Blood of the Demon by Rosalie Lario

genealogy.”
    “Still?” A tide of rage surged within him. He rose and stalked toward Leviathos, taking perverse pleasure in the way he winced and inched backward. “The search has taken too long as it is.”
    “We are getting closer, my Lord,” Leviathos stammered. “The scholar has been working round the clock, but this world is full of billions of humans. It isn’t an easy task.”
    “Then tell him to work harder,” Mammon snarled, poking his finger into Leviathos’s chest. “In fact, I suggest you aid in the search yourself. If we fail to uncover the heir, it will be on your head.”
    Leviathos nodded and turned to leave the room.
    Mammon waited until he was almost to the door before asking, “How goes the search for the Book ?”
    Leviathos paused, and then turned. A flicker of fear crossed his face. “We have an army of men searching every inch of the Valley. It cannot be much longer now before it is found.”
    He had better hope so. If the Council discovered the book before he did...
    Life on the run held no appeal for him, but he faced a lifetime of it if he failed in this mission. That wasn’t about to happen. He would die first.
    “You know what I would do to you if you ever tried to double-cross me, don’t you?” he asked in a silky voice.
    Leviathos flinched. “I would never do that, Lord.”
    Mammon chuckled. He believed him. His minion might be stupid, but he wasn’t suicidal.
    Turning, he motioned to the woman in his bed. He didn’t know her name. He didn’t care. She was simply an object to slake his lust. Given that she’d been unconscious the better part of his session with her, she was likely a drug addict. That, or Leviathos had slipped her something before bringing her to him.
    “Take her out of here,” he said. “But keep her handy. I may have use for her again.”
    Leviathos walked to the woman and hoisted her into his arms. Her head rolled to the side at an unnatural angle, and he examined her closely. “The woman is dead, my Lord.”
    “Dead? Pity. She was a tolerably good fuck.” After a moment’s thought, Mammon gave a careless shrug. “Hold on to her, anyway. She’ll keep for a few more hours.”
    §
    Much as he’d done just a few hours before, Keegan rested his forehead on the door leading into Brynn’s room. He’d barely slept last night, his mind consumed with thoughts of her. And if she’d had any idea of the sorts of dreams he’d had about her, she would have blushed clear into next week. He was pretty sure more than a few of the things he’d dreamt about were illegal in some states.
    Clearing his throat, he unlocked the door and pushed it open. Brynn was already up, her bed made. She sat on it, running a silver brush through her hair. Damned if she didn’t turn bright red when she saw him.
    “Good morning.” Keegan fidgeted, fighting off the uncomfortable feeling she knew what he’d dreamt about. That was impossible.
    Brynn averted her gaze, and she set the hairbrush down beside her. “Wish I could say the same.”
    “What’s wrong?” The question came out far more clipped than he’d intended it to.
    “What’s wrong?” She let out a bitter laugh and met his eyes with a haunted look. “I’m a prisoner here, that’s what’s wrong.”
    They were back to this? “I thought we already covered that it’s for your own good—”
    “Yeah, you’ve told me before. You’re not holding me prisoner—you’re protecting me.” A flash of temper sparked in her eyes. “Well, whatever. All I know is you won’t let me leave. How am I supposed to feel safe and secure in a situation like this?”
    “I’m trying to protect you,” he answered gruffly. “Not make you feel safe.”
    “How can you expect me to calmly sit here when you haven’t given me any evidence of what you claim? All I have is your word.”
    She had every right to be angry. He would be, too. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her go. “My word will have to be enough for