Unless, of course, Lysander wanted her to overpower him.


Aha. Now Strider understood what Zacharel had meant.


The two were engaged in a sexual marathon, and Lysander had given control to Bianka. They may not see him for several years. One thing Strider had learned about the Harpy when she’d visited the fortress was that she enjoyed power and didn’t relinquish it easily.


Lucky Lysander.


Strider could have tasted a Harpy of his own, he supposed, since Bianka had two single sisters. Taliyah and Kaia.


Taliyah was the ice princess, as seemingly emotionless as Zacharel, but Strider had never been interested in her.


Now, Kaia on the other hand, wel , she was the wildfire.


He’d been interested. Real y interested—until she’d slept with Paris, keeper of Promiscuity. Strider had decided then not to bother with her. Who could compete with a freaking god of sex?


To be honest, Strider was sick of competing in the bedroom al the damn time. Sick of having to be the best lover his partner had ever had. It had gotten old. There was nothing wrong with a guy wanting to lie back and let the woman do al the work for once.


If Defeat had been awake, the demon would have said,


“Win.” Strider almost wished the little shit would speak up.


Woulda been nice to trample on his feelings by shouting,


“Shut the hel up!” The bastard had gotten Strider into this mess, after al .


“And…he’s off again,” Torin muttered wryly.


“Am not.” Strider flipped him off. “Tel me this at least,” he said to the angel. “Can the girl, being infected as she is with something you stupidly won’t tel me about, contaminate Amun? Make him worse?”


A moment passed in silence as the angel considered the question. And wouldn’t you know it? He gave no reaction to the word stupidly. “No.”


Al right, then. Strider would forget about Ex’s “infection.”


For now.


“So what are we going to do about Amun and the girl?”


Torin asked, getting them back on track. Again. He leaned back in his chair, resting his ankle against his knee, hands twined over his middle. A casual pose, if not for the lines of tension branching from his mouth.


Zacharel eyed the keeper of Disease as if he’d lost his brain when he’d gained his demon. “We wil test our theory, of course. We wil put her back inside Amun’s room.”


“Hel , no!” Strider snarled. And not because those sparks of jealousy had instantly lit back up and now poured through his veins like streams of acid. “He’s defenseless, and she’l hurt him.”


“She didn’t before.”


“That doesn’t mean she’l be a tame house cat next time!”


“If things continue as they are, I wil kil him.” The words were so simply stated, Strider had no doubt Zacharel meant what he said. “Your choice. I wil be satisfied one way or the other.”


Not real y a choice at al , the bastard. He had to know that.


“I’l have to clear out Amun’s room and remove…” Shit.


“Everything except the bed.” Anything could be used as a weapon. As he’d already learned. “The window wil need iron bars.” Hunters were notoriously adept and wily. Look what Ex had done with a simple piece of glass.


His stomach ached in remembrance, the scab pul ing tight.


“Maybe we should break her hands, too,” Torin suggested, shocking the sweet loving hel out of Strider.


He was usual y the voice of semi-reason. “I don’t want her able to snap his neck or pluck his eyes while he’s defenseless.”


Zacharel shrugged, drawing attention to the breadth of his shoulders—and making Strider grit his teeth in annoyance that he’d noticed. What was wrong with him? Men were not his personal preference. “She didn’t before,” the angel remarked.


“That doesn’t mean she’l be a tame house cat next time,”


Torin repeated, mimicking Strider’s earlier you’re-a-moron tone.


“That’s when she thought she could escape with him,”


Strider forced himself to say. Because deep down, he stil didn’t like the thought of hurting her. He lost more IQ points every day, he decided. “This time, she’l know there’s no way she can free herself. She’l know she’s helpless and needs to curry our favor.”


Torin’s eyes widened. “You’re actual y voting to leave her be? A Hunter? What’d she stab you with? A magic wand laced with Prozac?”


“No, I’m not voting to leave her be.” Damn it! He had. “Fine.


We’l break her hands.” He wasn’t going to argue about her treatment. She deserved what she got, and he would just have to pacify himself with that knowledge.


“One other thing to consider,” Zacharel said. “Amun fought to reach her, and al of my warriors were needed to subdue him. If you hurt her, I think he wil object. And if he objects, I think many in this household wil be injured. But again, I give the choice to you.”


How magnanimous of him, Strider thought dryly. Zacharel had a gift for ripping your rationale apart with only a few words. But…Torin couldn’t force the issue now.


Stil . Prick that he was, Strider wasn’t exactly ready to back down yet, no matter that he was getting what he’d original y wanted. Zacharel irritated him, and part of him hoped to irritate the guy right back.


At least garner some kind of reaction.


“If we decided we wanted it done, would you be the one to do the breaking?”


“Of course,” Zacharel said easily.


Strider blinked at him. Not the answer he’d expected. Feet shuffling, maybe. A little waffling, for sure.


“But you’re an angel. Aren’t you supposed to be defenders of humanity or something?”


“She is not exactly human.”


“Then what is she?” The question whipped from him, his eagerness to know unparal eled.


“I do not have permission to tel you.”


The eagerness deflated like a bal oon, and Strider gnawed the inside of his cheek to keep himself from snarling. When Lysander final y crawled his way out of wild Bianka’s bed, Strider was going to have a long chat with him. He suspected daggers would be used between every word.


“We won’t damage her,” Strider final y said. “And I have a few conditions. I have to be the one to escort her to Amun.”


Just as soon as he could walk. He didn’t like the thought of anyone else putting their hands on her. She was—not his.


“Also, I want a camera in the room.” The words emerged harder, harsher. “We’l monitor what goes on twenty-five, eight.”


Torin nodded, his expression half satisfied, half steeped in guilt. “I’l have them placed and recording within the hour.”


There were cameras strategical y hidden throughout the entire fortress just in case Hunters snuck past their gate and traps, but not in any of the bedrooms. They’d al agreed. If the enemy could bypass everything else and enter one of the rooms, the Lords deserved to die. Privacy was that important.


If Amun ever regained his senses completely, he’d be pissed as hel about the new cameras. But better his fury than his murder.


Zacharel straightened from the post. “I’l inform my men of what is to transpire.” With that, he turned with the fluid grace of a dancer and strode from the room.


A dancer? Seriously?


Strider’s cheeks heated a whole hel of a lot more than before.


When Torin made no comment about his blush, he relaxed against his pil ows. As a sigh left him, he realized how tense he’d been in the angel’s presence. Now he scanned the bedroom, al owing the familiarity of his surroundings to comfort him further. His weapon col ection decorated the wal s, everything from ancient swords to modern-day firearms.


Only thing hanging on the wal that wasn’t a weapon was the portrait just over the bed. No. Not true, he thought then. The portrait was a weapon, too. Of seduction. In it, Strider was utterly naked and whisking through the clouds like an avenging angel. He was holding a teddy bear in one hand and a stream of pink ribbons in the other.


Anya had given him the nearly life-size monstrosity as a joke. But the joke was on her. He loved the damn thing.


“Where are the others?” he final y asked. “The other day you told me they were out and about, but not where exactly.


Or why. I’ve had a little time to think this through, and I realized they don’t need to keep the artifacts out of the fortress anymore. The Hunters aren’t swarming us like before. Word on the street is they vanished, which is bizarre, but Cronus says not to worry—and yeah, I talked to him, he just popped in the other day for no apparent reason


—so I’m not worried. Which means you aren’t, either.


Which means the boyz are away for a different reason.


Right?”


Torin’s sigh was an echo of his. “It’s just too dangerous around here, what with the angels being demon assassins and Amun visiting the dark side. Aeron, Olivia, Legion, Wil iam and Gil y are the only ones stil here. Not because I need help, but because they’re too weak to leave. And wel , Aeron has taken the blame for Amun’s condition and refuses to leave him. Not that you’ve paid any of them a visit, you slacker.”


Gods, he was, wasn’t he? “Thank you for shoving me down the shame spiral. How are they?”


“The guys are stil recovering from Hel Week, and the girls are taking care of them. Wel , except for Legion. She refuses to get out of bed.”


Aeron must be worried about her, too. Strider real y should have checked on him. On al of them. I’m a self-absorbed prick.


“The rest of the crew is spread out,” Torin said, “and I no longer have their locations. I told them not to tel me anymore, to just check in at least once a day so I’d know they were alive.”


“Why don’t you want to know where they are?”


“With the little Hunter here, the less I know about them, the better.”