by the very creatures she believes are pure evil. She doesn’t reek of fear as much as she did those first few days, but the sour stench has never disappeared.

I don’t feel much pity for her.

Still. I’m getting real fucking sick of sitting my ass here in the clubhouse watching her just . . . sit there at the end of the couch. Like a little rabbit who found herself stuck in the wolf’s den. She stays in one place, curled up as small as she can get, quiet as can be. Like us big bad demons might forget she exists.

Sloan follows directions without protest; spends the bare minimum of effort taking care of herself. Fuck, if I didn’t shove food at her three times a day, I’m convinced she’d go without.

At least she doesn’t make me dress her. She’s wearing clothes Lacy and Kennedy picked out for her. A pair of skinny jeans that hug her thighs, a bright red shirt with a scoop neck, and a pair of boots with a low heel.

Her blonde hair is pulled up into a messy bun, with tendrils framing her oval face. More than one of the club members have leered at her, backing off when I silence them with a glare or growl. Even with the hollow look in her blue eyes and shadows under her eyes, I can agree she’s attractive.

I’m just not the type who is attracted to someone who attacked my pack over a week ago.

Her expression is pissing me off. It’s blank, her gaze unfocused as she stares at a random spot on the wall.

It’s just past noon, so the sun streams in through the open front doors.

How can someone who is just sitting there be so damned enraging?

Brute strolls in, only in jeans and boots, scratching his abs while yawning. He notices me sitting at the bar and walks over, raising his brows in question while inclining his head towards Sloan.

“Still pulling the mute shit?” Brute asks as he leans against the bar, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Brute is an appropriate name for my demon brother. In his human form, he’s massive. Nearly seven feet tall and barrel chested, coarse chest hair across his pectorals before it travels down the center of his stomach.

He was with me in the helicopter above the battle between the Light Justiciars and the Knights of Hades. He saw what Sloan’s amplifier ability can do and how dangerous it is. He’d been the one piloting while I dropped out, hundreds of feet above the ground, to take her out and save my brothers.

I can still see the fear in her blue eyes, hear her thoughts pleading for me to end her in my mind.

I shrug. “She’s still refusing to talk unless someone asks her a direct question.”

“And the bitch hates all demons,” Brute adds.

Only because I’m watching her do I see the slight flinch at his statement.

I nod. “That, too.”

“So, Reaper say what he wants to do yet?”

I turn on my barstool to face him. “He’s still figuring out what we’re going to do with her. For now, we’re going to keep her here.”

Brute frowns. “She’s got a fucking amplifier ability. Not like we can just let her go back to those Justiciar fuckers.”

I don’t answer. I know that we can’t just as much as he does. That still doesn’t solve my problem right now: what to do with her. Frustrated, I shove my hand through my dark hair. It’s getting longer than I usually let it but so long as it’s not in my eyes, it’s hard to give a fuck.

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