Read Online Prince of Air and Darkness by Jenna Black - Free Book Online

kill.
    In the end, his father had finally escaped the torture by bleeding to death. Afterward, Hunter had his first taste of the whip himself, as a reminder that he, too, was subject to the Queen’s discipline.
    Hunter tilted the bottle to his mouth and practically choked himself with a huge gulp. Unlike his father, Hunter was immortal, and if the Queen ever decided to execute him, his body could endure much more terrible tortures.
    Ruthlessly, he pulled himself back together. It didn’t matter how much he liked Kiera, and it didn’t matter how bad it made him feel to lie to her. He would do what he had to do because the alternative was too terrible to contemplate.
    The doorbell rang, and every nerve in Hunter’s body came alive. This would undoubtedly be Bane, bringing the device that would stop the elevator. Hunter’s heart pounded. He took deep, slow breaths, trying to calm himself. Bane rang again, and Hunter went to the door, aware that his movements had taken on a predatory glide. The knife slipped out of its sheath in his sleeve. The dire need to avenge his father was a palpable force, urging him to fling the door open and drive his knife into the goblin’s throat.
    Luckily, some hint of rationality remained, despite the alcohol, and Hunter re-sheathed the knife before he opened the door. He wasn’t able to school his expression, however, and Bane, with his unerring recognition of pain, grinned.
    Hunter swallowed hard. “I’m warning you, Bane,” he said in a low growl, “goad me now, and I’ll kill you. The knowledge that I’ll suffer for it won’t give you any satisfaction if you’re dead.”
    The goblin’s grin widened. “Thinking about dear old Dad, eh?”
    Hunter’s whole body was shaking with the effort to control himself. “I’m not kidding!”
    Bane moved with surprising quickness, planting a hand in the center of Hunter’s chest and giving him a mighty shove. Unprepared, Hunter couldn’t keep his balance. He fell hard and scrambled to his feet in time to see Bane slip into the apartment and close the door behind him.
    Somehow, the knife seemed to have slipped out of its sheath again, and Hunter brandished it. Bane just shook his head.
    “Now is not the time, Boyo,” the goblin said. “Someday, you’n me’ll have it out. But not yet.”
    Hunter was sweating as he battled himself. He’d never felt anything like the hot rage that coursed through his blood right now. Always before, his anger had been a slow, controlled burn.
    Bane came slowly closer, holding his hands out to his sides, palms open. “You probably shouldn’t drink when you know you’re going to be around me,” he said, his voice maddeningly calm. “Not good for your self-control. Now put the knife away.”
    Hunter curled his lip away from his teeth, wishing briefly he had goblin fangs to add to the menace of the expression. The knife was the only thing keeping Bane from striking, and Hunter sure as hell wasn’t giving up his only advantage.
    “Remember yesterday?” Bane asked. “You said I wasn’t an idiot. Well, you’re right, I’m not. You’re drunk and out of control. I’m not going to goad you or hurt you when there’s a good chance you’ll kill me for it. So put the knife away—you don’t need it.”
    The damned goblin sounded . . . reasonable . Hunter drew in a deep breath, trying to dispel some of the coiled tension. His nerves were still vibrating with the need for action, but he forced himself to withdraw the knife.
    “Good boy,” Bane said, but he said it lightly enough not to trigger Hunter’s rage. He reached into his bedraggled, filthy coat and pulled out something about the size of a ballpoint pen. “Just press the trigger here,” he said, pointing to a button on the pen-like device, “and the elevator will come to a stop. It’ll kill the lights, too. Make sure you’re between floors when you trigger it, or they’ll be able to pry the doors open.”
    Hunter took the device