READ AN EXCERPT BELOW
When my only lead turns to ash in the middle of demon territory, I’m suddenly a dead witch walking. Violence in Samael’s club is an automatic death sentence… unless he can use you. And it turns out that the most powerful demon in the country has a use for little ol’ me. I’ve got two weeks to find the killer, and if I fail, I’m bonded to Samael. Forever.
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I was dead meat. I was going to be killed by a demon so beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him.
Blue-black hair stood ruffled on his head, as if he’d just pushed his hand through it in frustration. I’d seen the lower half of his face once before, so my gaze darted over the sharp line of his jaw, the scruff along his chin, and the cheekbones that seemed to be slashed through a face that would make angels weep.
His silver eyes burned into mine, his lush mouth twisted, and a scar cut through one eyebrow— the only flaw in an otherwise perfect face.
“Well, this is interesting.”
I flinched at the promise of death in his voice. His gaze shifted to the demon on the floor, his extremities already ash.
“I didn’t kill him,” I blurted out, and Samael shifted his gaze back to me, scanning me from head to toe. His gaze lingered on my face and I wiped at the blood smeared above my lip.
“You broke my ward,” he mused. I didn’t know how he could make such inane words sound like a death threat, but my hand tightened on my knife. At the very least, I could go out fighting.
“It wasn’t easy,” I admitted. “Listen, I think I have some explaining to do. This isn’t what it looks like.”
“You didn’t come into my territory and threaten one of my patrons with bodily harm, even though violence is forbidden without my permission? That patron wasn’t killed by someone who managed to escape my ward while you were trapped in it?”
I blinked. “Fine. Turns out it’s exactly what it looks like.” I attempted a nonchalant shrug. Samael ignored me and turned his head as another demon approached.
“Get Sitri,” he ordered, and the demon faded away. Just a few seconds later, another demon appeared.
Where Samael was beautiful, this demon was almost pretty. His dark hair fell over his face, hiding his eyes, which were a pale purple— almost lavender.
“Invitation,” Samael ordered, and I tensed. “Please,” he murmured, “disobey me. I haven’t gotten my hands dirty for weeks.”
I shuddered, opened my tiny purse, and withdrew the invitation.
Samael jerked his head and Sitri stepped forward, taking the invitation.
He smiled at it, like a kid who’d been given a lollipop. “Ooh,” he said. “Whoever made this is interesting.”
I shuddered again. Appearing interesting to these demons could only be a bad thing.
Sitri disappeared and I stood still, waiting to hear my fate. I wasn’t stupid enough to try to escape just yet. I’d only have one chance, and until then, I needed to appear non-threatening.
Samael stepped forward and yanked my purse off my shoulder. He rifled through it, snorting as he shoved a collection of small throwing knives aside. Finally, he pulled out my ID card.
“Danica Amana,” he read. “I’ve heard of you, bounty hunter. You’ve made quite a name for yourself in the past six months.”
Yeah, because unlike most other bounty hunters, I wasn’t motivated by money but by something much more important.
I stayed silent as he studied me. His voice was an amused purr. “It won’t work, you know.”
“What won’t work?”
“Waiting for your chance to escape. There are no chances here.”
I bared my teeth at him. He bared his back. His teeth were scarier.
Sitri reappeared. “It’s a fake,” he sang out. “A very good fake, but a fake all the same.” He held up a picture of Steve. “According to the witch, this man is responsible.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. It was one thing for the consequences to be my own, but I couldn’t let Steve die for my actions.
“You have two choices,” Samael said, and I had a feeling I wasn’t going to like either of them. I tilted my head, refraining from waving him on. Being a smart-ass wouldn’t win me any points with this guy. “Your first choice? Both you and the traitor die. This Steve dies harder, begging for death for daring to cross me.”
He’d do it too. I could see it on his face. He’d squash me like a bug, and leave my corpse lying here on the floor. He’d make Steve wish he’d never met me before he died. Then he’d have a drink or two with his associates before he tucked himself into bed, where he’d sleep like a fucking baby.
Dread filled my stomach. “And the second choice?”
“You work for me.”
“In what capacity?”
His gaze dropped to the demon on the floor. “This isn’t the first death in the past few weeks, although it’s a different method. Something is hunting demons, and your reputation precedes you. You’ll be my personal bounty hunter.”