Releasing the Hunter (Harlequin Nocturne) Page 2

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Well, you better explain it before I run you through.”

  “How about lowering the knife, and then I will explain.” He put his hands out to the side to show her that he wasn’t holding a weapon. He had a bunch strapped to his body, though, but he didn’t need to tell her that.

  Ice-blue eyes narrowing, she lowered the knife and took a step back. He noticed she made no move to sheath her blade. He wasn’t surprised. She was infamous for being cautious to the point of paranoia. Probably how she’d stayed alive so long.

  “Speak.”

  He lowered his hands. “Before I tell you, I want you to know that I am not your enemy and, in fact, we are after the same demon.”

  She cocked one eyebrow but remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

  “I have demon blood in my veins.”

  She flinched, and her blade came up.

  But he was prepared this time.

  He blocked her arm and quicker than she could see he grabbed her other arm, swung her around and pressed her tight to his body, effectively pinning both arms to her sides.

  She struggled against him, cursing up a storm. There were even a few choice words he’d rarely heard before, especially from female lips.

  “Stop,” he grunted. “I told you, I am not your enemy.”

  “Then why are you restraining me?” She tried to dig her boot heel into his shin, but he moved his leg in time.

  “Because you’re trying to hurt me.”

  That seemed to give her pause and she ceased struggling.

  With her still in his arms, he became acutely aware of her tantalizing scent and the way her hard body fit against his. Heat from her form spilled over onto him and sent a ripple of pleasure over him.

  Ivy Strom was enticing to say the least, distracting at most. Just from their brief struggle, he could tell how strong she was, how agile and fierce. He didn’t have to see under her clothes to know that she’d be well muscled and toned. The delectable swell of her behind rubbed him in all the right places at definitely the wrong time.

  Despite his demon blood, he was also a man, and he couldn’t help his reaction to her.

  She must’ve noticed because she shook her head and growled, “Release me now. Before I cut it off.”

  Ronan released her, pushing her forward and taking a distancing step away. “I apologize. It’s just you’re, ah, attractive.”

  She smirked. “And you’re obviously still in high school.”

  He gave her a small smile. “Evidently.”

  Her lips twitched at that, but she fought it before they could form a smile. He did notice the playful glint in her piercing eyes, though. Interesting. Something he might have to consider later.

  “So you’re a cambion,” she said.

  He shrugged. “Yeah. My lot in life.”

  “I’ve heard of them existing. But it’s pretty rare. Don’t most die when going through the transformation?”

  “Yup. I didn’t. Lucky me.”

  She studied him for a moment, and then shook her head in anger. “Yeah, well, thanks to you, I lost my mark.” She sheathed her blade. “I’m going to have a hell of a time finding him again.”

  “I think I can help with that.”

  She eyed him warily. “How?”

  “I know where he lives.”

  “Where?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not going to be that easy. I want to team up with you.”

  “Forget it.” She turned to go, but he grabbed her arm. She glared down at his hand.

  “We’re both after the same thing. Makes sense to team up.”

  “Maybe to you, but not to me.” She lifted her gaze to his. It was intense and fierce and he sensed that she was grinding her teeth to stop from ripping off his arm and beating him with it. “Remove your hand.”

  He did. “Fine. Good luck trying to track him down again.”

  Ronan straightened his leather jacket, then turned to go back down the alley. He walked maybe ten feet before he could sense her watching him. His spine actually tingled. It was weird. No woman had given him a reaction like that.

  He made it to the mouth of the lane and was about to turn left to go back to his car when her voice reached him.

  “Wait.”

  * * *

  Ivy grimaced at the thought of working with this man, but she was desperate enough to consider it. She’d labored for this tip for months to lose it in a matter of seconds. Who knew how long it would be before she received another reliable one? In the meantime, the demon would kill another woman or two. She didn’t know if she could handle that, recognizing she could’ve done something about it.

  She didn’t know a lot about cambions. They were rare because it was extremely unusual, if not impossible, to survive a demon attack. It was like being infected with a virus. A fast-acting virus that radically changed your physiology. Thankfully, it could only be passed through blood transfer. According to myth, cambions possessed many of the same powers that demons did. Superstrength, superhealing, super resilience to death. But supposedly it left their humanity intact.

  Looking at this man now, she couldn’t be sure. It could totally be a trap. He could be working for the demons. It was too bad she didn’t have much of a choice.

  She walked down the alley to him. “If we work together, it’s all my way or the highway.”

  “Funny considering you have nothing to bargain with, but sure, fine, we’ll play it your way.”

  He had a certain swagger to him, this dark-haired man. It definitely could’ve been the demon blood infecting him, but she had to admit she kind of liked it. Respected was maybe a better word.

  “If I had nothing to bargain with, you wouldn’t be so eager to want to team up with me.”

  He grinned, and she imagined his dark green eyes glinted mischievously. “You got me there.”

  She eyed him up and down, taking in his solidly built frame and lanky legs. Just by the way he stood, with his arms to his sides, she knew he was well equipped. There was no mistaking the bulge under his jacket, probably a 9mm, or the slight hump under his T-shirt, a bowing knife most likely. He probably had blades strapped to both ankles, as well. At least he came prepared. Maybe it wouldn’t be a total waste teaming up with him.

  She suspected he was well equipped in the physical department, as well. He made one big target. She could use him as a body shield if worse came to worst.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Ronan Ames.”

  “Okay, Ronan, we’ll try this partnership out. But if I suspect that you are screwing with me or you don’t hold up your end of the bargain, I will bleed out that demon blood of yours.”

  “Deal.” He offered his hand.

  She took it gingerly, gave a firm shake then released it as quick as she could. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to shake his hand, it was that touching his skin sent a rush of something pleasant over her flesh. The little hairs on her arms and back of neck were standing at attention. And she wasn’t happy about it one bit.

  Chapter 3

  An hour later, after they had consolidated their individual vehicles—Ronan had stolen his anyway—and amassed their weapons and equipment, Ivy was sitting in the driver’s seat of her rusted-out old heavy pickup with a cambion beside her, parked in front of a small bungalow in a part of town usually reserved for the elderly. It definitely was not her idea of an ideal situation. But it was the best option she had right now if she wanted to put down the demon that had been terrorizing the city. If she wanted answers she had to play the game.

  “Are you sure this is the place?”

  Ronan nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Where is he, then?”

  Even in the
dark she could tell that he was staring at her. She could feel the contempt sizzle in the air. “Don’t know. I’m not his secretary. I don’t have his itinerary loaded on my phone.”

  “You don’t have to be a smart-ass.”

  “Yeah, I think I do when you ask me dumb-ass questions.”

  She was about to argue, but knew he had her there. It had been a dumb-ass question. She was just anxious. And anxiety made her on edge, and being on edge made her cranky. It was a vicious cycle.

  She was still pissed at him for making her lose the demon in the first place. If he hadn’t been so big, and so solid, that he set off her amulet into overdrive, she could’ve continued the chase down the alley and out onto the street. The demon hadn’t had that much of a head start. Sure, he was quick, but so was she.

  Ronan smirked. “You would’ve lost him anyway. He’s way too fast even for you.”

  She glared at him, hoping he could see it even in the dim of the trunk. “You’re a mind reader?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t have to be with you. Your cold stare of death says it all. You’re used to blaming others for screw ups.”

  “You did screw me up,” she snarled. “I would’ve had him if I hadn’t run into you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

  “What were you doing in that alley anyway?”

  He broke their glaring match and looked out the side window. “None of your business.”

  “Look, bad blood, I don’t like the way—”

  He slapped a hand over her mouth. “Shut up for a second.”

  She was about to rip his hand away when she sensed the same thing he had.

  The demon was nearby. She could feel it in the air. Like a horrific dream, like all the happiness in the world had been sucked out of the air. It was a cold clammy feeling on her skin. She shivered in response.

  She nodded, and Ronan took his hand away. He pointed to his eyes, then to the house.

  Ivy peered through the windshield to the small bungalow. No lights had come on, but she thought she saw movement at one of the darkened windows.

  She leaned toward Ronan and whispered, “Is he in the house?”

  He nodded without taking his gaze off the house.

  “You take the back. I’ll go in the front.” She didn’t wait for his reply before she quietly opened the door and slid out of the truck. She carefully closed the door but didn’t click it shut. Demons possessed superior hearing.

  She came around the front just as Ronan got out of the vehicle. They met at the front bumper.

  “Don’t kill him. I need to talk to him first,” she told him.

  He just nodded.

  Ivy took out her lock-picking kit and headed toward the front door while Ronan crossed the lawn, passed through the side gate and headed around to the back of the house. She stepped up onto the stoop, opened the screen door and tried the knob. It was surprisingly unlocked.

  Either the demon had been careless or this was a trap. Ivy went with trap. In her mind, it was always a trap. Nothing was this easy. There was always a catch or two.

  She unsheathed one of her silver blades from her back harness, then as quietly as she could, she turned the knob and opened the door. Thankfully the hinges didn’t squeak, but she knew it didn’t matter. The demon could probably hear her breathing.

  It was completely dark inside. She waited a moment just past the threshold for her eyes to adjust. She’d spent plenty of time in darkness so she had better-than-average sight compared to most people. When she could make out the shapes of furniture and other items scattered around the main living room, Ivy stepped forward.

  There were no noises in the house. Except for the ticking of a clock nearby and the hum of the furnace, she couldn’t discern anything that indicated anyone was at home. But she sensed it. A creepy sensation of foreboding crawled over her skin and she had to suppress the urge to shiver. Someone was here.

  As she moved across the room, she had to remind herself that Ronan could also be in the house. Maybe that was who she was sensing. But she had to admit she didn’t get a creepy vibe from him. It was another kind of vibe that she didn’t want to consider right now.

  She moved into the kitchen, and that’s when she caught sight of Ronan. He was coming out from the back hall. He lifted his hand in greeting to her. Or to stop her from slicing off a piece of him. She loosened her grip around the hilt of her blade as he came along her side.

  “Anything?” he whispered.

  She shook her head. “Something’s here, though.”

  “Yeah, I get that, too.” He lifted his chin and sniffed the air. “I can smell decomp.”

  She peered at him curiously.

  “There’s at least one dead body in this house. One day dead, maybe.”

  Ivy swung around and searched the shadows of the kitchen. They were either dealing with Sallos’s latest kill or his latest creation. She hoped it was the former because if it was the latter, they could be in for a world of hurt.

  Revenants were really hard to kill.

  They were the undead given life by a demon’s black-magic spell. Unlike the zombie lore floating around, these creatures weren’t shambling, unintelligent bodies. They possessed speed, tenacity and an irritating lust to kill.

  The only way to end them was to cut off their heads and stuff valerian root into their necks. Ivy had a big knife, so that was taken care of, but she didn’t have any valerian on her.

  “I need to go to the truck.”

  Even in the dark, she could see Ronan frown. “Are you joking? We’re in the middle of something here.”

  “Watch my back.” She moved out of the kitchen before he could protest further. But she could feel him behind her doing as she asked.

  She was halfway across the living room when she felt a stir in the stagnant air to her left. She turned that way just as the revenant sprang at her from beside the sofa. What she had erroneously mistaken for three lumpy throw pillows had been a reanimated corpse lying in wait.

  It latched onto her left arm with its clawlike fingers and carried her backwards. With its substantial weight behind it—Sallos had killed and resurrected a Goliath—it took them both to the ground. But before it could rip a chunk out of her shoulder with its jagged teeth, Ronan was there kicking it in the head.

  The force of Ronan’s kick sent it reeling off her and onto its back. Ivy scrambled to her feet but not before the revenant grabbed onto her right leg, trying to dig its fingers into her flesh.

  Thank God for the thickness of her jeans, she thought. Never before had she wanted to plant a kiss on Levi Strauss more than she wanted to now.

  As she shook her leg to get it off, Ronan shot it in the back. It instantly released her. The blast of his gun echoed around the room.

  “That’s not going to kill it,” she shouted over the ringing in her ears.

  “I know, but it got it off you, didn’t it?”

  She didn’t grace him with a response, but turned and prepared for the revenant’s next attack. They never stayed down long. It was back up on its feet in a flash and rushing forward.

  Ivy unsheathed a second knife and, using defensive holds, she crisscrossed her arms and sliced deep into the revenant’s gut. It grunted, stumbled backward, and then looked down as its insides spilled onto the rug. She had to bite down on her lip to stop from retching.

  “That’ll keep it busy for a few minutes,” Ronan offered as he studied the revenant’s guts on the ground.

  “I need to get the valerian from the truck.”

  “Go. I’ve got this covered.”

  Ivy sidestepped around the confused revenant and rushed out the front door. She ran down the lawn and to the truck. Her bag of herbs and roots was behind the cab seat. She unlocked t
he truck and rummaged around for her bag. She found it, opened it and grabbed a small plastic bag of the herb. Stuffing it into her pocket, she ran back to the house.

  When she walked into the house, the revenant was in a few pieces on the living room rug. One severed arm still moved.

  She shook her head. “A little overkill, don’t you think?”

  Ronan shrugged. “Best to make sure.”

  She stomped over to the headless torso of the revenant. She opened the plastic bag, took out a pinch of valerian root and shoved it down into the open neck wound. The squishy sensation on her fingers made her head swim and her stomach flop over unpleasantly. She wiped the residual blood and gore onto her pants.

  Within a minute, all the squirming pieces of the revenant lay still.

  “We should burn the body,” Ivy said as she prodded the torso with her boot.

  Ronan nodded. “I know a good place to do that.”

  “Yeah, I bet you do,” she muttered under her breath. But she knew he heard her and she didn’t care.

  “I just saved your ass, lady, so I suggest you be nicer.”

  She cocked one eyebrow. “Please. I didn’t need your help. I would’ve taken care of it by myself.”

  “Before or after it had eaten your leg for a midnight snack?”

  She smirked. “Whatever. Let’s just find a garbage bag, get the pieces together and get this done.” She looked around the room. “Obviously, Sallos knew we were coming. He might have other traps for us.”

  Ronan disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a hefty orange garbage bag. “Found one under the sink.” He knelt down and started to fill the bag.

  “We should hurry. That shot you took probably woke the neighborhood. Cops will probably be here soon.”

  She picked up the arm and shoved it into the plastic bag.

  “You can’t just say thanks, can you?” He stuffed another piece inside. “It’s obvious gratitude is beyond your intellectual scope.” When the bag was full, Ronan tied it off.

  “Can we just move it along?” Ivy didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t want to feel gratefulness or anything for this cambion. The less she felt for him, the better.