Page 45 of A Spark Of Revenge

“Would you please get your ass over here so I can give you a damn sword?” he grinds out, running the claw over the pad of his thumb before sliding it on the wood. Black sparks of magic appear for a moment before the cabinet opens, revealing Lennox’s impressive weapons arsenal. I glare at him, but the urge to look at all the pretty swords and knives is too much to resist, so I walk over, ignoring Nox’s smug look as I peer into the cabinet.

“Wow,” I mutter, reaching out to run my hand over a particularly beautiful kalis. The handle is gold engraved with a long dragon, his head by the blade and tail wrapped around a black stone at the end. And the blade is made of some kind of black material.

“Don’t!” Nox practically shouts, snatching my hand in his as he yanks me away from the blade in question.

“What the hell, Lennox?” I snarl, looking up at the big Viking and glaring my displeasure.

“It's onyx!” he snarls back like that somehow explains his weird behavior.

“And what of it? Oh, wait… shit. Onyx is for protection against Demons,” I whisper, and Nox nods.

“That cuts you, and it will hurt worse than anything you have felt in your entire life.” I frown at him, seriously doubting his words. Not that getting cut with the blade wouldn't hurt, but I doubt it would be worse than getting attacked by a Beastia and carrying the scars on my back for the rest of my life.

“Okay. I won’t touch it,” I agree, staying calm rather than yelling at him. He was only trying to be helpful and ensure I didn't get hurt. See… I can be nice. “But why have a blade that can hurt you?” I ask as Nox releases his hold, stepping back in front of the cabinet.

“Not all Demons are good, Meyer. It's only smart to keep one on hand,” Nox lectures, reaching into the cupboard and coming out with a small sword. “Here,” he offers, turning and gesturing for me to take the tiny thing. I frown and reach for it, my eyes widening when I realize the sword is bigger and much heavier than I initially thought. It had only appeared small in Nox’s enormous hands.

“Oh, it's heavy.”

Nox chuckles and nods. “It needs to be in order to inflict some damage. Don't worry. Creed will ensure you're strong enough to wield it,” Nox says confidently, surprising me as he smiles just the smallest amount. I watch him for a moment, looking from his dark eyes to the small hoop nose ring, then to his full lips. As much as I hate it, Nox is good-looking, and when he smiles… Well, he’s almost otherworldly.

“Thanks,” I mutter awkwardly, as I nod at the sword and roll my lips together. Nox grunts, nodding back at me and suddenly, everything feels… weird. Shit, what do I say next? Thankfully, the door to Nox’s office opens, letting in Creed and Valen. Both of them look a little red in the face, but Creed smiles at his brother while Valen sighs and nods, then looks at me.

“You ready?” he asks, and I frown.

“Like… right this moment? Because I’m hungry,” I admit, making Creed laugh.

“We can grab food first. I haven't had lunch yet either.”

“Good idea. Razar?” Nox says in a low voice, making me frown and look around Creed and Valen to see if the cloaked man is standing behind them. “You want to accompany them down to the cafeteria and make sure the three Hunters we discussed this morning aren't giving Elaine any trouble?”

Confused, I look around, then watch as Razar steps from the shadows in the corner of Nox’s office, his cloak pulled low over his face, hiding his stunning features as he nods and leaves the office.

“What the hell? Has he been here the whole time?” I ask, not sure if I’m impressed or terrified.

“Of course,” Nox scoffs, then looks at Creed.

“Yeah! I know, geez. You two need to take a chill pill,” Creed grumbles, pointing at Valen and then Nox, cutting off whatever Nox was about to tell him. Nox gives Creed a dark look before nodding at him. “We need to talk about everything Valen and I discovered in the church, but it can wait until I talk with Father. Make sure she is well fed,” he adds, gesturing at me as he looks down at some papers on his desk. “If you see Elaine, send her up. I want an update about the Russians.”

“Sure,” Creed agrees, stepping up next to me and taking the heavy sword from my hands with a low, impressed whistle. “Damn. She’s a beauty,” he praises under his breath, eyes flashing in excitement as he runs them over the length of the sword.

“Right?!” I whisper back, running my finger over the delicate-looking vines and roses, taking a moment to appreciate the pretty sword. Just then… in a room filled with three hot Demons, my stomach decides to voice its impatience for food and rumbles so loudly I almost jump.

“Uh, sorry,” I whisper in mortification. “I haven't eaten very much over the last couple of days,” I try to explain as my face heats. Valen growls under his breath as Nox nods at Creed, widening his eyes at his brother as Creed grabs my hand. But Valen is faster, yanking me to him and placing the softest of kisses on my forehead, sending shivers down my spine as he sighs then leans down, our foreheads touching in an oddly sweet moment. “Give him hell, Mia Regina,” he rasps and I nod as a growl echoes around the room, making it hard to figure out which Demon it came from. Creed steps forward, lacing our fingers as he pulls me out of Valen’s arms and toward the door.

“Come on, Lemon Drop. Let's feed you so you're not so hangry,” Creed chuckles, ignoring my scowl at him as I try, and fail, to pull my hand out of his.

TWENTY-TWO

Meyer

SMACK!

“Ow! Dammit Creed!” I hiss, shoving him in the chest as I rub the back of my hand, making him shake his head, irritation clear on his face.

After an awkward as fuck training session yesterday, I had been exhausted, gone back up to Creed's room, and didn't leave until Jordan came knocking on the door this morning. Creed hadn’t tried to come into his room, which I wasn't sure if I was happy or disappointed about.

Being in such close contact with him yesterday had my body heated, and I was just about ready to jump his delicious body the last time he stepped behind me, reaching around to correct my fighting stance. Having every inch of his firm, muscled chest pressed to my back made me feel things I’ve been trying to forget.

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