“He said you’re free to go. They’re getting the paperwork and your prescriptions ready.”
“Tell him to save the prescriptions. Do I have any clothes to leave with?”
“Yeah. A policeman brought this by.” He walked over to her bag by the darkened window. He opened the zipper and rummaged through it. “What do you want out of here?”
She lifted the blanket and examined her legs. They were in bad shape, covered in several swollen cuts and bruises.
“The sweat pants and a t-shirt.”
She noticed the mark across her chest when she touched it. It was tender from the damage of the seatbelt strap.
“Don’t bother with a bra.”
Jackson laid the t-shirt and sweatpants on the hospital bed. He looked her over as she struggled to her feet.
“You look bad, Awn, real bad.”
“Good thing I’m not entering a beauty contest. Close the blinds so I can change.”
Jackson did and then came to her side, helping her remain steady as she undid the tie on the back of her gown.
“How’s the Jeep?”
“It’s completely totaled. The police said they were amazed you came out alive.”
Jackson held up the gown in front of her as she slid on her sweatpants. Each bruise, cut and torn muscle alerted her to their presence as she eased a leg into the sweatpants.
“Thank goodness for full coverage and total car replacement. I’ll let the insurance handle it. Where are we? What hospital?”
“We’re in Atlanta. Your accident was just north of here.”
“Good, then we don’t have far to go home.”
“Nope, and once I get you home, a little TLC from your man Jacks and you’ll be feeling better in no time.”
She pulled the t-shirt over her stomach and smoothed what she assumed to be crazy hair. Jackson dropped the gown on the hospital bed and grabbed her duffel bag.
“Ready?”
She nodded. After a lengthy checkout and disapproving glares from the nurses for not taking the prescriptions, she got out of the odd-smelling hospital. She breathed in the fresh air outside, her bruised rib and chest reminding her they were there.
“Food.”
Jackson tossed her bag into the backseat and opened the door for her. “What did you have in mind?”
“A big juicy burger.”
Jackson smiled. “Coming right up.”
He hopped in and drove them to the nearest fast food place. She gorged on the burger as though she hadn’t eaten in days.
Jackson pointed to her tattoos across the table. “I noticed your tattoos. What’s that about? I thought they were only seen in certain lighting and situations?”
Anya eyed her visible, dark tattoos that she was quickly growing fond of.
“I’m not sure I can explain it. I’d like to show you if I can figure out how to work them.”
“Them?” Jackson asked between a handful of fries.
“Yeah, them. They’re wings.”
Jackson laughed. “What?”
“I’m serious. They came out during the car accident. I thought I died, maybe I did, I don’t know, but then I was being lifted in the air by wings and then the wings faded back into me, back into my skin.”
“Uh-huh. How hard did you hit your head?”
She took her last bite and gulped down her sweet tea. “I’m not messing with you. If I can figure out how to get them to come back out, I’ll show you.”
“You better, because right now, you sound like you’re on some kind of trip.”
“I didn’t take any drugs, remember? How is it you can believe I’m a demon hunter without any issues, but you can’t believe I had wings come out of me?”
Jackson ate the last of his fries. “I don’t know, it sounds crazier than demons lurking in the dark and a human that kills them.”
The conversation with Dillon flashed through her memory. “I’m not human,” she said sourly.
“What do you mean, you’re not human?”
“A shadow walker has been stalking me, trying to kill me, nearly did. I went to my handler to ask why a shadow walker was showing up at my house and stalking me. Emerson blew it off like it was no big deal. That was my second sign that something was up. I went to see Dillon hoping to get answers. Apparently someone expected that I would do just that and they killed him, blew up his house, tried to kill me too.
“Before they murdered him, he told me that the Arcane Society isn’t run by an organization dedicated to keeping the balance between good and evil, between humans and demons. It’s an organization developed by half-blood demons, ensuring they keep the upper hand against pureblood demons. Something has changed in leadership. They’ve gone from protecting humans and themselves to becoming the predators. Dillon said they’ve become corrupt with power and are trying to wipe out any possible threats.
“I don’t know exactly what is going on, but Dillon told me Leo has joined the cause and has been accepted into the board. He said Leo was the one who sent the shadow walker after me, because Leo sees me as a threat. Dillon explained that Leo and I are different. That I’m like my mother, who was a handuit demon, and Leo is more like my father, a vuall demon or a half-blood vuall demon. Dillon said I have abilities that Leo does not and that Leo knows it. Dillon wanted to show me what those abilities are, but he didn’t get a chance to.”
Tears stung her eyes. Jackson reached over the table, taking her hand and rubbing it.
“Why don’t you stay with me awhile, until you get things figured out? Maybe you should call Leo and talk to him. Find out what’s going on. I don’t know if I believe he would try to kill you.”
Anya withdrew her hand from his warm touch. “Absolutely not. I would endanger you if I stayed with you. The shadow walker is still after me. I have to kill him.”
“What about your dad and Leo? If they’re demons how come you never sensed them all these years?”
“A vuall demon has the ability to hide that they’re demons, as if they’re wearing a shield for skin. They are hard to discover because they rarely transform to their demon form. You can only detect them when they are in their natural form.”
“Convenient for them.”
“It is. It makes sense why a vuall demon and a handuit demon would mate. They create an impeccable hunter. A handuit demon can sense other demons and a vuall demon can be untraceable.”
“This ability Dillon was talking about, do you think it has anything to do with your tattoos, your wings?”
Anya nodded. “I think so. He wanted to show me. Maybe he was going to show me how to use them, to bring them out. I don’t even know what they do exactly.”
Jackson tilted his head. “To fly,” he responded, as if her question was blatantly stupid. “And if your wings really do work and you really can fly, do you know how badass that’s going to be?”
Anya tried to laugh and grimaced instead. “Don’t get too excited. I need to figure out how to get them to come out again and I have no idea how to.”
Dex’s fingers anxiously tapped on the keyboard. Greg stood and stretched from his seat.
“I’m gettin’ some grub. Want anything?”
“Yeah, bring me some nachos and a coke,” Al told him.
“I’m good,” Dex responded, still staring at the screen blankly.
“K, see ya in a while.” Greg walked out and Dex returned to his thoughts. Thoughts of Anya. She was heavy on his mind tonight. What for he couldn’t figure out. Al stood and stretched too.
“I’m headed to the pisser. Keep an eye on room 3A.”
Dex nodded absentmindedly. He flicked the keyboard and the activity in room 3A filled the corner of his screen. The activity in the room made his thoughts of Anya more difficult to ignore. He entered a few commands on the keyboard and then his screen went black. Video feed from a previous evening filled the screen. He and Anya came through the storage door. It closed behind them and he watched as she eagerly touched him and he undressed
her, taking her under him. He saw the desire and satisfaction fill her face. His cock swelled against his jeans. He wanted her still, even after knowing what she was. He caught a flicker of green fill her pale odd-colored eyes. He paused the feed, rewound and watched again. Yes, there it was, a flicker of demon green and then it was gone as if it never happened. His chest wound up like a yoyo ready to spring free. Then it coiled, tightening to the point he had to remind himself to breathe. In the shadows he saw movement. He rewound and replayed. As Anya dressed he saw it. A demon in the shadows, watching her—a shadow walker.
Al walked back in and Dex clicked the keyboard. The screen went black. He grabbed his jacket off his seat. “I’m heading out early. I have to go. You guys got it covered?”
Al studied his expression. His own grew worried. “Yeah, man, take care of business. See you tomorrow.”
Dex eased the window the remaining way up with both hands. It slid up the frame without a creak. He crept into her apartment, all lights on, yet she was sound asleep. The bright lights left him assuming she knew a shadow walker was after her. Why a shadow walker was stalking her had him worried more than it should. He approached her bed, got a glimpse into her dreams and grinned when he saw that the dream was of him. He eased closer to the bed and noticed the bruises and lacerations on her face, arms and legs. Concern filled him. He stared down at her soft skin and dark red hair. She looked like a broken, beautiful angel lying there. Had she not been an Arcane Hunter he would already be falling for her.
He eased into the bed next to her, pulling her body close against him. She stirred and murmured inaudible words. He pushed his ability onto her. She slipped back into a deep sleep, dreaming of them. He did in her dream what he wanted to do to her now. He made love to her, slow and passionate, placing kisses over her body, touching her in the most intimate places. She stirred beneath him, a moan escaping her lips. The scent of her desire rose, meeting his nostrils, giving him a gift of sweet serenity.
Chapter 12
Anya woke with a few less aches and pains. She’d had an incredible night’s sleep and incredible dreams too. She wasn’t even angry that she’d dreamt of Dex all night. The dreams were so real, so tender, so warm, she’d needed them. It even left her with a bit of heartache over their last encounter. She wished he didn’t hate her for what she was. Whatever she was. She didn’t even know anymore what she was.
She got up and showered, working the stiffness out of her body. She tried to do a pull-up on her pull-up bar over the bathroom door and that proved pointless and painful. She held her side as if her own touch would ease the pain as she walked into the kitchen for breakfast. She fumbled through a bowl of cereal and then sat miserable and alone at her kitchen bar counter.
She wasn’t sure what step to take next. Healing was first priority. She couldn’t do much of anything in her condition. She pushed her nearly empty bowl aside and traipsed to the chest in front of her bed. She worked the lid open and pulled a worn-out book from it. She could study up on her demonology though. She flipped through the book, finding the pages on handuit demons. Sure enough an illustration revealed a human-looking figure with dark brown almost black wings spread out behind them, but of course it had no details about how to get the wings to come out.
She sat there on the floor, book in lap, replaying the events of the night. She’d almost died, there was no denying that. She even thought she was dead at one point. Was it the near death experience that brought her wings out? Her chest seized as the thoughts hit her. What if the demons hadn’t started the explosion at all? What if Dillon had caused it, trying to create a near death experience? What if the demons showing up was coincidental? He wouldn’t have. It was an insane thought to even think.
She closed the book and buried it in the chest. There was another time the wings started to come out. At the hospital when the shadow walker lurked in the shadows. She’d gotten angry, a little scared, and then instinctively, as if to protect her like a shield, the wings had started to open. Were anger or fear, or both, a way to release the wings? Was her idea crazy? Was she crazy? Yes, probably.
Anya dressed and headed out the door. She had a few things to take care of before her grand and dangerous scheme.
She walked into the gym and a few eyes stared a little too long at her. Jackson came over and wrapped an arm around her.
“How you feeling?”
“Like I’m recovering from being hit by a semitruck.”
“Close enough to what actually happened. What are you doing here? You aren’t trying to work out are you?”
Anya shook her head. “I’m here to let John know what happened and to tell him I won’t be able to teach class for a couple days.”
Jackson nodded. “I saw him in his office this morning.”
Anya thanked him and headed in. John had been disappointed, but more importantly was glad she was okay. He told her a couple days was no big deal. He’d shuffle schedules and make it work.
She said her good-byes to Jackson and then headed to her insurance company. She filed her claim, paid her deductible, and signed paperwork. The police report had said accident, no foul play, so she was in the clear. A check would be in the mail for her in a few days. In the meantime she’d have to keep walking everywhere or calling taxis.
That she did. She got lunch and then wandered around the car dealership getting an idea of what they had available. She eyed another Jeep and felt a strange sensation crawl over her as she looked at it. Clearly the trauma of the accident had left a residual feeling toward Jeeps. Her only way to get over that would be to buy another one.
A tall, partially bald man with a friendly smile approached her. She let him know there’d be no purchase today, just shopping and seeing what vehicles were available.
After her obligations were taken care of, she nervously committed to her crazy plan. It had turned to evening and the skies were gray like fog. The streets were less crowded. Less chance of being seen. She took a back alley and then another. She used the emergency metal stairs and found herself at the roof of an older abandoned apartment building. It wasn’t even a good place to be. The riff raff who hung out around here didn’t make it the safest place.
Those thoughts evaporated as her nerves bunched in her gut. Was she really going to do this? Yes, she was and she’d even left notes in her phone in case something went wrong. Details that would be pertinent to policemen and morgue employees.
She glanced down and sucked in a breath. She wasn’t afraid of heights, but suddenly this drop seemed like miles to the ground. She squeezed her eyes closed, spread her arms out and let out a squeak of regret as she stepped off.
The wind whipped against her face. She thought the feeling of freefalling would be exciting, freeing, but it wasn't. Her heart beat so hard she could hear it in her ears. Her skin had become tight and restricting. Her fear enveloped her, sucking the breath right out of her. She dared to open her eyes and then immediately regretted it. The ground seemed so close, so terribly close. Had she just committed suicide? Bile filled her throat and mouth, but nothing came out. The wind clawed through her hair. Her body ached, from pain or fear she couldn’t be sure. As the ground neared she closed her eyes and started to curl her body protectively. Maybe she would die quickly on impact. Fear and anger filled her. How stupid she’d been.
The familiar burning sensation spread over her arms. The wings peeled back from her skin. Her body bounced and then slowed, as large, solid, dense wings spread out behind her. They seemed to have a spirit of their own. They glided in the breeze, easing her down carefully. Her feet hit ground and she instantly reached up trying to feel the wings. They slid back from her touch and careened back toward her body. They lay over her back and arms, fading into her skin and forming tattoos once more.
Anger surged through her. Why were they so quick to disappear? They didn’t even feel like they belonged to her or that she controlled them. They seemed to have a mind of their own and they were quite shy. Which irritated h
er immensely.
Anya started to climb the rusty, rickety stairwell, determined to do this again and again until she had control over them. She heard rhythmic footfalls, as if someone was running, and then a gunshot around the corner of the alley. She froze on the stairwell, fear tickling her gut. Two men rounded the corner and saw her. Both men glared at her with dangerous and deadly eyes. Both sporting guns in their hands.
Anya stared them down, awaiting their next move. Surely she looked like a pitiful young woman who could easily be snuffed out. They seemed to think so too. A gun raised and aimed right toward her. Her fear and anger raged. Her skin burned less, more of an uncomfortable tingling sensation this time, and then her tattoos raised from her skin, forming lifelike feathers, and spread out around her. They flapped once as if preening themselves in front of the newcomers.
The trigger was pulled and the bullet swam through the air like a torpedo. The large, dark wings wrapped around her, enclosing her in their embrace. The bullet slammed into her, knocking her backward, but there was only slight pain in her back from falling onto the rusty metal stairs. A ting of a bullet hitting ground sounded in her ears. She glanced down to see the wings release her. They were completely undamaged, still smooth and glossy, still solid and dense.
Both men stared at her in shock. She bit back a grin. The shooter lowered his gun and they took off down the alley as sounds of policemen yelled behind them. Her wings folded into her, enveloping her in their soft and solid embrace, before fading into her and becoming the dark tattoos over her skin. Three policemen rounded the corner. She immediately raised her hands in the air.
“They ran down the alley.” She nodded her head in their direction.
After an explanation of what she was doing there—a shortcut home was her lie—and a police report of what she saw, she was able to leave. She called a taxi to take her to Jackson’s.
Jackson opened the door to his apartment wide enough for Anya to enter. She barreled in, full of anticipation.
When Hunter Meets Seeker: (An Arcane Society Novel - Paranormal Demon Romance) Page 8
