by Michele Hauf
And she wanted to help him. To determine if he’d been tapped. For her own purposes, of course. Which likely had something to do with the group she worked for.
Her moans tempted him back to the kiss. To the soft curves pushing up from the corset and snugging against his chest. He could dip his head and lash out his tongue across a nipple, and yet…This sweet, beautiful woman wanted him—for all the wrong reasons.
Jack set Mersey down.
“Jack?” Breathy and startled, the tone of her voice made him regret his indecision.
“What are we doing?” he asked. “You don’t know me.”
“We—we were going to have sex!”
“Precisely.” He paced to the wall and then spun on her. “But for what reason? Give me one good reason.”
“I…” She trailed two fingers down the loosened corset ties. When had they become untied? Her breasts were the perfect handful, and the corset pushed them up there like treats to be savored. “I thought we agreed to this, Jack?”
He paced. “This is not a business arrangement. People don’t agree to shag—it should just happen. Christ, you’re beautiful, and sexy and you smell like an orchard, and I want to bury myself inside you and forget the world.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Does it?” Yes, it did. Yet no matter how much he talked the talk he couldn’t force himself to relax and go with it. “Look at you. You’re ready to have sex with a virtual stranger merely for business purposes.”
“You need this as much as I do.”
“And why is it that you need it? I can’t believe I’m even arguing this. Oh, hell, don’t pout like that, Mersey.” He pulled her back into his embrace. Silken hair slid over his nose and he bit at it, taking the sweet-smelling strands across his lips.
Her fingers skimmed his nipple and the sensation rocketed to his groin. And there, she accidentally touched his scar. Fire burst through his chest. A deep, wanting flame that made him toss back his head and release a needy moan.
“Oh, Mersey.” He studied the depths of her green eyes. Would he break her if he continued to touch her?
You didn’t protect Monica. What makes you think you can protect this one?
A crash sounded from down the hallway, obliterating the heavy beats of Jack’s heart. The loo?
“What was that?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” He pressed her against the wall. “Promise me you’ll stay here?”
“But—” A quick kiss silenced her.
Jack took off around the corner, retrieving the .45 from the cubby as he stalked purposefully down the hallway.
Giggles echoed out from the loo. Pressing his shoulder to the doorjamb, he listened. It had been empty earlier, which could only mean—
He kicked in the door and aimed. A skinny blond woman perched on the toilet. A shrill mewl pierced his eardrums as the thing sighted in his weapon. Not human; that mewl was demonic.
Jack curled his finger around the trigger.
“No!”
The gun fired into the floor, taking out two ceramic tiles near the base of the toilet. The demon squeaked and pressed itself to the wall, compressing its body grotesquely to fit between the shower and the window.
“I told you to stay in the living room.” Mersey had slapped down Jack’s arms. He quickly re-aimed at the trembling OE. “Stand down, Bane!”
“I don’t think so.” She slithered beneath his arms and popped her head up between the barrel of his gun and the now giggling demon. “It’s not going to hurt anyone. It’s a lust demon.”
“A what? Get out of here. You’re standing in the path of a bullet, I’ll have you know!”
“I wouldn’t be if you’d put that nasty thing down!”
Violet bubbles floated up from behind Mersey. Bubbles? Jack lowered the pistol and turned in the doorway to lean against the frame. He searched the ceiling for—God knew what. When he looked back down, the target was acting like something out of a Saturdaymorning kiddie show, yet looking like a Saturday-night peep show.
“She’s cute, don’t you think?” Mersey asked.
The demon slinked onto the floor and stretched against the wall, shaking out her hair and fluttering her lashes like some kind of sex kitten. It was a skinny human-shaped thing in purple lamé and with curls of white-blond hair. Ultra-long lashes dusted its brow with each nervous blink.
Jack watched from the corner of his eye. This was not bloody right. Demons were not cute. Bet its tongue was long and forked.
“What did you call it? A lust demon?”
“Yes. Lust demons are attracted to well, lust, and can increase desire.”
Things started to click and fall into order. “So that’s the reason you’ve been all over me.”
“No, that’s—” Mersey flicked a glance over her shoulder at him. “You arse.”
Wasn’t the first time a female had named him the sort. Yet this time it tweaked at Jack’s heart. So to avoid the weirdness of the moment, he pushed away the tendril of emotion and again took aim. “Let me blast it.”
“No, Jack. I’ll send it away.”
“Are you—”
Mersey said a few Latin words…
“—nuts?” Jack finished.
…and the thing dissolved from the toilet in a shimmer of violet.
“How’d you do that?” he said.
She turned, hands at her corseted waist. Kohl-lined eyes narrowed defiantly. Goth witch personified, and she’d just used some kind of chant, so the whole look fit her to a T.
“Simple deportation spell, hotshot. It doesn’t send them back to the dark realm, but merely relocates them.”
“So it can torment someone else with lustful thoughts?”
“You consider lustful thoughts torment? Jack, you’re more frigid than I am.”
Ouch. She had no idea how he struggled with right and wrong.
“Now. Explain to me how you’ve got a demon in your loo?”
“It wasn’t there when I checked earlier.” He strode down the hallway, determined to hide his rising anger from her.
“You…checked? That’s what you were doing? Demon check?”
He should have shoved Mersey out of the way, blasted the thing, and then drawn her into a victory kiss.
Right now? He needed her to leave so he could shuffle into order the remnants of his pride. Alone.
Jack settled onto the couch and set the gun on the cushion next to him.
“Which means…” She stepped before him, hands gesturing in mad admonishment. “You expected to find a demon in your flat.”
“That’s not the point!”
“What is?”
“The point is, earlier, the only reason you were kissing me was because that thing made it so.”
“You were kissing me back, Jack.”
“Exactly!”
“Don’t change the subject,” Mersey snapped. “The only way a demon can appear in a mortal abode is if their familiar calls them there, or if a ritual is chanted. I didn’t hear any ritual, did you?”
“Before or after you did your witchy chant in my loo?”
“Ah!”
“I know what you’re implying.” He leaned forward and tapped the glass coffee table for emphasis. “I. Am. Not. A. Familiar. I know a bit, little girl, and one thing I do know is that familiars bridge the demons here only with great pain. I didn’t feel a thing just now.”
“Because there’s a leak. An unclosed passage that you obviously left open!”
“I didn’t open anything! Christ, I wouldn’t know how!”
Mersey breathed in through her nose and tapped her pointy boots on the hardwood floor. Jack followed the slim silhouette of those ribboned boots up the long length of her legs, glided over the leather and got lost somewhere in the corset laces that stretched loosely over her pleasetouch-me-again bosom. Christ, he still wanted her. No denying his lust hadn’t decreased one iota. Had that bloody purple thing returned?
“F
ine.” He stood. “If you must know, I’ve had…more than one demon visit me lately.”
To her credit she didn’t lash out verbally at him.
“Don’t know how to keep them out. They just…show up.”
Exhaling heavily, she nodded, and then offered, “You need to ward your home. Where did you study demon hunting? Didn’t they teach you anything?”
“You tell me about your base, I’ll tell you where I learned.”
She slammed her arms across her chest. Nope, no matter how pissed she tried to look, he still wanted to cover those pouty red lips with kisses.
“I’ve heard of warding.” He never thought he’d need it himself. Where to find a wizard to perform the required task?
“There’s no other way to discover the truth?” he asked. “About being a familiar?”
“Far as I know. We’ve got to have sex. You still in the mood?”
He wiped a palm down his face and shook his head. “This is the least romantic date I’ve ever had.”
“You think I enjoy it when a good make-out session is spoiled by a giggling lust demon?”
Much as he hated himself for doing it, he couldn’t continue. “We can’t do this! You don’t even know me, Mersey. Hell, I could be your greatest enemy.”
She chuckled. “Don’t be silly. I’d never make it with a member of P-Cell
—”
Sentence abruptly halted, Mersey grasped her throat. Her entire face changed. “Oh, my God. I didn’t even consider…You hunt demons. You carry a nasty gun. You’re big. You’re tough. Why didn’t I—? You are, aren’t you? P-Cell. I was kidding before, but you really are…a freakin’
death merchant!”
“Mersey, I—”
“Oh, my goddess, all this time. It makes so much sense! That big, nasty gun. Your utter lack of respect for the para nation. Your quickness to violence.”
“Mersey, now don’t get so upset.”
“I can’t believe I didn’t suspect you right away. But I’ve never met a PCell agent before. I’ve always been warned…Oh! You’ve been trying to follow me to my base. I thought it was fun and flirty, like you couldn’t get enough of me. What an idiot I’ve been. You’re trying to infiltrate the Cadre for P-Cell, aren’t you?”
Jack sucked in a breath. She’d just revealed exactly what he needed. The Cadre existed. And she was a part of it. Bingo. He sensed Mersey’s deep disappointment in him. His shoulders drooped and he nodded. “Yes, P-Cell. I’m following a direct order.”
“Which means you have no interest in me romantically—”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.” She flinched as he reached for her. “You betrayed me, Jack.”
“Oh, look who’s throwing daggers. You’re the one who wants to have sex for reasons beyond emotion. If you did learn I was a dangerous OE, what would you do? Capture me in one of those fancy little crystals?”
“You deserve it, Jack Harris, for lying to me.” She stomped toward the door. “You call them OEs?”
“Otherworldly entities. I didn’t lie to you, Mersey. You never asked the right questions. You assumed I was a hunter. I am. I hunt demons.”
“For a twisted, patriarchal, maniacal—”
“Don’t forget fanatical.”
“—fanatically militant group that wouldn’t know kindness from madness. You’re pitiful, Jack Harris.”
She’d called it right there. He bent forward, catching his palms on his knees. A breath to stop him from spewing out reactionary replies to her accusations was needed.
She grabbed the doorknob, and sighting his weapon, shook her fists and stomped the floor. “How many have you harmed for the greater good? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
“The greater good? You mean us mortals? Mersey, you can’t even compare the two.”
She opened the door. “What makes you believe mortals are the superior race?” And with that she stormed out.
Jack slammed his fist against the door frame as she marched down the stairs. He didn’t go after her. She was in a marvelous rage and would not be calmed. Maybe it was better this way. He couldn’t have had sex with her without guilt. And he had enough guilt on his plate, thank you very bloody much.
“Sorry,” he muttered and pressed his forehead to the wall. “Didn’t mean to hurt another female. Seems to be my MO lately.”
Was this what he had become good at? Hurting women unintentionally? What makes you believe mortals are the superior race? No, she wasn’t a mortal. But that wasn’t the bad part. This thing he and Mersey had going between the two of them was wrong. Very wrong. The sex and attraction should not be twisted in with their true goals.
From now on Jack had to stick to the plan.
He must convince Mersey to show him to Cadre headquarters. And if Beryth followed him there?
Brilliant. He couldn’t wait to get the demon in firing range.
Chapter 14
T he infiltration was moving too slowly. He had hoped to land this mortal realm and ransack the Cadre immediately. Too much time had passed. Weeks, perhaps? He was not a good judge of mortal time, but it felt far too long.
He’d once had access to the Cadre—had actually worked for them for a short stint. Now there were supernatural barriers keeping him back. To be expected. Their kind were unthinking, cruel and not to be suffered lightly.
This mortal love, it dug so deep and it never left. She was not alive now, but he would never forget. Never forgive.
Do no harm? Even after his capture and false accusation, he’d been assured that the Cadre were benevolent and would see him returned to his own realm before any sort of physical punishment was inflicted upon him. Liars. To be sucked into one of those insufferable crystals—ah!
They had no idea!
And now, the entire order of demonologists and torturers and trackers would suffer.
An access vessel had been procured. A mortal he had tapped and now remained connected to for the man’s dread was vibrant and ever present. He would lead him into the Cadre. Soon.
He should send a reminder to Jack Harris.
It hurt Jack’s heart to recall Mersey storming away from his flat, angry because he was something she had obviously been trained not to trust. If it came down to serving P-Cell or winning Mersey’s trust, Jack knew he would not easily choose P-Cell’s side.
But was he ready to sacrifice for a woman he’d known only a few days? Either way, an apology was in order.
This time Mersey wasn’t aware of him following her. Jack had searched the MI5 database and located her address. He was in the Bloomsbury neighborhood close to London University. Made sense that Mersey would live close to the university if she had gone to school there. He’d cruised the roadways for less than twenty minutes when he spied Mersey walking the pavement. Stopping five buildings up from his parking spot, she punched in a code to an apartment building and entered.
Would she let him up? Probably not. She’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in befriending anyone from P-Cell. But if he was lucky, he could catch the door when a resident entered or exited. Allowing her a few minutes to get inside, Jack then slipped across the street, taking in the peripherals as he did so. The apartment building sat in the middle of a block, a dark alley to its left. Residential, upperincome housing. Houses stacked too close for more than a sliver of yard or a thin old oak tree. A safe, benign neighborhood. Good. Now he wouldn’t worry about Mersey living in a crimeridden hovel. Because he did. The woman should be living with a man—someone who could protect her from the big bads.
He buzzed the Bane button and she answered. “Mersey, it’s me Jack, don’t hang—”
She hung up. He buzzed again. No answer. So he buzzed again. And again.
Finally, she replied. “Did you follow me?”
“It’s what I do. Had some luck with it this time. So ah, can I come up? This is important.”
“P-Cell business?”
“No, it’s per
sonal.” Jack stepped back and peered down the pavement. Moonlight glimmered on the nearby freshly sprinkled micro-lawns.
“Please, Mersey. I…need to apologize.”
He could feel her apprehension through the speaker box. A sigh, a twist of her mouth, as she wondered exactly what she’d got herself into.
“Fine. I’ll buzz you—”
A fiery pain ripped into Jack’s shoulder. His feet left the pavement. He didn’t hear Mersey’s last words. Instead, his body swung upside down, his head a pendulum over the cement. Strong talons gripped his ankles. Clawing for something, anything to get a grip on, Jack’s fingers slid across the rough concrete as the creature that had hold of him dragged him into the dark alleyway.
It had been five minutes since she’d buzzed the entry door. Was this Jack’s idea of a joke? Make a play for her sympathy and then take off? Mersey opened her front door and surveyed the hallway. Listening, she didn’t hear anyone stomping up the three flights of stairs required to reach her floor.
Reaching back inside, she buzzed again, but didn’t hear the lower door open.
“What’s his game?”
That he’d followed her did not sit well. And yet, she figured if he’d gone to the trouble of following her, then something must really be bothering him. He wanted to apologize? She would listen.
So where was he?
A tingle at the base of her spine wouldn’t allow Mersey to stand there. Something was wrong. She charged out the door and headed down to the lobby.
It was a murk. Demon henchman, to be exact. Jack had blasted a few of them in his short stint at P-Cell. They usually flanked their demon master, being much bigger, musclier, gristlier and downright uglier. They were an easy kill if a weapon were handy and he could get a brain shot.
Flung bodily through the air, Jack’s shoulders landed against a brick wall. Limbs splayed, he felt the impact against the back of his skull. Copper coiled in his mouth. He’d bit his tongue. He fell forward and landed on his knees. Cartilage crunched. Next to take the brunt? His face, as nose met concrete.
