“I told you about my vision, I gave you the chance to call him to me so I could destroy him. You should have listened to me, you should have helped me, but you didn’t.” His tone said that she only had herself to blame for what he was about to do.

“Everyone told me not to listen to you; that you’re so close to rogue you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Oh, I know what I’m doing, and I know what I’m saying. More importantly, I know what needs to be done.”

“Explain it to me.”

“You’re going to pretend you believe me?” he scoffed. “We both know you don’t.” Crow picked up a small bottle of clear liquid and shook it. “This should help with the pain.”

She shook her head and tried once more to call to Knox. Another explosion of pain rattled her skull. Her pulse was now racing a mile a minute. “Don’t do this.”

“It has to be done.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“A hysterectomy won’t stop the child being born – he’ll just have it with another she-demon. But he won’t do that as long as you’re alive. This surgery will buy me some time.”

“It’s not surgery, it’s butchery!”

He settled his surgical mask back into place. “You had the chance to help me stop that child from being born. You didn’t take it. You’ve left me no choice.”

“There’s always a choice. But you haven’t been making your own choices lately. You’re being manipulated!”

He ignored that. “You should have chosen a safer mate. You can’t get in bed with the Devil and not pay the price.”

She frowned. “You think he’s Lucifer?”

“I was speaking metaphorically,” he replied, impatient. “Now be quiet while I prepare everything.”

She kept quiet, but she didn’t keep still. An imp for all intents and purposes, no one could keep her anywhere she didn’t want to be. But after a hard, lengthy struggle, she had to accept that this twisted son of a bitch was managing to do just that. All the while he rambled to himself, flushed, jerky, and agitated.

Harper was no stranger to life or death situations, but she’d never experienced this sense of utter powerlessness before. She was used to dueling. Would face a challenge head-on and, if need be, she’d fight until someone was dead. But this wasn’t a duel. She couldn’t fight. She was trapped. Powerless. Vulnerable. And she hated it. Hated it even more than the metallic taste of fear coating her tongue.

Why the fuck hadn’t she checked that Tanner was in the driver’s seat before she got in the damn car? Granted, she wouldn’t have been able to see him through the blackened windows, but she could have checked before sliding inside the —

Harper stilled as Crow came to her. “You don’t want to do this,” she told him. Again, he ignored the compulsion with ease.

“I can’t knock you out for the op – I don’t have the drugs or equipment for that,” he said, sounding a little apologetic. He held up a syringe. “But this will help with the pain. Not a lot, but a little. You might feel a bit drowsy. That’s normal.”

She cringed away from him, but it did her no good while she was all tied up.

He sighed at her. “I hope you’re not going to wriggle around while I’m operating. If you do, the incision will be jagged and you’ll have an ugly scar.”

He thought she cared about a fucking scar? The second he came close, she lifted her upper body as much as she could and rammed her head into his nose. There was a nauseating crack as blood poured from his nose and soaked the surgical mask.

He roared and dropped the syringe. Cupping his nose with both hands, he glared at her with such malice that it made her shiver. Spitting insults that she couldn’t quite understand while his nose was broken, he quickly removed the mask and used some padding to absorb the blood. He snapped his nose back into place and snarled, “You bitch!”

He slapped her hard across the face. Pain exploded beneath her cheekbone and a ringing sound filled her ears. Her demon lunged to the surface and hissed at him. “I will kill you. That is a promise.”

Crow just sneered as he picked up a scalpel from the tray and moved to her abdomen.

Harper retook control of her body, wrestling her demon into submission. A wave of pure dread washed over her as he rolled her boy shorts down a little. “Don’t fucking do this, Crow!”

But he did. The scalpel sliced through her skin like butter, and she bit her bottom lip. No way would she give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out in pain. She needed to stop him, needed to do something, but there wasn’t a goddamn —

They both froze at the sound of footsteps outside. Hope raced through her so fast, her breath caught in her throat. Crow cursed, and Harper screamed for all she was worth. The door swung open, and there was Delia. Her eyes widened as they danced from Crow to Harper.

His hand clenched around the scalpel. “Delia…”

“Lawrence, what are you doing?” Her voice shook.

No, Harper thought with a shake of her head. Delia couldn’t possibly be involved. No way. No motherfucking way.

“I’m doing what needs to be done,” Crow told Delia.

Harper struggled against the rope. “Delia, untie me!”

But she didn’t. She took slow steps toward him. “You think Harper’s pregnant?”

“Not yet.”