no clue where she was or if Psycho Stanley was close. The room only had one door, and that door was currently closed. She doubted she’d be alone for long. Someone would come—the same someone who’d brought her here.
As the feeling of being confined once more seized her insides, awful memories of that day long ago insidiously snuck back up on Devon. Again, she shoved them away. This wasn’t the time to reminisce. It was time to get her shit together and think. Plan. She needed to get out of this shithole.
She rocked and squirmed, but the chair didn’t even so much as creak. Sturdy fucker. Standing as much as the chair would allow, she slammed it back down. She did it again. And again. And again. And again. And—
The sound of hinges squeaking came from somewhere in the cabin.
Devon stiffened, her heart pounding as heavy footsteps came her way, scraping at the creaky floorboards. Moments later, the door was pushed open. A tall, lean male with shoulder-length black hair filled the doorway. This had to be Psycho Stanley.
He was still. Watchful. And as she found herself the focus of those soulless gray eyes, Devon swallowed hard. She didn’t let her dread show, though. No. Good at hiding her emotions, she kept her face blank as she resumed slamming the chair to the floor over and over, holding his gaze the entire time. If he expected her to shake with fear and plead for mercy, he was out of his mind.
The wooden planks groaned beneath his feet as he walked further into the room. “The chair isn’t going to break,” he said in a voice so devoid of emotion that it gave her the chills. An incantor, she sensed—and a very powerful one. “Far stronger people than you have tried it,” he added.
So, what, he made a habit of kidnapping people and bringing them here to be tortured with those implements on the table? Twisted.
“Bet you’re wondering why you’re a guest of my fine accommodations.”
She stilled, wanting an explanation.
“It’s nothing personal on my end—I’m just a bounty hunter. Someone will be here to collect you very soon. Someone who’ll deliver you to a person who must want you very badly, because they paid me a huge chunk of money to acquire you.” He grabbed the old stool from the corner and slid onto it. “But then, this isn’t a job anyone would do without the promise of a hefty reward, is it, considering you’re a good friend and employee of Harper Thorne?”
Yeah, no one in their right mind would want to upset Harper. The co-Prime of a large demon lair that spanned most of Vegas and even some of California was powerful in her own right. Her mate, Knox, was rumored to be the most powerful demon in all existence, and he really hated it whenever anyone upset Harper.
Devon’s own lair was small and mostly made up of imps. And since imps lived for pissing people off, her Prime—who was also Harper’s grandmother—had a whole host of enemies. It wouldn’t surprise Devon if someone was planning to hold her hostage in order to manipulate Jolene. That would be a dumb move. There was no way to manipulate Jolene Wallis.
“There’d be no sense in screaming for help,” the incantor went on. “This plot of land goes on for miles and miles. There’s no one around who’d hear you. For now, little hellcat, your ass is mine.”
It was almost cute that he truly believed that. But why warn him that he was wrong? It would be better to allow him to think that he was on top of the situation.
He cast a quick glance at his collection of knives. “It’s a real shame that I can’t use them on you. My client paid me extra to ensure you were delivered in one piece. They wouldn’t grant me so much as a pinkie finger, which is disappointing. Powdered hellcat bone sells for good money on the black market. I can personally attest to the fact that it does indeed power spells.”
Well, she’d already known that. Her deceased godmother was an incantor, and she’d told Devon plenty about magick.
Stretching his legs out in front of him, he cocked his head. “You’re a cool one, sitting there calmly, looking me right in the eye … as if you’re not tied to a chair and completely at my mercy.”
At his mercy? Oh, good Lord, he was just adorable.