Claimed by the Demon Hunter

by Harley James

  “Aye, I will soon relieve your hunger, mo chroi.”

  “Hurry.”

  The mood lights on the balcony sparked violently as they went out, leaving only gauzy, filtered light through the curtains of her room. Lachlan stiffened and pushed away from her with a vicious curse. A sudden roar split the air and shook the boards underfoot. She panted in the darkness, legs sliding together, hiking up her dress. In the next instant a strangled sound came from Lachlan. Thumps and thunks pounded down the wooden steps before gravel gave way to boots, crushing and scattering the small rocks forcefully. Her heart thrummed painfully in her throat. Get inside. She yanked down her dress and pushed up from the sectional, as weak as an invalid.

  Disturbing sounds of close combat started in earnest. Punching, hissing, grunting, choking. My God, it sounded like animals tearing into one another. Her adrenaline ramped higher, dampening some of the sexual haze she’d fallen under. Her fingers curled around the railing to forestall the dizziness. “Nate?!”

  Get inside now!

  Her head ached with the pained directive. It was like he was somehow talking in her head. She must have fallen at some point this evening and didn’t remember knocking it against something. Her stomach pitched. She staggered to the bedroom door and twisted the cold metal handle. Locked! She blinked away the watery pressure rising in her eyes, fighting through the residual cobwebs in her mind and the continued hunger of her body. Why hadn’t she checked to make sure that the damn door wasn’t self-locking before she’d come out?

  “Frickin’ gloryhole!” She jiggled the handle again, then pounded on the glass with the flat of her hand, keeping an ear open to the gory sounds on the path.

  Would anyone hear if she screamed? Nate was supposedly in the kitchen, but she didn’t know where that was. He was most likely the one locked in mortal warfare with Lachlan, the lust magician, though, so it probably didn’t matter where the hell the kitchen was.

  She should try to help because, holy crap, Lachlan needed to be locked up. She was sure the cops hadn’t heard about this new rape drug that could be delivered with a mere handshake. One of her friends on the St. Paul Narcotics Unit kept her in the know about what was circulating on the streets so she could watch for it at the club, but he’d never said anything about this particular drug—

  Every muscle in her body froze.

  All had gone quiet on the path.

  She still couldn’t see anything but shadows, yet her hearing expanded to compensate for her lack of vision. The flap of a bird’s wings as it launched from a tree. Water gently lapping at the dock. A branch snapping—

  Someone ascending the stairs.

  Jessie’s fingers curled into shaking fists. Need a weapon. Her gaze bounced around the deck, using the edges of shadows and larger concentrations of darkness to orient herself. There. A terracotta pot. Heavy enough to knock somebody out. If it didn’t, the crash would break it into nice, deadly pieces.

  She lunged.

  A large hand clamped over her mouth, and she went down.

  Chapter 10

  Nate swallowed a groan of pain as the heel of Jessie’s stiletto connected with his shin. When she deliberately collapsed, he leaned back to counterbalance her attempt to throw him off kilter. By God, that was a brilliant move. Too bad it had been tried too often by his adversaries to actually work. “Shh.”

  Her head jerked fiercely to the side, allowing her teeth to sink into the fleshy portion of his palm.

  “Blast!” His body curved intimately against her, his stubbled chin tangling her hair as she continued to struggle. He’d never felt the chill of fear like he had when she’d screamed for him telepathically. How had she done that? “Jessie. Stop.”

  She froze when his lips brushed her cheek. Et vade in gehennae ignis. Begone fires of Hell. He whispered counter chants to subvert the lust bewitchment Lachlan had woven round her. It would take some time for her to come all the way out of it, but he wouldn’t let her out of his sight in the meantime.

  He slowly uncurled his fingers from her mouth. “He’s gone. No one’s going to hurt you, I promise.”

  “N-Nate?” Jessie turned in his arms and went up on her toes to peer into his face. The scent of lingering desire clung to her. He shivered, nearly faint with relief that she’d retained her sanity—not to mention her honor—after a face to face encounter with an ancient incubus like Lachlan. Rumor had it that the sex demon was one of the original fallen angels.

  Whether it was true or not, he was so old he could maintain his physical form in the mortal world. Something most other fallen angels of the incubus or succubus class couldn’t do. Their true forms would flicker and fade until they were old enough.

  Clearly, the succubus he’d killed at Jessie’s apartment had been spying on his activities for a while, and her report of his interest in Jessie had made it up the chain to Lachlan.

  First Michael informs them of the whole Satan’s-children-are-snarling-at-the-Seam bit and goes poof without telling them where that Seam is. Now one of the most powerful incubi ever created was on to the fact that Jessie meant something to a Guardian. Because of it, Lachlan would intensify his campaign to seduce her.

  The week was really starting to blow.

  “Would you let me go already?” Jessie wriggled out of his arms. “Who was that guy, and why were you fighting?” She sounded tired suddenly.

  “Don’t ever go outside without my permission.”

  “Do you realize how controlling that sounds?”

  “That man is dangerous, Jess. I won’t have you at risk.”

  “Why do you live here then?”

  “I was here first.” And he came for you, not me. The sex demon would be bloody sorry he ever laid eyes on Jessie when Nate finally tracked him down and finished carving his heart out. How Lachlan had managed to get away with his chest ripped open, his beating heart exposed to the elements like that, Nate had no idea. He was glad he’d had the archangel’s sword, otherwise he didn’t think he would’ve been able to best the ancient incubus.

  If his luck held, a raven would come and devour Lachlan’s heart as he hid during his convalescence.

  “Who is he?” A tremor passed through her.

  “Are you cold?” Nate reached in his trouser pocket for the door key since opening it with his powers would frighten her. Jessie moved past him as he held the door open, her coconut and berries scent utterly distracting now that his adrenaline was starting to subside.

  “Who is he?” she repeated.

  She sounded much too interested for his peace of mind. “He’s a vicious sex offender who’s going to pay for his crimes.” He closed the door and turned to face her. Her gaze narrowed on his cheek. She started toward him, her concern quickly morphing from surprise to confusion to unease.

  Nate’s hand went to his cheek. Stone the crows. Lachlan must have laid it open with his knife on the final lunge. Nate turned away from Jessie as he felt the skin prickle and burn as it began to knit back together.

  “Oh my God, did your wound heal itself right before my eyes?” She yanked him back around to face her. She shook her head, frowning. “You had this gash from the corner of your nose halfway to your ear…I swear.” Her fingers reached up to feather across his cheek. Jeweled sparks of color burst in his vision at her touch.

  “I assure you, I am fine.” He put an arm around her shoulder to steer her toward the bedroom door that lead to the hallway. “Let’s warm you up and get you something to eat.”

  “Please don’t patronize me, Nate.” She stopped abruptly by the sumptuous white bed. Standing there in all her red cashmere glory, she was better than a beautifully wrapped present under the Christmas tree.

  One he was salivating to open. “I only want to care for you.”

  “I could swear your cheek was sliced open.” She brought a hand to her forehead. “I don’t know, maybe I’m hallucinating. This week has been…hard.” Her whole demeanor dropped, her look so crestfallen he couldn’t help but pull
her to him.

  She stiffened for a moment before her surprise softened into something else.

  Something hazardous to his good intentions.

  She settled into his embrace, turning her face up to accept his light kiss. Which turned into a not-so-light kiss.

  Oh damn. Her hands snuck between their bodies, her fingernails scraping over the ridged muscles of his belly as she slid her fingers into the waistband of his slacks. His abs contracted as he expelled a deep-throated groan.

  She shivered in response and pressed closer to him almost like she was afraid.

  “I’ve got you, Angel.” Blood zinged through his veins. Inch by inch, she eased his silk shirt free of his pants. His fingers drifted up her red sweater dress to wind around coils of her hair. He pulled down on the satiny softness of her hair, tilting her chin. When her lips parted, his body shuddered with the need to take-ravage-possess.

  No. He shouldn’t take advantage of her. She’d been frightened. He knew she was. By Lachlan, but also maybe a little bit by him. She was still under the influence of the powerful fallen angel and could obviously sense things weren’t all that they appeared. It was usually at this point in his dealings with humans that he bailed. This time, though, he didn’t want to leave. Especially when Jessie’s fear was threaded with fragrant notes of her arousal. Damn, it was so bloody hard to be good and honorable. He didn’t want to be. Not right now. Not when she felt this good—this right—in his arms.

  Just one kiss.

  His skin was feverish as he grasped the sides of her face. With an aching slowness, he brushed his mouth against hers. Their breath mingled. He memorized every crease of her lips. The little pucker and bow of her upper lip. The lush fullness of the lower lip that was erotically pliable—and so velvety soft—as he drew it into his mouth.

  A breathy moan floated from her mouth, making his groin pulse painfully. He grabbed her wrists before she could go to work on his zipper. “My God, Jessie, I want you, but this isn’t right.”

  She opened her silvery blue eyes and blinked at him. He took deep breaths, picturing bloated and bloody roadkill and severed demon skulls to douse the lust crackling through him.

  Gradually Jessie’s eyes cleared. “What part of ripping your shirt out of your pants don’t you understand?”

  “You’re still under the influence of the incub—ah, that drug.”

  She exhaled loudly and shook her head like she was trying to clear out the cobwebs. “I’m ready to get on with our contract, and you want to talk?”

  He couldn’t help but smile.

  “Think that’s funny? Well, it’s not, you three-inch fool. It’s insulting.” She pushed away and walked unsteadily toward the fireplace.

  He reached out to support her arm, which she of course shrugged off. “Three-inch fool?”

  If he hadn’t been paying close attention, he would have missed the tiny quirk at the corner of her lip. She tossed her hair over one shoulder. “Oh come now, don’t all proper Englishmen read Shakespeare? It’s from The Taming of the Shrew. I have more medieval insults if you persist with this misplaced chivalry.”

  He’d bet money on it. “I don’t take advantage of women, Jessie. Why are you afraid of me?”

  “Asks the guy who sneaks up and grabs people from behind like a practical joking fifth grader. Lame.” She sat down on the bench and unfastened the high heels that probably looked way sexier than they felt.

  His gaze tracked her every movement. “I sense your fear, and I don’t like it.”

  “Sense my fear? What are you, some animal?”

  “Everyone’s animal instincts emerge in certain circumstances. You’d do well to remember it.”

  “That’s really weird, Nate. Who says shit like that? Still, I’m not afraid of you. But what happened out there…” She gestured toward the balcony. “I was awake and alert, but I couldn’t control my own actions. It was terrifying. Then all that fighting. I thought someone was being murdered.”

  “Unfortunately not this time.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “Never mind.”

  She got up from the bench to retrieve her phone off the dresser, more steady now that some time had passed and the Incubus’s effect was finally dispelling. Right now Nate would love to pull Jessie’s feet into his lap and massage her stress away. From there his fingers would slide up her shapely calves to the undersides of her pretty knees, on up her sleek thighs where he’d lick—

  Fingers snapping in his face.

  Jessie’s fingers.

  He liked those parts of her body, too. Wasn’t that just dandy? What was he saying earlier about being pussy whipped? Bollocks.

  She grabbed his chin. “Are you listening to me? We need to call the cops. The drug he used on me is terrifying. And what the heck was some deranged rapist doing way out here in the woods? On your deck?”

  She had no idea how right she was. Or how close her slim fingers were to being sucked into his mouth. He leaned out of her grasp before he gave in to his dark fantasies. “That blighter is long gone by now. What do you think the police can do?” Lachlan would probably hole up in an old castle in Scotland until his chest had repaired itself enough to seek out a new victim. A woman who would likely die because the demon would be so depleted he wouldn’t stop until he’d drained her entire life force.

  “I don’t know. Maybe put out a community alert so people can be on the lookout? We have to do something.” Jessie put her hands on her hips.

  The pose in addition to her furrowed brow and twisted lips utterly captivated him. “I’ll take care of it, alright?”

  “Did you hurt him?”

  He paused. He wanted to protect her, and he wanted to protect his secrets. But something inside—something uncommon—made him want to be as honest as possible, too. “I did.”

  “What kind of injury does he have?”

  Her voice was hoarse. Dammit, this was another reason not to get involved with humans. They made things so complicated. “Chest wounds.”

  “You stabbed him?!” she sputtered, her eyes roving over his clothes, likely looking for blood.

  “He’s injured, but he’ll be fine.” The Xiphos stab to the incubus’s clavicle had immobilized him long enough to allow Nate to punch into the demon’s rib cage and nearly rip his heart out of his chest cavity. “He was going to hurt you worse if I didn’t stop him.”

  A fallen angel as old as Lachlan didn’t die easily.

  And it would only be a matter of time before he’d be back for Jessie.

  Chapter 11

  He was going to hurt you worse if I didn’t stop him.

  The way Nate said it made Jessie’s heart flutter and pang. But then, that was probably still the effects of the drug. The drug that made her want to play Cleopatra to his Mark Antony.

  Yeah right. She’d wanted Nate in her bed long before the sadistic stranger had doped her.

  Nate stepped closer. Jessie hurried to her purse, pulled out her phone, and dialed 911. Nate did nothing to stop her. Only watched, carefully, silently.

  All she could get on the line was static. She tried Emily next. Same thing. “What the hell is wrong with cell reception out here?”

  “Why are you single, Jessie?”

  She couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

  “You haven’t had a serious relationship since high school.”

  “Are you asking about my love life when we should be filing a police report?”

  “Someone hurt you.”

  It wasn’t like he thought, though. It wasn’t like anyone thought. She’d never been able to live up to people’s expectations that she’d be as sexy and ethereal as her celebrity mother. “What would you know about my dating history?”

  “I guessed right then.”

  “Not hardly,” she replied. His intense gaze confused her. What was he thinking? She crossed her arms in front of her. “Do you have a land line?” She’d file a report, and then go to bed. Alone.

>   Or better yet, maybe she’d take a therapeutic dose of ScrewItAll, get Scourge from Mason, and go home.

  “No land line, Jess, but I told you I’d take care of this.”

  She threw her hands in the air. “But when? The authorities need to discover who supplies his drugs. I’m serious. This drug needs to be taken off the streets.”

  He opened his mouth like he was going to argue.

  “Please, Nate.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Fine.”

  When he turned away and pulled a phone out of his pocket, she heard him swear under his breath.

  He was frustrated. Well, so was she. “So your cell phone works out here, but not mine?”

  He shrugged, and she studied him while he paced, speaking in low tones to someone on the other end of the line. His striking dark hair always looked a little untamed. Jet black eyelashes cast spiky shadows against the smooth skin under his eyes, and the faint scruff on his cheeks, chin, and upper lip made her breath catch with its blatant masculinity, the gritty feel of it rubbing against her skin, a pure thrill.

  Her hungry gaze traveled from his beautiful face to the hand holding the phone—a very capable hand—and further up a sexy forearm that appeared almost structural now that his long sleeves had been rolled back. Her eyes caressed his shoulders outlined by the soft silk shirt, then tracked their way down his trunk, which tapered excellently to his hips and, oh wow, his bulg—

  “Like what you see?”

  Golly, yes. She took her sweet time bringing her gaze back up to his face. His nostrils flared, his stance widening as he translated the look in her eyes. She hadn’t even been aware that he’d finished his call. Her chest couldn’t expand with a full breath. She fanned herself with her hand. “Can I, uh, would you mind turning off the fireplace? It’s kinda…hot in here.”

  His eyes glinted, his lips curved. “It’s just you, Jessie.”

  She laughed and then cringed because it sounded so fake. “Yeah, maybe I should change.”