Chapter 10

10

BONES

" Y ou need to get laid, man," Chainz drawls from where he sits, sprawled out with his legs extended, at the conference table. I'm sitting at the computer station Stubs and I share. He's the main IT and computer genius, but I'm close on his heels. Well, heel, I think with a mental chuff. There's a reason why he's called Stubs and it's absolutely because of the gnarly stub at the bottom of his left shin where his ankle and foot used to be.

Before he lost it down the throat of a hellcat. Stubs hadn't let the beast get away with it, shoving his blade down the hellcat's mouth as a mortal chaser.

"Fuck off," I toss over my shoulder, gritting my teeth as my fingers fly over the wireless keyboard perched on my lap.

We're at the main office of Cerberus Securities, the Knights of Hades first legitimate business after establishing ourselves in Devil's Haven. Reaper had bought the rundown empty warehouse that'd been full of broken factory machinery and other shit abandoned decades previous. We all put months of sweat and blood into the place until it became a place we could be proud of bringing clients into.

For security purposes, we never added in windows to the walls which leaves the front double glass doors as the only inlet for natural lighting. The outside still looks weathered, but there's only so much you can do to protect corrugated metal from the harsh weather of the desert. Inside, though, the walls are over a foot thick, fully insulated and armor plated. Then we put up pale wood panels that keeps the place feeling light and open. `

Every single one of us Knights of Hades had had enough of dark, dreary places to last us the rest of our incredibly long lifetimes.

We're in the front half of the restored warehouse, with the back half only accessed by a metal door. That's where Reaper's private office is as well as access to our armory and gear stock, our garage, and the stairs to Reaper's loft upstairs.

Stubs glances at me from the side of his eye before looking back at the bank of monitors in front of us. "You've been on edge lately."

I groan. "Not you, too. I'm fucking fine."

"Seriously, when was the last time you got laid? Didn't you have that hot biker bunny more than ready to suck your dick last weekend at the bar?"

Chainz isn't wrong. Last weekend, the club rode out to another town on business and wrapped up the night at the local dive bar. The local girls were more than happy for fresh faces and I know exactly what chick he's talking about. Big, blown out hair, plump cherry red lips, flannel button down tied in a knot under her big rack with shorts tiny enough her ass was practically hanging out, all finished off with a pair of cowboy boots.

I never bothered with her name, most of us don't when it's just a one night thing. She was draped all over me, her tits practically in my face. And what did I do? Not a gods damned thing. It was like my cock was dead. It's not like I didn't try. But when I buried my face in her neck, thinking that if I tasted her I might be able to get my head on straight, guilt contorted in my chest and I couldn't do it. It felt like I was committing a betrayal.

Betrayal of a woman who is so off-limits it isn't even funny. In fact, it's fucking misery after I tasted her lips for the first time.

My cock twitches to life just at the thought of Sloan. Because of course it fucking does.

When she asked so sweetly for a single kiss, I couldn't hold back anymore. I had to kiss her more than I had to breathe. The taste of her lips? Instantly addictive.

That kiss was everything. My tattered, fucked up soul didn't deserve to be in the same room as her let alone kiss her. Reaper had made it clear I was to keep it professional between us. So, instead of dragging her into the helicopter with me and taking her sweet gasps into my mouth as I made her body mine, I ended the kiss. I left, and have avoided her since.

"Unlike you, I don't need to fuck every chick who sits on my lap," I bite out at Chainz, who laughs.

"They don't need to sit on my lap for me to fuck them."

"Who is Chainz fucking?" Blaze asks as he and Brute walk in from the back garage.

"Who am I not, brother?" Chainz offers Blaze a smirk and his fist. Blaze then Brute bump their fists against his and Blaze takes a seat at the table next to him. "With Cinder and you off the hunt, someone has to make sure the ladies aren't left disappointed."

"Better not let them see your cock, then," Brute quips as he heads towards the open kitchen area. He opens the cabinets and closes them. "How the fuck are we out of coffee? Stubs?"

"Ain't my job to grocery shop," Stubs grumbles before shooting me a grin as he takes a drink of his own coffee.

"We need to look at hiring someone, for real," Brute complains after grabbing a soda from the fridge. "Swear if it wasn't for the girls who hang at the clubhouse, we'd never have food."

"Or clean clothes," Chainz agrees. "Fucking hate laundry."

Which is why so many of the guys live at the clubhouse despite them all having their own apartments in the same building as me. In fact, Reaper and Stubs are the only ones of us who don't sleep at the clubhouse outside of town. At least Reaper put his foot down- heh- when it came to letting Reaper live at the HQ. If the prez would let him, Stubs would never sleep. He'd stay plugged into the computers, devouring information like a black hole.

The front door opens, all of us swinging our heads around towards it. Reaper walks in first, his normal cool expression on his face. The man oozes confidence and power. I've lost count of how many battles I've followed him into and he got us out of each one alive. Even the ones where we shouldn't have survived.

I brace myself, but it's futile. My full attention zeros in on Sloan the moment she slips through the opening between the tinted glass doors. Cinder's scarred hand grips the edge of the door above her. My blood spikes at how close she is to the other male.

"So that's the way of it," Stubs states dryly, low enough that only us demons nearby can hear.

I shoot him a glare, but he's still peering at the monitor displaying grainy black and white security footage. "The fuck you mean?"

Blaze huffs a laugh and my head snaps towards him. He's got a damned arrogant look on his face, and even Chainz looks amused. "You were growling, brother. Don't like how close ya girl was to Cinder, eh?"

"She's not my girl," I argue. "I'm the last thing she needs and Reaper made it clear she was off-limits for me."

"Huh," Chainz says, sitting up to lean over the table, resting his forearms on the top. He inclines his head towards the trio walking towards us and pitches his voice low. "So, then you won't care if I take her for a ride? Maybe let her ride me--"

My chair crashes to the floor, the wireless keyboard flung towards the computer desk, as I launch myself across the distance between him and me. I grip him by the neck, lowering my macabre face close to his, the shadows of my powers beginning to swirl around my legs as the need to beat the shit out of him has me snarling. The bones I've stashed throughout the building and the ones I've sewn carefully into my vest begin to rattle. Chainz, the motherfucker, keeps my stare, the damn smirk never leaving his face.

"There a problem, soldiers?" An arctic chill fills the air at Reaper's icy words.

"No, sir," I mutter and let go of Chainz, his ass dropping him back into the chair I'd pulled him from. Pulling my powers back, I refuse to look up at them, berating myself internally at the violent display. The sour scent of fear is faint and there's only one person in this room that would be afraid. It's just another fucking reason why I need to stay the hell away from Sloan. No matter how much I want to claim her and make her mine in every way. I retreat back to my seat beside Stubs, who gives me a glare as he hands me the keyboard back. He doesn't let go of it right away, and I roll my eyes but nod. Yeah, messaged received, don't hurt the tech.

"Just testing something, sir." The smugness in Chainz voice has me clenching my jaw. I'm this fucking close to losing it on the bastard, no matter what bullshit we've survived together over the centuries. "Nothing that'll come up again."

"Good. Ms. Davis, take a seat please."

Like a damn addict, I only move my eyes as I keep my head bowed over the keyboard. Looking at her from the side like this isn't enough, but it's all I'll allow. She's wearing a gray t-shirt that is nothing special, yet it's the sexiest fucking thing on her; fitting close enough to caress her breasts and flat stomach but loose enough to suggest modesty. Except I'm quickly coming to realize that Sloan could be wearing coarse feed sacks and my cock would be fucking hard and my mouth drooling. Her blonde hair is in a loose braid draped over her shoulder. My fingers itch to wrap the braid around my fist so I can tug her face back and let me get my next fix of her taste.

Reaper beginning the meeting snaps me back to attention. The knowledge of what she's about to learn has that same protective anxiety sending jolts of energy through me. I start bouncing my foot on my heel, unable to contain it.

"We have confirmed that Father Xavius escaped the assault and later, Devil's Haven. We've tracked him through multiple securities CCTVs to the city of Tyler, about 3 hours to the east. Before we go further, I need you to be honest with us. How much do you know about your abilities?"

The faint scent of fear grows stronger and I can't help looking at her. The need to protect Sloan from anything and everything builds inside of me. When her trepidation filled eyes meet mine, nothing will stop me from going to her.