This time, Jonathan didn’t hesitate entering Lire’s space inside the garage. He found Lire still seated in the center of the room, in the god-awful chair, but looking a little less ragged than he had earlier in the day. With his feet crossed at the ankles and his arms crossed over his chest, Lire looked bored off his ass. Jonathan held up his laptop and motioned toward the empty chair in the room.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Lire waved toward the seat as if inviting Jonathan to stay. “It’s your house.”

Since Jonathan didn’t feel that was true, he let the comment pass without response. After snagging the empty chair, he carried it to the table where the bucket of water sat. He set up his laptop. Jonathan opened a blank document and started a research list, treating this demon issue the way he would any story. He needed to concentrate on anything at all other than the mess his life had become, so he typed a list that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone other than him.

Spawn

Demons

Lilin-demon

Young women

Tourist towns: Tortola, Bahamas, research others.

Common factors: age

Not dead: supposedly

“May I ask you a question?”

Jonathan glanced up from his list and focused on Lire at the demon’s inquiry. “Sure.”

“Why are you here, hanging out with me—a demon, the same creature as the one responsible for your turn—instead of spending time with your abundance of men?”

A knot formed in Jonathan’s gut. “How do you know a demon was responsible for my turn?”

A line appeared between Lire’s eyes, as if he didn’t know what to make of Jonathan. “I was there when you were attacked. Why do you think your dark prince spent months tracking me? He wasn’t about to let me slip away. I’m the only link he has to capturing the one responsible for hurting you.”

Jonathan dropped his gaze to the computer screen, hoping to hide his reaction to Lire’s words. It seemed everyone knew Niall was a prince, except for Jonathan—his mate. “You’re not the one responsible, are you?” Jonathan asked, even though he knew Lire wasn’t. That day, as he’d slid to the floor, Jonathan had looked into the eyes of evil. He’d never forget the face of the demon who’d stolen his life—never.

“You know I am not,” Lire said, as if he could read Jonathan’s thoughts.

Jonathan flashed Lire a quick grin. “Then what does it matter if I sit with you? You must be bored to tears. Not to mention, I wanted to make sure you’d gotten the food and clothes I promised.”

Lire’s eyes changed colors while his face remained clear of all emotion. “You should go back inside, Jonathan.”

“I don’t want to, Lire,” Jonathan said. Two could play at the game of intentional name usage.

“Your clan intends to kill me. There’s no circumstance where I walk away from here. As soon as they have the information they seek, my life will come to an end. You’re not like them. The more time you spend with me, the more my death will haunt you. Please go back inside and forget I exist.”

“No.”

Lire’s eyes stopped changing, settling on blue. “Do you think I’m lying?”

Despite the heavy topic, Jonathan smiled. “No, but going back inside is a real inconvenience for me. I’ve already got my laptop all set up and everything. So, really, it would just be easier for me if you wouldn’t tell them anything they want to know until I can figure out how to save you.”

A smile exploded across Lire’s face. “You’re an odd man. Even though there’s no hope of my life being spared, I’m grateful you’d think to try.” Lire straightened in his seat. “You never answered my question. Why are you hiding out here?”

Jonathan set his elbows on the table before resting his chin on his fists. He held Lire’s stare as he tried to decide what or how much to say. Finally, he chose to be vague. “I guess, in a way, I’m a prisoner here too.”

Lire nodded, looking unfazed by the confession. “As the prince’s mate, your clan would keep you sheltered from harm, I imagine. I’m sure it gets quite tiresome.”

The more Lire spoke, the more Jonathan wanted to know. He’d always possessed an insatiable need for information. “How do you know I’m the prince’s mate?” Jonathan stopped short of admitting even he hadn’t known before that morning.

Lire motioned toward the designs painting the room. “All this is meant to keep me prisoner, but this doesn’t do much to bind my powers.”

Instead of looking like an idiot, Jonathan minimized his document and opened his web browser.

Lire’s laughter filled the room. “Google can’t tell you what powers I have, Jonathan. Each demon is unique, and that’s a man-made system.”

Jonathan’s cheeks burned.

Lire’s expression went from amused to heated in an instant. “You’re not very good at keeping your innocence hidden.”

“You’re not very good at keeping your nice hidden.”

Lire’s expression hardened. “I’m not nice.”

“I’m not innocent,” Jonathan shot back.

Lire sat forward in his seat, holding Jonathan captivated by his ever-changing eye color. “Touch my hand, and I’ll show you everything.”

A snort escaped Jonathan before he could call it back. “I’m sure. Right before you kill me.”

Lire’s expression never changed. “No games. I won’t hurt you. Touch my hand,” he repeated, cajoling Jonathan with his voice.

Some ridiculous form of fuck-it-all rose inside Jonathan. Dougal had sworn Jonathan would be safe thanks to their ancient symbols. He might not trust Lire, but he did trust his clan. They wouldn’t have asked for his help if they weren’t one hundred percent certain Lire couldn’t harm him. Of course, they’d also been just as sure Jonathan had enough sense to stay out of the circle drawn around Lire’s chair. Shows what they know about my level of good sense, Jonathan thought as he came to his feet.

Before he could change his mind, Jonathan crossed the room. Lire watched his every move—like a lion stalking its prey. Still, Jonathan didn’t slow. As he stepped across the lines drawn on the floor, the air rippled, as if he’d walked through an invisible wall. Lire stood. There wasn’t an ounce of triumph written on his face. Yet the first hint of real fear still settled on Jonathan’s shoulders. Slumped in his seat, Lire hadn’t looked anywhere near as imposing as he did now, towering over Jonathan.

Too late, Jonathan questioned his judgment. Even his late-to-the-game common sense didn’t stop Jonathan from accepting Lire’s outstretched hand. Their palms met. The demon’s skin was even hotter than Jonathan imagined it would be. Lire lightly squeezed Jonathan’s hand, and nothing happened. A wicked glint lit Lire’s eyes. A single red rose appeared in Lire’s free hand. He passed it Jonathan’s way.

“You’re right,” Lire said as Jonathan accepted his gift. “Innocence isn’t your issue. You’re touched in the head.”

“Possibly,” Jonathan said as he brought the flower to his nose. “But this encounter has told me more than you intended, I believe.”

Lire’s lips turned up in the corners, becoming almost as wicked as his eyes. “Do tell.”

Before Jonathan could decide how much he should admit, the door opened. Panic overtook Jonathan. He glanced around, hoping for an exit to save him. It didn’t matter who it was, Jonathan was doomed. If anyone found him inside Lire’s demon trap, today would be the day he’d end up locked in his room and wrapped in cellophane. Lire squeezed his hand, pulling Jonathan’s attention his way. The demon touched his finger to his lips, gesturing for Jonathan to be quiet.

Jonathan nodded.

Lire leaned close and touched his lips to the shell of Jonathan’s ear. He whispered something in Latin. Jonathan’s skin tingled—like ants crawled over his body. “Head for the door,” Lire said. His lips brushed Jonathan’s ear with each word. “I promise no one will see you.”

Dougal stepped into the room.

Lire sat.

Jonathan did as Lire said and moved for the door.

Dougal’s eyes never wavered from Lire’s. Jonathan didn’t understand what Lire had done, but Dougal couldn’t see him. He slowed as he passed Dougal, half expecting to be caught. Dougal turned his head as if he felt a shift in the air. Jonathan held his breath and froze.

Dougal motioned toward the table. Jonathan had to jump back to keep from getting hit. “I see you’ve had company.”

Jonathan glanced over. His gaze landed on his laptop. He tilted his chin toward the ceiling and threw a silent fit. He was such an idiot. In his panic to not get caught with Lire, he’d completely forgotten about his computer.

“Your friend has been full of questions for me today,” Lire said, sounding bored by it all.

Dougal took a step toward the laptop. “Let’s see what the genius in our bunch has to say about you.”

Jonathan glanced Lire’s way. Panic owned him. He couldn’t let Dougal see his notes. Lire wasn’t good. Jonathan had felt the man’s darkness the moment their hands met, but neither was Lire evil. Jonathan couldn’t let his clan kill Lire. If they saw his notes and realized how much Jonathan had learned, Lire might not make it until Jonathan could find a way to save him.

Lire met his gaze and winked. “Don’t be tiresome, Blondy,” Lire said, snapping his fingers. The computer popped, and the screen went black. “If you have questions, ask them yourself.”

Jonathan’s shoulders sagged with relief. He inched toward the door once more. Once he reached it, another problem arose. There was no way he could open it without drawing attention to himself. He glanced Lire’s way again, searching for help. He didn’t know how Lire could save him this time, but he knew the demon had magic. Jonathan would venture to say Lire was more powerful than anyone realized. Lire’s gaze flickered in Jonathan’s direction. He covered his mouth as if hiding a yawn. Jonathan’s skin tingled again.

“Here’s your genius now,” Lire said. “You can question him on our chat.”

Dougal glanced behind him, looking more than a little surprised Jonathan had gotten the drop on him. “You’re back.”

“Just long enough to grab my laptop,” Jonathan said, motioning toward the device as if Dougal might not have seen it sitting there.

The huge vamp’s eyebrows rose. “Is there a reason you’re carrying a rose around?”

Jonathan glanced down and blinked. He’d never been a good liar. He was a journalist at heart and dealt in facts. “I forgot I had it,” Jonathan said, deciding to go with his strength—honesty.

Dougal shook his head. “You’re a verra odd man.”

Lire snorted.

Jonathan’s shoulders fell. “That seems to be the general consensus,” Jonathan said as he moved to gather his laptop.

“Be careful,” Dougal said, nodding toward the computer. “Our guest did something to it. You shouldn’t leave anything alone with him.”

He didn’t meet Dougal’s gaze. It was best for everyone if he got out of there as quickly as possible before he gave himself away. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. If not, it’s old and needs replacing anyhow.”

Lire chuckled. It was as sexy as it was evil sounding. “I gave it an update.”

Dougal snorted. “More likely, he gave it a virus.”

“I only give viruses the fun way,” Lire said, keeping Dougal engaged.

“There’s literally nothing sexy about what you just said.”

Jonathan made a break for it while they were distracted. He didn’t breathe an easy breath until the door closed behind him. The moment it did, the rose transformed into a slip of paper. For a full minute, Jonathan stared it—transfixed. It was a bit frightening how powerful Lire was, even with safeguards in place.

He tucked the laptop under his arm and unfolded the paper. There was one piece of information scratched inside, and it meant everything.

Port of Southern Louisiana.

Jonathan now held Lire’s life in his hands.