The Darkest Surrender Read Online Free PDF Page B

face, oxygen instantly turning to lightning in her lungs. She was mere inches from the doorway, yet her spasming muscles prevented her from completing her escape.
    She could have jerked the clamps from her back. She could have twisted, pitched one of the many daggersstrapped to her and ended her pain. Ended the human. But this was her hometown, and she didn’t like to kill the locals. Or rather, she didn’t like to kill more than one a day and she’d already hit her limit.
    A lie, but she’d go with it.
    Plus, why kill the guard when she hadn’t truly given the chase her all, knowing deep down that he could provide what she’d secretly craved: a reason to call Strider.
    After all, someone would have to bail her out of jail.

CHAPTER TWO
    S TRIDER WAITED IN THE LOBBY of the Anchorage Police Department, his friend Paris at his side. They’d already posted Kaia’s bail and were now waiting for her to be released into their custody. Come on, Red. Hurry. He was currently on the receiving end of several once-overs from the male cops—fun fact, he’d had less invasive body cavity searches—as well as a few very thorough eye-fuckings from the females. Paris was, too.
    They were armed, yeah. Strider wouldn’t visit a church in heaven without a few blades stashed somewhere —especially now that he knew heaven was guarded by freaking giant-ass angels—much less stroll into a building filled to bursting with guns and humans who knew how to use them. But, so far, no one had commented. Not that they could see his arsenal, hidden beneath his jacket, T-shirt and jeans as it was.
    “Why did we have to be the ones to do this, again?” Paris asked. At six-foot-eight with an all-muscle frame, the keeper of Promiscuity was, to put it mildly, a big guy. Three inches taller than Strider, the bastard, but—and that was a huge but —not nearly as powerful.
    Considering how many times they’d thrown down, the comparison wasn’t merely an opinion but a solid fact.
    “I owed her a favor,” he said, careful not to reveal any emotion. Like the fact that he’d rather be locked in his enemy’s dungeon, torture on the day’s menu, than here.Like the fact that he didn’t want to see Kaia again. Ever. Like the fact that he didn’t want Paris to see Kaia again. For way longer than ever. “She called it in.”
    “What favor?”
    “None of your damn business.” He didn’t even like to think about it. And talk about it? Hell, no. Too embarrassing. Like being caught out in public with your pants down.
    Wait. Bad example. “Pants down” was a good look for him. A really good look.
    Ego check. He’d told himself he was going to stop patting himself on the back for all his wonderful qualities. After all, it wasn’t fair to the citizens of the world. They couldn’t help being inferior to him in every way.
    “Well, I don’t owe her anything.” Paris flicked him a glance, ocean-blue eyes glinting. Tension radiated from him. Tragically, uh, fortunately, that didn’t affect his handsomeness. He had a head of hair most women would kill to own, a mass of differing shades of brown, from the darkest of midnight to the sweetest of honey, and a face most women would kill just to glimpse.
    Kaia had probably fisted that hair. Had probably smothered that face with kisses.
    Strider’s jaw clenched. “You slept with her. Do you really need a reminder of that?”
    “No, no reminder. But when you think about it, that means she owes me. And now you owe me, too, summoning me the way you did, interrupting my quest to demand I help you.” Acid filled those words. Not because of Strider, but because of the “quest.”
    Sienna, the woman Paris desired above all others, was trapped in the heavens, a slave to the god king. Worse still, she was now possessed by the demon of Wrath. Paris hoped to find her, save her and punish everyone who had hurt her.
    Strider pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth, remaining silent. Paris had found his “one