His head jerked around. He didn’t like that tone. Not one bit.
Who was this demon who dared to challenge him for this prize?
Sharp little nails clawed at his forearm. The female flailed, trying desperately to get away. Irritated, he tossed the female aside, turning to fully face his challenger, dismissing the pained whoosh of breath as the female crashed into something and fell to the floor with a dull thud.
“Mikhail,” his challenger barked. “Get the Halfling back to the farm.”
Temptation’s head snapped to the side, only now aware of the other demon in the room. A tall bastard, bald, scarred, and ugly as sin. Temptation snarled as the second demon approached the female. That belonged to him.
The big, scarred demon bristled with aggression.
“Not now, Mikhail,” the first demon said quietly. “He’s too far gone. Just take care of the Halfling.”
“He is beyond reason, Seer,” the big demon warned.
“I know,” the challenger said, his voice resigned. “Just get her out of here.”
Temptation watched the byplay between the two, not really caring what they were saying. Were they here to fight, or talk? Because he wasn’t interested in talking. Only in blood. Their blood.
“I’m sorry about this, Gideon.” The challenger lunged toward Temptation, wrapping massive arms around him. They crashed to the floor. Roaring, Temptation turned his full attention on the challenger. That was all the time it took for the second demon to snatch up his prize. Then the second demon shimmered, taking the unconscious female with him.
Fury rolled through him as the soothing, strangely familiar scent of vanilla and cinnamon faded.
A meaty fist clipped Temptation in the jaw. “Snap out of it, Gideon.” Another blow caught him in the temple. “We need you now, you bloody bastard. Calm down!”
Temptation swung wildly, connecting with the challenger’s ribs, driving a satisfying whoosh of air from his lungs as bone snapped.
“Damn it, Gideon. I didn’t want to have to do it this way.” The challenger held up something in his fist. Small, metallic. Temptation sniffed the air, wary now.
A powerful electrical charge zapped into his chest, bringing him to his knees. Another jolt streamed into the side of his neck, even more powerful than the first, and his huge body convulsed as wave after wave of electrical currents slammed through him. Darkness claimed him before his head hit the floor.
Gideon woke with a start as ice cold water splashed onto his face. His gaze whipped around the room, and he realized he was lying on the floor. He took in the fireplace, the hunting lodge décor, and realized he was at Sebastian’s farm. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there. But that was nothing new. He’d often woken up in a different place after going demonic. The trick was trying to remember what he’d done while in demonic form. Sometimes, he never remembered.
Those times were, more often than not, a blessing.
“He’s coming to,” he heard Carly call out.
Niklas’s face came into his line of sight.
“Good to have you back, buddy.”
“What happened?” The room spun, but he shook his head. Whatever it was, it had been something fiercely important. “Where’s Maggie?”
Niklas and Carly exchanged worried glances.
Gideon turned to the tall demon leaning over the sofa a few feet away. His bald head was tipped forward in concentration, and his broad back blocked most of the woman from Gideon’s sight. But he’d know those legs anywhere.
Gideon rushed across the room. Maggie lay on the couch, unconscious, barely breathing. Blood smeared the side of her face. One arm lay across her stomach, her wrist swollen, black and blue, and bent at an impossible angle. A large, bloody tear in her shirt revealed a still healing, pink splash of skin.
Only by sheer dint of will did Gideon refrain from going demonic and possessively shoving Mikhail’s large hands away from where they hovered over her chest. Mikhail was healing her, he reminded himself. But it didn’t help much. The idea of any male touching her for any reason turned his vision red with jealousy.
Anxious, Gideon looked to Mikhail’s face. Mikhail’s expression was grim, focused. A muscle clenched in his jaw. A bead of perspiration rolled down the side of his face, pooling in the deep scars.
“What the hell happened to her?” Gideon demanded, whirling to confront Niklas.
Niklas reached over and, grasping Carly’s elbow, tugged her behind him. Shielding her from Gideon’s wrath, no doubt.
“Do you remember going to Maggie’s house?” Niklas asked in a soft voice.
Frowning, Gideon slowly nodded. He remembered shimmering there. Maggie had called him a jackass. The muscle in his cheek jumped at the memory. But then he frowned. Something had felt wrong once they’d gone inside the house. Maggie had felt it too.
Mortika?.