That made Carla a sick bitch, sure, but… “You’re just as fucking twisted.”

“Oh, yes. And you and I… we both have her tainted blood inside us. I don’t hate you. I don’t feel anything for you. Except for disgust, of course. You’re a Wallis, after all.” He tilted his head. “Just where did you hear about the Horsemen?”

She didn’t answer, just stared at him defiantly.

“I’ll bet you didn’t know that Isla recruited me.” Her surprise must have shown on her face, because he smiled. “There were originally only three demons working on the fall of the Primes, but then I was brought into the fold. They needed someone from Knox’s lair to report back to them – an insider who was smart and manipulative. And I think Isla liked that the person she had recruited was related to you by blood. She really did hate you, but I suppose you guessed that.” Grabbing a pair of surgical scissors, he moved closer. “Now, Harper… I doubt you’ll tell me just what Knox is. But, to be a good sport, I’ll give you one chance to tell me. If you do, I won’t make this hurt. But if you don’t, we’ll play a little before you die.”

She snorted. He was going to hurt her no matter what she did or didn’t say, and he was going to enjoy it – they both knew that.

“Just think of how much fun it will be when you die, big sister. He’ll feel it. He’ll feel that exact moment when it happens. Your anchor bond will break, and his control will break right along with it.”

“Maybe.” Harper bared her teeth. “But then you’ll die too.”

Anxiety flashed in Roan’s eyes, but it disappeared just as fast as it came. “He has no idea I’m involved and, since he has no idea where you are, he isn’t going to find out. But he is going to reveal his demon in all its glory, whether he wants to or not.”

Bastard. “If you kill me, we’ll all die.” Maybe it should have brought Harper some comfort that at least the bastards wouldn’t get away with what they’d done, but it didn’t. She didn’t want Knox to suffer. She didn’t want his demon to rage.

“I’ll give you the count of ten,” said Roan.

Well, wasn’t he a sweetheart.

“Ten.”

Fuck. Harper was going to die; there were no two ways about it. Not even in a fight where she could at least have a chance of defending herself; no, she was going to die while tied up and helpless.

“Nine.”

Her ribs felt tight around a heart that was beating so fast she was surprised it hadn’t exploded. She hated being afraid. She hated being helpless.

“Eight.”

Worse than the knowledge that she’d die tonight was the knowledge of what it would do to Knox; of how he’d blame and torment himself, especially if he learned Roan had “played” with her first.

“Seven.”

Her demon turned frantic; her rage built and built until it pumped through Harper just as fast as the adrenalin streaming through her body.

“Six.”

The warmth and smell of her blood, the sour taste of fear, the rope biting into her flesh, the burn of the slice on her stomach, the pounding pain in her skull – it all amplified her demon’s rage until the emotion inflated inside her chest like a balloon.

“Five.”

Another spike of adrenalin rushed through her, along with the inescapable truth that no one was coming to help her. And then those scissors cut into her earlobe. Her demon lunged to the surface again. It hissed. Struggled. Snarled. Writhed. Screeched in fury.

Roan laughed. “Four.”

That laugh… oh, that intensified the fury that was demanding release. Harper’s heartbeat thrashed in her ears almost as fast and loud as the soul-searing anger roaring through her. And as Harper’s anger and her demon’s fury mingled, something inside them both snapped.

“Three.”

The demon charged to the surface and let it all go – the rage, the dread, the panic, the powerlessness, the need for vengeance. Its wings snapped out, blazing with a fire that burned right through the rope. The entity bolted upright and snapped both hands around each of its opponents’ throat. At the same time, the ground shook and flames roared and crackled to life around them. Flames that were gold, red, and black.

The demon spoke through gritted teeth as it glared at Crow. “I told you I would kill you.” It tossed them both across the trailer. The back of Crow’s head hit the edge of the top kitchen cupboard and he slid to the floor with a weak groan. Roan crashed into the filing cabinet so hard the drawers flew open.

Grabbing the tie binding its legs, the demon infused hellfire into the rope, burning its way free. Roan coughed as he staggered to his feet, glancing around; taking in the flames spreading across the walls and ceiling, boxing them in.

“You have nowhere to go,” the demon told the two males as it slipped off the desk.

Crow’s eyes widened in fear and panic. “There’s no smoke. They’re the flames of hell.”

The demon smirked. “And now you are trapped, just as Harper was. For that, you will pay.”

Eyes wide, Roan swept out his hand, and the tool box flew at the demon’s head. It ducked, but the edge of the metal box clipped the demon’s temple hard enough to slice into flesh.

“That is something else you will pay for,” it told him.

“You don’t want to hurt me,” said Roan.

Oh, but it did. The demon gave an evil grin. “You cannot compel me.” Not right then, when the raw power it wielded over the flames was trickling through its veins; hot as hellfire, thick as syrup, bubbly as sparkling champagne. It sent sparks of electricity shooting to every nerve ending and filled the demon from head to toe, smoothing into every extremity.