Hell's Belle - Eve Newton Page 0,39

him in cold blood. As far as the Demons are concerned, he did no wrong. I didn’t fight, I didn’t say no, and even if I had, so what? There are no morals down here. There is no right and wrong. Razor will hear about this and he will expect the same. He will wait on tenterhooks and I’ll make him until I’m absolutely ready to take him out. I will string him along. He will fear my every move, thinking that I will attack. He will be a paranoid mess when I’m through with him and then I will exact my revenge. I want to destroy him completely. This Gargoyle would have been killed without me. Aleister would’ve taken it into his own hands if I hadn’t stepped in. It’s the way it is. It’s the way he is. Razor doesn’t have that authority figure. He has me, and he has wronged me. I will make him pay. When he least expects it. When I’m ready.

I drop to my knees in front of Aleister and take his face in my hands. “I’m sorry,” I murmur and brush my lips over his before I stand up, step back and flame out, needing to leave him to his grief. I’m the last thing he wants to see, let alone screw right now.

I feel a tug on my essence, and I know it’s him. He wants me to return, but I won’t. I need to figure out what that means first and secondly, I need to speak to Elijah again. I know he lied to me yesterday and now I want answers.

I stifle my yawn again as I land in the courtyard of the kennels.

“You’ll be mine soon, Annabelle.”

I shake my head to clear it and wake myself up a bit. I could fall asleep on my feet after that kill, the sexual tension with Aleister and of course, no sleep last night.

The sizzle under my feet makes me move forward.

I find Elijah on his knees in one of the kennels, facing off with the middle head of one of his hounds. They are growling at each other, but she quietens down when she catches wind of me.

Elijah pauses and turns his head slowly, warily.

He turns and to my surprise, stays down. “My Queen,” he says gruffly.

“Elijah. Get up.”

He raises an eyebrow at my brusque tone, but does as I say.

“To what do I owe the honor of a third visit in two days?” he asks quietly.

“If you are hoping for another fuck, forget it. You lied to me yesterday and I want to know what’s in your desk.”

“Nothing,” he states and walks away from me, through to the back. “As you can see, it is empty.” He points to the smashed-up wood that he has neatly leaned up against the wall.

I narrow my eyes at him. “Fair enough. What was in it. I know there was a spell cast, no one has a desk with nothing in it.”

I see him debate with himself and know that I’ve got him cornered. I push it. “What did my father give you?”

He sighs and rubs his hand over his face. “Ask your brother,” he says quietly and turns from me to take off his coat and hang it up on a peg.

My heart stops for a second. “Shax?” I ask carefully. “What’s this got to do with him?”

He shrugs. “Ask him.”

“Oh, I will,” I grit out, my fists clenched. The betrayal stings. My twin is supposed to have my back and now I find out that he is hiding shit from me. I flame out, but not to kick Shax’s ass. Not yet. I’m exhausted. Every time I use my power, it gets worse. I need to sleep, but I don’t want to. My head is going a bit fuzzy, so I’m going to have to rest. I just don’t want to do it alone.

I knock quietly on Gregory’s door and wait for him to answer it instead of barging in. I’m not sure that I can take walking in on another surprise almost blow job. I feel quite territorial over my therapist. He’s mine. He isn’t here for other patients, or to get his rocks off with slutty Demons.

“Annabelle?” he asks in surprise as he opens the door cautiously. “Is everything okay?”

His concern for me almost brings tears to my eyes. I clench my jaw and tell myself it’s the tiredness.

“Can I come in?” I ask, gesturing inside.

“Of course,” he says and steps