To Hell and Back (League of Guardians 1.50)

“Who’s the girl?”

His hands fisted in spite of himself and his heart sped up. It was only a second, but her eyes narrowed.

“It’s always about a girl with you men.” Her hands fell to her sides, the perfectly manicured nails now grown into long, daggerlike talons. Her eyes were now as cold as the arctic.

“Who’s the girl?” she asked once more, though she didn’t wait for an answer as she glanced behind him and nodded ever so slightly. She knew one was never coming.

“Oh, Logan, you are a tough nut to crack, but—” She shrugged, eyes round like an innocent child. “It’s so much fun trying, and let’s face it,” she said with a wink, “what else is there for me to indulge in other than pleasure and”—her tongue flicked out from between even, white teeth—“pain.”

Hot breath fell along his back and Logan someone was there. He glared at the woman with such hatred burning in his depths he was surprised she didn’t flinch. But then why would she? The woman dined on torture and ate fear for dessert.

Searing pain shot along his left shoulder as a charmed dagger cut through his flesh.

Lilith grinned and sat on the edge of the chair, a plump cherry in her mouth, a hard glint in her eye. “Dagos,” she addressed the demon behind him. “Our hellhound is still misbehaving. I think you’re going to have to kick it up a notch, no?” She sucked the cherry into her mouth and began to chew it slowly.

The demon behind him grunted, and it took everything inside Logan to keep quiet, to hold in the scream of pain as the beast jerked the dagger deeper into his flesh. Blood spurted from the wound. It trickled down his waist, over his ass, and slid along thighs and calves before pooling upon an already blood-soaked floor.

Three more demons just like the one at his back appeared from thin air and slowly advanced toward him. Their hands curled into fists, their eyes eager.

“Let’s show Logan what happens to bad doggies when they don’t listen to their master.”

Logan growled fiercely and spoke for the first time. “You are not my master.”

Lilith licked her lips and spit out the remnants of the cherry. The pit rolled across the floor until it rested against his toe. She stood, stretched, and then settled her hands onto her hips.

“No,” she said softly.

The demon to his right plowed a heavy fist into his jaw and Logan’s necked cracked from the force of the blow.

“I suppose I’m not,” she continued. “But no one knows you’re here, so what does it matter?”

Logan didn’t have time to catch his breath or even to think of an appropriately snarky reply. The three demons attacked him full on and it was all he could do to keep his sanity—to stay conscious. But eventually even that failed, and hours later he was tossed like a bag of garbage onto Lilith’s bed.

When her demons left, the statuesque blonde cuddled up to Logan’s beaten, bloody, and broken body and slowly began to lick the blood from his skin. She curled into his side like she belonged there, like she had every right to touch him. It gave her perverse pleasure, the act of breaking something as magnificent as Logan Winters.

So much so, that she wasn’t even all that interested in why he’d been in the gray realm. Or who the woman he’d supposedly taken was. Not anymore. Her focus had shifted. She would break him. Maybe keep him as a pet for a while. At least he wasn’t boring like the pathetic creatures she’d collected of late.

And the hellhound had staying power, which meant she had hours of torture to look forward to. In a world where the monotony of her existence was getting to be just a little too much, that was priceless.

Lilith hummed a tune and twisted her fingers in the thick hair that waved and matted against her neck. She rested her head on his chest. Listened to the slow, steady beat of his heart. She hoped he would recover soon, so they could play again. She wondered what it would feel like when he eventually broke—when he eventually fucked her like all the others she’d had. Her insides quivered at the thought.

And deep within the recesses of his mind, Logan slipped away to a place that would help him heal. A magical place no one could enter save he and his mate.

Thank God for fucking miracles.

Chapter Five

* * *

THE SKY WAS as blue as a robin’s egg.

Kira was on her back, gazing up at that perfect sky, one dotted with small bits of cotton-candy clouds. For the moment there was no sound. No pain. No fear. There was nothing but those fluffy clouds and the warmth of the sun on her cheeks.

Somewhere nearby an insect buzzed. The noise started as nothing more than a mere annoyance, but then it filled her ear and the tone changed. It crashed through her, and Kira realized it wasn’t an insect at all. It was too sharp and growing louder by the second.

She turned her head to the side and winced as shards of pain hit. As her eyes focused, the pain increased and she was helpless to stop it.

Crumpled metal. A tire on its side. Glass everywhere. The smell of gasoline.