“Is that a fact?” Rudger drawled.

“Yes.” Ivan gathered energy in case he needed to demolish the man, although that would just bring Rudger’s twin brother running, and that guy was psycho. “Turns out your mother was kicked off the Council of the Coven Nine . . . decades ago. In fact, I believe her ass was kicked in battle by one of the Dunnes.” Turned out Moira Dunne, cousin to the male enforcers, had taken out Grace Sadler in order to place her sister on the council. Witches always went for family.

Fire crackled down Rudger’s arms. “Believe me. That fact is only one of several that went into our decision.”

“Ah, but what’s your end game?” Ivan braced for a ball of fire, just in case. He really did want to know.

“None of your business.” Rudger shook his head. “Watch yourself, demon.”

Ivan clasped his hands at his back. “I’m thinking this would be a good time to renegotiate ownership of real property as well as intangible. I mean, if you want me to stop the e-mail headed to the Coven Nine right now.”

The fireplace came out of nowhere, hit his chest, and threw him into the wall. Pain radiated and burrowed deep. Sucking in air, he ducked his head and aimed devastating images and pain at Rudger’s frontal cortex. The impact jerked the witch’s head back. He hissed and tried to gather more fire in his palms.

Ivan narrowed his gaze and pinpointed raw agony to the center of Rudger’s brain with the finesse of any surgeon with a blade. The witch cried out, slapping both hands to his temples.

Almost casually keeping up the assault, Ivan reached into his drawer for a dagger. Ancient and jeweled with diamonds from his mines, the blade had been sharpened to a deadly glint. He crossed around the desk, his body shaking from the fight, and reached his enemy.

“M-my brother will kill you,” Rudger gasped out.

Ivan smiled. He was a two-century-old demon, with immeasurable power. How had the witches ever even thought they were on the same footing? Immature idiots. “Your brother is the least of my worries.” He had enforcers and a pissed-off demon on his ass, not to mention his angry people. They were a greedy bunch of bastards, and the fact that he’d lost billions of their money was setting rumblings through the group. “I’ll take care of him when he shows up.” Or he’d have his right-hand man, Vadim, take care of Phillipe. Vadim hadn’t killed anybody in at least a month, and that made him edgy.

With a graceful arc, Ivan plunged the knife into the witch’s throat and then twisted.

Fire burned up his arm.

He bit back a curse and finished slicing through the last bit of cartilage. Rudger’s head rolled off his body and under the desk.

The smell of blood and burned flesh filled the room. A truly grotesque scent. Ivan wiped the bloody knife on the headless corpse. “Millicent?” he called out.

His secretary, a mousy demon with dirty blond hair and oddly fat thighs, lumbered inside. “Yes, sir?”

“Clean this up.”

Daire crossed his arms over his chest, facing inside the cabin’s cozy bedroom and blocking the way out. He didn’t give one shit whether or not he looked intimidating. He was finished handling Cee Cee with kid gloves, and he was done trying to hold on to patience. He’d never had any, and trying to find some with her had only backfired. So the woman could just get used to the real him, cranky bastard or not. “Talk.”

She backed away until her thighs hit the bed.

After their jaunt in the forest, her eyes glowed with bright contentment, and a flush covered her fine cheekbones. All of her glorious hair cascaded down her back, drying slowly. Her hand trembled as she reached for the bed and sat, scooting back until her shoulders rested against the headboard. “You don’t want to know. Just trust me.”

He barked out a laugh. “Trust you? No dice. Try again.” While he kept his voice hard, he had to appreciate her gumption. Even now, she was trying to play him, which wasn’t easy and definitely took balls. “We’re not moving until you talk.”

She eyed his body, the door, and the rest of the room.

He grinned. “We can fight first, but I don’t play fair, baby.” His legs tensed with the anticipation of a good tackle.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve already kicked you in the head, and apparently there’s nothing in there. The kick didn’t knock one semblance of sense into you.”

Warmth rolled through his chest. Spunky and cute, wasn’t she? “I do have a hard head.” As did she. In fact, he hadn’t met anybody more stubborn than the little demon. But the woman had a heart, and he could get to it. Though she tried to hide her soft side, she wasn’t very good at it. “You’re hurting my feelings by not trusting me.”

Her eyelashes fluttered, and she studied him, her fingers picking at the bedspread. “I’m trying to protect you from having to make impossible choices, you big oaf.”

“How sweet,” he drawled. “How about you let the big, bad enforcer protect himself?” And her. Whether she liked it or not.

She shook her head. “Go away.”

“Nope.” He let loose his brogue. “Not garna happen. You have a choice here. Either start talking, or I’ll see if you’re ticklish.”

Her eyes widened, and she wrapped her arms around her legs. “You’re joking. The big, bad enforcer tickles for information?”

He slowly nodded, enjoying her discomfort. Yeah, he’d thought she was ticklish after sleeping with her in the tent. When his foot had rubbed the bottom of hers, she’d nearly jumped out of the sleeping bag. Was that only a couple of days ago? “I often tickle for data, and by the panic in your eyes, I’m thinking I’d get what I want.”

She swallowed and didn’t move.

“All right.” He prowled toward her, keeping his movements slow. Where to start? Feet or ribs? He liked her ribs. Then he put one knee on the bed.

“Wait.” She held out a hand. “Fine.”

He bit back another grin. She must be incredibly ticklish, and boy, was he going to explore that later. “Well?”

She drew in a deep breath and then exhaled, dark regret filling her eyes. “Fine, but I warned you. One of the banks I’m planning to rob holds evidence against Simone Brightston, the woman you love as a sister. She’s involved with Bychkov and Rudger, and she owns two of the mines currently supplying planekite to the manufacturer of Apollo.”

Chapter 17

Fire crackled and spread warmth across the cabin’s main room. Felicity sat at the long table and moved from the maps to the laptop, quickly accessing her online storage server. “I’m sorry, but I’ve looked at the documents I could find, and I’ve traced the original incorporation documents to the bank in the Caymans.”

Daire shook his head, no warmth in his gaze. “Impossible.”

She shivered, not realizing until right that second how heated he’d been with her. “It’s true. Simone initially signed on to a limited liability corporation with Trevan Demidov, another witch, and when he died, his son took over. It’s called Triad Financing, and it owns the land that contains the mines owned by Ivan.”

Daire frowned. “Ivan doesn’t own the land?”

“No. He, or rather, his people control the mineral rights and several easements to bring material in and out. He actually does not own the property.” The arrangement was fairly normal, even in the Pacific Northwest with silver mines.

Daire relaxed. “Trevan was Simone’s lover, and he used her to go after our family. He died decades ago, and his son died very recently.”

“I figured.” There hadn’t been any activity in Yuri Demidov’s accounts for the last week, and considering his connection to the planekite mines, she’d figured the enforcers had taken him down. “Did you kill him?”

“No. Kellach did.” Daire leaned back. “So any connection Simone had with Demidov ended years ago, and she must’ve forgotten about the corporation.”