“I know what brings you here,” the keeper said as he moved around the place he used for spells and enchantments. Panahasi wasn’t sure how the man found anything he needed. The place was a mess.

  The dimly lit room held bookshelves everywhere with skulls and candles placed haphazardly on top of books that were either open, or in stacks, seeming ready to topple at any moment.

  There were various jars that held items ranging from strange green liquid to eyeballs floating in smoky gases. For as long as Panahasi had been coming here, the place hadn’t changed a bit.

  “You seek answers for things you already know,” the keeper said.

  Panahasi really hated when the damn man talked in riddles. “Sebastian Krule is back.”

  “And you want to know why.”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Panahasi knew better than to argue. No matter what he said, the keeper was not going to clarify himself. “That’s kind of the reason why I’m here.”

  The keeper stopped moving, fixing his gaze on Panahasi. There were only one or two creatures that Panahasi was leery of. Those two creatures would be Jaden and the keeper. Eyes that reminded Panahasi of graveyards bore into him. “Sebastian Krule, a demon with no soul, a man who killed his own mate and tried to sell his son has returned. Do you think there is any reason to his madness?”

  Not really.

  “You continually sell yourself short, Panahasi.” The keeper spread his arms wide. “The primal source created you, yet sometimes you act as if you were born from a womb.”

  Panahasi was getting a headache. If the keeper wasn’t such a great and powerful man, he wouldn’t bother to come down here. But the creature was gifted by the primal source to see what couldn’t be seen.

  Great, now he was starting to sound like the keeper. “Which means?”

  The keeper gave an exaggerated sigh. “Open your eyes, Panahasi. You have the ability to see beyond human eyes.”

  And he was ready to gouge his own eyes out.

  “Krule has returned to collect what he never wanted.”

  Okay, now Panahasi understood that. “Krule is here to try and take Kobe.”

  “No,” the keeper said as the candles in the room flared to life. “He is here to finish what he started so long ago.”

  Fucking riddles.

  * * * *

  Kobe threw his head back and laughed as Zion yanked at the new clothes he had just purchased for the demon. He had been tired of seeing Zion in his tattered fabrics. He was going to burn them as soon as he had the chance.

  “No laughing at me,” Zion warned. “They feel a little tight.”

  “Nonsense,” Kobe replied. “They fit you perfectly.” Especially the jeans. He loved the way the denim hugged Zion’s ass. He didn’t even know the demon had one because his old clothes had hung off of the man. He sure as hell appreciated the small swell of Zion’s backside as the demon turned back and forth, still tugging.

  “How about the shoes?”

  Zion glanced down at his feet. Kobe had bought the guy a pair of Converse. They looked good on the small demon. Red was definitely his color.

  “I like them. I’m not too sure about these pants, though.”

  Kobe was just amazed that Zion had agreed to letting him buy some clothes. He thought for sure he would have a fight on his hands. The more he got to know the demon, the more Kobe was figuring out that Zion was a very independent person. He liked to do things on his own.

  He also had a feeling that Zion equated gifts with sex. Kobe was determined to shatter that belief. So far he had kept his hands to himself. He planned on keeping it that way unless Zion showed interest.

  Although Kobe planned on making Zion his, he wasn’t rushing a goddamn thing. “Stop pulling on them, short stuff. They fit just fine.”

  Kobe had bought Zion the basic necessities in underclothes as well. The demon now owned a decent wardrobe. He had to agree to let Zion take over the laundry and cooking in order to pay Kobe back for the purchases.

  That was a deal he was looking forward to. Kobe was sick of takeout food. He couldn’t wait for a home-cooked meal. He just hoped like hell the little demon could cook.

  “Will that be all gentlemen?” the salesman asked.

  Kobe glanced down at Zion. “Unless you need something else?”

  Zion rolled his eyes. “We’re done.”

  Admittedly, Kobe had never had so much fun spending his money. He usually guarded his wallet closely, especially when those twinks down at Diablo’s tried to hit him up. But seeing the smile on Zion’s face, Kobe would have bought the entire clothing store.

  The guy was just too damn easy to shop for.

  “We can go grab some dinner after this,” Kobe said as he paid for his purchases.

  Zion grabbed the bags and then turned toward Kobe. “Do you ever stop thinking about eating?”

  “Hell no.” He led them from the clothing store, scanning the area the entire time they walked to the Pancake House. He was beginning to wonder if maybe he hadn’t imagined his father being in Serenity City. It had been three weeks, and Kobe hadn’t spotted him since.

  But why in the hell would he imagine his father here? Sure, he had imagined the man dead many times—and prayed his intense wishing came true—but he shouldn’t be conjuring the evil bastard up in the city where he lived.

  “I am not looking forward to getting back into the apartment building,” Zion said as he entered the restaurant. “Maybe I should get my order to go. That way I can eat after I’m done being sick.”

  That wasn’t a bad idea. After the first time Zion had gotten sick, Kobe had taken them through two more times with the same results. He couldn’t figure a way around it because there was no way Zion was going to stay trapped in the apartment.

  “Then we’ll order our food to go.”

  “You need to go grocery shopping. Your cupboards are bare. How am I supposed to cook?”

  Just as he turned to answer Zion, Kobe spotted his father from the corner of his eye, and the man was heading his way.

  Chapter Seven

  Kobe grabbed Zion and quickly headed toward the back of the restaurant. The familiar gut-wrenching fear had returned, making it almost impossible to breathe. But his instincts were telling him that there was something more going on. Krule had shown up here for a reason and it wasn’t to rehash old times as father and son. Well, if it was, then Kobe was in bigger trouble than he first thought.

  He couldn’t ever remember a time in his life when his father was sane. There were never any tender moments or encouraging words. It was downright fucking amazing that Kobe had turned out the way he did. From the way his father had raised him, Kobe should have been just as heartless and cruel.

  He wasn’t sure why Krule was here, but Kobe had Zion with him, and he wasn’t taking any chances. It truly gutted him to run, but what choice did he have? If he stayed and fought, there was a high probability that Zion could be hurt and Kobe couldn’t live with that.

  “Your father?” Zion asked as Kobe headed toward the proprietor’s office. He had to find a shadow so he could get back to the Warriors’ building. His number-one priority was to keep Zion safe. The guy couldn’t weigh any more than one hundred and thirty pounds. Krule would snap Zion in half.

  And then Kobe would have to kill his father. As much as he dreamed of doing just that, he wasn’t going to risk Zion.

  “Unfortunately.” Kobe was getting sick of running. Since becoming a Warrior, his self-esteem and pride of who he was had flourished. He felt those hard-earned achievements diminishing now. The images of what that man had done to him slammed into Kobe’s mind as he shut the office door, thankful that there were no windows. It was as if he were a kid all over again and running from the cruel hands of his father.

  Kobe slapped the switch on the wall, the office instantly bathed in darkness. He moved forward until he and Zion were in his apartment. Reaching up to run his hand over his head, Kobe’s eyes widened when he saw it shaking. He quickly dropped his hand back down before Zion could see how much his father truly affected him.

  Kobe wondered what the man would do when he caught up to him. It was no longer a question of if, but when. Krule was always persistent. That was a great quality to have, but not when a person was a psychopath.

  Zion dropped the bags on the floor, covering his mouth as he hurried to the bathroom where Kobe heard the little demon vomiting.

  Shit. Kobe moved into the bathroom, wetting a towel before wiping it across Zion’s forehead. He used his other hand to keep the guy’s hair out of his face. “We’re going to have to figure something out, short stuff. I can’t keep having you throw up every time we come home.”

  He pushed all thoughts of his father aside as he flushed the toilet and pulled Zion from the floor. Instead of taking the demon to his room, Kobe decided to sit on the floor, just in case Zion wasn’t finished yet.

  “I hate feeling like this,” Zion said as he wrapped his arms around his stomach, looking paler than normal. “Why can’t you guys just build a dang door on the front of the apartment building?”

  “The Demon Warriors have many enemies, Zion. If we built a door, all hell would break loose in this building. The only way to get in is through a shadow. And since only Demon Warriors can use shadows…” Kobe shrugged.

  Kobe inwardly shuddered at the image of having a front door. He could just see the line around the block of creatures trying to get in to kill them. He wasn’t exaggerating. The Demon Warriors had more enemies than Kobe could count. “How do you feel?”

  Zion lay in Kobe’s lap and it hadn’t gone unnoticed the amount of trust the little demon was giving him. Zion normally tried to put a lot of distance between them and Kobe respected those boundaries. But he couldn’t stay away when Zion was sick.

  “The queasiness is easing.”

  Taking a chance, Kobe ran his hand over Zion’s hair, letting the soft strands run through his fingers. The man’s hair felt like satin as it glided over his skin. “Just relax and let it pass.”

  Kobe wanted Zion to feel better, but he was also enjoying this small, intimate moment. Zion didn’t seem to be in a rush to move either. He lay there quietly allowing Kobe to caress his hair.

  All too soon life intruded when he heard Panahasi calling his name from the living room. He had no idea what the man wanted but hated that his little bubble of peacefulness had burst.

  “I’m feeling better,” Zion said as he pulled out of Kobe’s arms. He immediately felt the coolness move in, the warmth of the little demon gone from Kobe’s body. Frustrated, Kobe stood and headed into the living room as Zion went into his bedroom.

  “We need to talk,” Panahasi said. He gave no apology for interrupting, but then again, the leader hadn’t known that Kobe was finally getting into Zion’s space.

  Taking a seat, Kobe gestured for Panahasi to do the same. The demon leader sat down, resting his arms on his thighs. “I went to the keeper about your father.”

  This got Kobe’s attention. He had met the creepy man many times over the past centuries when he had taken people down there to be locked away. Kobe always felt as if he were standing in front of someone who could either kill him in the blink of an eye, or put some kind of damn curse on him.

  “And?”

  When Panahasi exhaled, Kobe knew this wasn’t going to be good. It was bad enough his father was here. There was a part of him that was hoping the man was in the city for other reasons than to come after his son.

  “He’s here to kill you.”

  Somehow Kobe had already known that. He really did. But the small boy who still lived inside of him cried out at the injustice of having such a heartless father. He may be a demon, but Kobe wanted to be loved and accepted by his parent, just like any other being.

  To hear his worst fears spoken out loud cut him more deeply than Kobe cared to examine. It shouldn’t surprise him after the way his father had raised him, but it still hurt like a bitch. “Thanks for telling me.”

  “I’ve had the other Warriors step up their patrol. Your father was banished from here eons ago and that banishment hasn’t lifted. When he’s caught, he’ll be taken to the keeper.”

  The leader had said when, not if. Was he that confident Sebastian Krule would be captured? Kobe wasn’t. His father hadn’t survived this long by being foolish and careless. He was the most underhanded and conniving man Kobe had ever met.

  “It would probably be best if you stayed in your apartment until he’s captured.”

  “No,” Kobe said without hesitation. “No fucking way. I have lived in fear of him my entire life. I won’t keep running from him. I won’t allow him to make me a prisoner in my own home.”

  There was no shame in saying this in front of Panahasi. The demon leader already knew what Kobe had been through. He was the only being alive—aside from Kobe’s father—who knew everything that had happened to him.

  He may have run the past two times, but that was because he was caught off guard the first time and both times he had Zion with him. Even though Kobe feared the man, he was through running.

  “I didn’t think you would.” Panahasi sat back, his stature reminding Kobe just how great and powerful the leader truly was. The guy wasn’t as muscular as the other demon warriors, but if anyone took that as a sign of weakness, they were sorely mistaken. Panahasi was the most powerful man he knew.

  But fear was with Kobe. That trumped what he felt about Panahasi. Somehow he knew he was going to have to deal with his father before this was all over.

  Because he knew two things were going to happen. Either he was going to kill the feared Sebastian Krule, or Kobe was going to die. He was voting to stay alive.

  Standing, Panahasi headed toward the door. “I just wanted to let you know why he was here.”

  Kobe sat there long after Panahasi had left, staring out the window. But it wasn’t the city he adored that Kobe saw. It was a bleak past that had him in its grips, making him remember things he wished he could forget.

  Cruel hands, broken bones, and blood…so much blood. Kobe ran his hand over his chest, feeling the ache of when he was a small boy, hiding in fear of his father. There wasn’t one pleasant memory he could draw on.

  Stop living in the past and man up. You aren’t that terrified little snot-nosed kid anymore.

  If only he could forget.

  Kobe’s eyes strayed from the window when he saw Zion slowly move into the living room, watching him with careful eyes. The inner demons that had their claws imbedded in Kobe’s memories began to slowly fade.

  He noticed that when Zion was near, the torment he constantly lived with wasn’t there. It was as if Zion somehow chased those long-ago ghosts away just by being near him.

  The small demon placed his right hand on his left upper arm, his eyes flickering over toward the window. Kobe just sat there and watched, wondering if something was on the guy’s mind.

  “I heard what he said,” he spoke gently, so quiet it was less than a whisper.

  As much as Zion seemed to settle the turmoil inside Kobe, he wasn’t in the right frame of mind for a conversation. His emotions, fears, and regrets were still like a raw wound. The knowledge that his father wanted him dead shouldn’t be affecting him like this, but it was.

  Zion moved a bit closer, his slow steps telling Kobe that he was waiting to be rebuffed or yelled at. He knew Zion had some kind of fucked-up past, but Kobe was clueless to what the man had actually gone through.

  He wanted to smile once again, to laugh with Zion. Kobe hated feeling like he was still trapped in the past with no hope.

  “Do you want some time alone?” Zion asked as he stopped moving toward Kobe.

  “Being alone is something I’m used to,” he answered honestly. “But you can stay.”

  Sinking to the floor, Zion curled his legs close to his chest. He was about five feet away from Kobe, but it felt like a million miles.

  “I haven’t had a chance yet to thank you for rescuing me.” Zion rested his chin on his knees. “Why did you risk your life for a street rat?”

  Kobe curled his fingers in, his anger mounting. “Don’t call yourself that, Zion. You’re worth more than my father and Raphael combined.”

  He wasn’t going to allow the man to blow down on himself. Just because Zion was born into poverty didn’t mean he wasn’t worthy. Monetary status had nothing to do with self-worth. Even though Zion had tried to hand Kobe over to the gang of demons in Remtin, he understood what the little demon was faced with.

  No one wanted to suffer and tossing a stranger to the lions to save a person’s own ass was sometimes necessary. But he hadn’t handed Kobe over. He had warned him, had sacrificed himself in order for the Demon Warriors to get out of Remtin safely.

  None of them had had their powers. They were sitting ducks. Brute strength would not have helped them against the horde of demons who had been bearing down on them.

  Zion lifted his head, gazing at Kobe in bafflement. “But why did you come back?”

  “Because I wasn’t going to let you sacrifice yourself.” It was the blunt truth. He had known then as he knew now that there was something different about Zion. The little demon didn’t belong in Remtin. Unlike almost all the residents, Zion had a good heart.

  Zion looked as if he really couldn’t understand why Kobe had come back for him. That look alone told Kobe that Zion had never experienced compassion or what it meant to stick one’s neck out for another person.

  “I was told as a child that no good deed goes unpunished,” Kobe said.

  Zion’s dark brows knitted together. “So you think that your father coming after you is punishment for rescuing me?”

  The little demon’s self-worth seemed even lower than Kobe had thought. “No, I was referring to everything I’ve accomplished since Panahasi brought me here for my training. It seems no matter how much good I do, my past won’t let me forget where I came from.”