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Maybe he wasn’t as close to finding Sienna as he’d thought. First time he’d neared her, his demon had begun repelling others. This slave was far from repelled. But he wouldn’t change course, Paris thought. He couldn’t. If not here, he had no idea where to go.

“Do you know where Arca is?” he asked, ignoring the question asked of him.

A pink tongue emerged, tracing over already moistened lips. “Yes.”

Relief flooded him. “Tell me. Please,” he added as an afterthought.

Those questing hands slid lower…lower still… “For you, anything.”

He waited, forcing himself to remain still. When no other response was forthcoming, he said, “Tell me.”

“Yes, yes, of course, but first I must…have to…please…” Every word caused the slave’s voice to dip lower, huskier, absolute yearning in the undertones.

Lost, Paris thought. The slave was already lost to his body’s needs. Paris would get no answers until that need was assuaged. He leaned against the wall and stared up at the domed ceiling.

“Drop to your knees,” he commanded, pulling Sienna’s delicate face, dark hair and adorably freckled skin to the forefront of his mind.

WILLIAM PACED THE CONFINES of his prison cell. After the blonde bitch had dropped her bombshell about Kane, he had erupted, shouting and fighting for freedom. She’d soon realized there would be no calming him down and had had his gurney wheeled here.

About an hour ago, he’d regained enough of his strength to break out of the metal restraints. Not so with the cage. Four walls, all bars, and he couldn’t bend or manipulate a single one.

The prison had been built for immortals.

He had to get out of here. Had to get to Kane. Had to stop the warrior from reaching hell. The horsemen. The danger…

“So. You’ve calmed down.”

The blonde. Fury rising inside him, William turned on his heel, following the sound of her voice. And there she was. Ponytail, wire rims, delicate features, lab coat.

“Are you ready to chat now?” she asked.

Don’t erupt again. Much as he currently wanted to rip her throat out, he needed her.

He was at a disadvantage, though. Patches of his skin were still charred, his pants—the only article of clothing currently remaining on his body—were bloodstained and ripped, and his hair was sticking out in spikes.

He was still a babe, though. Surely.

He pasted a seductive smile on his face. “Absolutely I’m ready. What’s your name, darling?”

She arched a brow two shades darker than her hair. “I thought you didn’t care about my name.”

Great. She was one of those. Stubborn and determined not to let a man soften her. Otherwise she would have melted already. And yes, he usually worked that quickly. “That was the pain talking, I promise.”

“Okay. I’ll pretend that I believe you. My name is Skye.”

“I’ll call you Dr. Love Button.”

“And I’ll have you castrated.” There was no heat in her tone.

“Kinky. So you work for Galen, do you?” Gods, William hated the bastard. Not for the sake of the Lords, though that didn’t help the keeper of Hope’s cause, but because William simply couldn’t stand people who were deceitful about their evil. Reminded him too much of his brother. And they didn’t get more deceitful than Galen, who masqueraded as an angel so he could manipulate a bunch of feeble-minded humans into doing his dark bidding.

Skye, if that was her real name, laughed. “Kinda sorta, though mostly no.”

Of all the nonanswers she could have given, that topped the list. “Mind explaining that a little better, pet?”

“Not really, but I’ll give it a shot.” She shook her head and stuffed her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “I’m not a Hunter. Or a doctor, for that matter. I never finished med school.”

“Then why did you bomb me, nearly kill me, help heal me and what? Lock me away as if you despise me. Oh, yeah. And I can’t forget that you also carted my demon-possessed friend into hell.” Something humans wouldn’t have known how to do—or how to navigate through if by some miracle they did manage to reach it. Which meant a god—or a goddess—had to be involved. And the only divine pain in the ass currently helping mortals was Rhea, the heavenly queen. “Also, how do you know about Galen and Hunters if you’re not part of their brainwashed masses?”

A rosy flush colored her cheeks. “First, I didn’t bomb you. Hunters did, yes. And, okay, so my husband is a Hunter, and that’s why I’m so knowledgeable, but I’m working with him on that, trying to get him out. As for the other, I only locked you away because you were a danger to yourself and everyone around you.”

He placed a hand over his heart, as if she’d mortally wounded him. “As if I’d ever hurt you.”

“Whatever.”

What would it take to charm her? “Let’s backtrack just a bit. Hunters decided to take me out, your husband among them, and you thought you’d try to save little ole me, even though you don’t yet have your medical degree and even though saving me might piss off your man? I’m touched, truly.”

She fiddled with something plastic in her pocket. “They brought you here, asked me to help.”