Page 44 of The Devil's Waltz

“Who are you?” I whisper before I can stop myself, because I can’t help feeling as if I’m looking at a stranger.

He glances down briefly before closing the distance between us once more. With a sigh, he murmurs, “You need me to say it?” When I don’t respond, his fingers catch my chin, and he tilts my face up to meet his gaze. “I’m Xander Kane, Prince of Hell.” His eyes flash black, and I choke on the dryness in my throat.

Demons’ eyes turn black for a few reasons. They’re hungry, angry, or territorial. At this moment, I don’t want to know which has Xander’s eyes looking like pools of darkness.

Something in me snaps, and I tap into what little training I can remember from my time with the hunter organization. Ducking under Xander’s arm, I put some distance between us so I can take a few breaths—and so I’m no longer trapped.

He turns around to follow my movement and takes in my stance with a sigh. His eyes return to the slate gray I’m used to, and there’s a flicker of regret there. I almost miss it, it’s gone so quickly. “I don’t want to fight you, Camille.”

“And I don’t believe you.” I advance with my fists raised and strike out, aiming for his jaw.

He deflects my attack with an infuriating amount of ease, sidestepping my blow. It pushes me to fight harder, and my muscles protest as Ipivot swiftly, transitioning into a series of kicks and punches, aiming for any opening I can find.

But he has demonic strength and speed on his side. He anticipates every move I make, though that doesn’t stop me from trying. His mouth is set in a tight line, his eyes focused on me, and the shimmer of sadness there catches me off guard a second too long. He moves faster than my eyes can track, and the next thing I know, he has me pressed against the wall again, my wrists secured in one of his hands and pinned above my head. “Please, Camille—”

The soft tone of his voice urges me to immediately fight his grip, using every ounce of strength I have, trying to break free. It’s useless. There isn’t a world where my extremely limited abilities are any match for a high-level demon.

It’s painfully clear how my lack of continued hunter training is hurting me in this situation. And I hate how my mother’s voice echoes in my head, reminding me of the hunters’ offer to re-enroll.

The universe sure has a wicked sense of humor…

“Stop fighting me.” Xander’s voice is low in my ear, shooting a shiver down my spine.

My jaw clenches, and I continue tugging on my wrists, but he doesn’t let go. “Get away from me,” I seethe, venom dripping from each word.

“But you wanted me to explain myself, didn’t you?” He leans back enough to meet my gaze and uses his free hand to tuck a rogue bit of hair behind my ear, his knuckles grazing my cheek as my chest rises and falls rapidly.

Before I can form a response, the door flies open, smacking against the wall as Harper charges inside and slams it shut.

Xander glances over his shoulder at my best friend, and frees me from his grasp, turning to face her. “Harper, I presume,” he drawls. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Youdon’t talk,” she snaps, wearing an expression sharp enough to cut glass aimed at him.

“Where’s the rest of the cavalry?” He takes a step toward her, and I move without thinking, grabbing his wrist to pull him back, to keep him away from my friend.

He glances down at where my fingers are wrapped around his wrist, white at the knuckles, as if I’m holding on for dear life. I am—Harper’s.

She’ll attack him without blinking, without considering the consequences of doing so.

“Get away from her,” she growls, inching closer.

His gaze shifts back to her. “Or what?” he taunts. “What are you going to do, little hunter?”

“Please. I’ll kick your ass straight out that door.” Her eyes narrow. “I’ll enjoy it, too.”

I move in front of Xander, putting my back to him. Just another thing to add to the list of stupid things I’ve done. “Harper, please,” I urge her with wide eyes.

This situation needs to deescalate before someone snaps.

“Cami, you need to move. I have a direct order.”

Xander laughs behind me, which doesn’t help the murderous look on Harper’s face.

“I’m asking you to stand down,” I all but whisper.

She turns her anger on me. “Are you insane?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

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