Page 46 of The Devil's Waltz

The subtle twitch of his lips that used to make my stomach flip now makes me want to cry. “You want to try that again with a little more force? I don’t quite believe it.”

I swallow hard. “What do you want with me, Xander?”

He pushes away from the wall, closing the space between us, and my back stiffens. “It’s not about whatIwant. It never was. Trust me, if it was, this situation would be very different.”

My brows scrunch up, and a stupid flicker of hope ignites in my chest. “What does that mean?”

“You’d like to know why I’m here? Why that demon attacked you the night we met?”

His words snuff out any hope I was clinging to as bile rises in my throat. Everything is connected.Of course, it is. I shouldn’t be surprised. But hearing him say it out loud…I’m not sure I can handle this.

“Part of your evil plan, I’m guessing?” I mutter, forcing myself to hold his gaze.

“To put it simply.”

I shake my head and bite out, “Fine. You’re evil. Good for you. I still don’t understand why you pretended to show interest in me, to get close to me. What exactly did it accomplish?” My voice sharpens. “Was I just a means for entertainment? Is your life really that dull?” I want to switch off everything I’ve ever felt for him, forget every moment we’ve shared, so maybe this won’t hurt so damn much.

He offers a bitter chuckle. “It truly has nothing to do with my entertainment.” His eyes meet mine. “You have information she wants.”

My pulse spikes as my stomach drops—it’s a dizzying mix of responses that makes me clench my jaw. “What are you talking about?” I quickly deduce that theshehe’s referring to is the queen of hell, otherwise known as his mother, but everything else remains a giant, twisted question mark.

“Your parents are in charge of the organization that poses a risk to my kind.”

“No,” I interject, “yourkind poses a risk to humans. You think creating nightmares and making people hallucinate their worst fears—just so you canfeedon them—isn’t heinous?”

Xander doesn’t answer. He just stands there looking at me like I’m some kind of curiosity to him.

My breathing falters. “Did you ever feed on me?” I can’t help but think of the night on the ferris wheel when I was having a panic attack, and he…he helped me through it.

He doesn’t miss a beat. “No.”

I stare at him for too long without speaking. The doubt in my gut feels like a brick, but I don’t have much of a choice but to believe him. “Why not?” I push. What am I expecting him to say?Because you mean something to me. Because I could never bring myself to hurt you like that. Wishful thinking is an unforgiving bitch. Xander doesn’t care about me—he probably never did.

Confusion passes over his face. “Because that’s not what you’re meant for.”

Hurt slices through my chest like shards of glass, the burn of betrayal not far behind. “Then what, Xander?” I demand. “Tell me! What am I ‘meantfor’?”

“You’ll find out when Lucia wants you to know.”

I shake my head. “That’s not an answer.”

He shrugs. “It is, just not the one you want.”

“I’m not going to help her do whatever she thinks I am.”

His expression remains impassive but there’s a tinge of something I could almost mistake as disappointment when he says, “You will.”

“Go to hell,” I growl, unable to hide the tears swimming in my eyes.

He leans in before I can turn my face away and brushes his lips across my cheek. “Come with me,” he murmurs.

I don’t give myself a moment to consider what he could possibly even mean by that before I jerk away. When I come to the conclusion he isn’t going to give me the answers I’m looking for, I say, “Leave.”

He shifts back, giving me room to breathe. “Take some time. Think carefully about what I’ve said.” Xander walks toward the door and reaches for the handle, then turns back at the last second. “I don’t need to tell you if you or your hunter friend try anything, there will be consequences,” he says in a level tone and then he walks out the door without looking back.

Seconds later, Harper flies through the door. “What the actual hell?”

I pause, letting out a breath. “Pretty much that.”

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