Claimed by the Demon Hunter

by Harley James

  And then they’d ask about him for the next eight hundred years.

  A small smile crept onto his face. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his lounge pants. She exhaled and returned his smile, glad that he seemed to realize she wasn’t abandoning him.

  “I was thinking about The Scourge yesterday. Why don’t you bring him back home with you?” he said.

  “What? No.”

  “Why not?”

  She wrung her hands. “What if he chews your furniture? Or pukes on your expensive rugs? Or drinks from the toilet? Oh man, no way.”

  He laughed. “If that little scrapper can drink from the toilet without falling in, I’ll grill him a steak every night for a month.” He drew the back of a finger down the side of her face. “If it would make you happy, bring The Scourge home when you return.”

  The Scourge. Her baby. Her throat felt unaccountably achy. She blinked at her shoes until the feeling passed. Guess it was her week for a fairy tale. “Alright. Thank you.”

  He brushed his lips across hers so fleetingly she brought her fingers up to touch them. He watched her fingers, his nostrils flaring slightly. His pupils expanded as his gaze dropped to her breasts, which were bundled under multiple layers at the moment, thank God.

  If you touch him when he has that look in his eyes, you know you won’t make it to Gramma’s until suppertime.

  She blew out a breath, hoping her raging hormones would diffuse. “I guess I—uh, we’ll see you later then?” She turned away and put one foot in front of the other toward her car.

  “Do you have any requests for lunch?” he called out.

  “I have so enjoyed your cooking, but you’re not my personal chef, you know.”

  His lips curved again, and really, she would love for those lips to be all the sustenance she’d ever need.

  “I love feeding you, Jess.”

  Okay then. Should she fall into a puddle at his feet now or later? “Whatever you make, I’ll love it.” She opened her car door, climbed in and rolled down the window thinking a good swift run on the treadmill for an hour or four might take the edge off her libido.

  He grabbed something she couldn’t see from a garage cabinet before approaching the car. Then he leaned on the car’s window jamb and captured her lips for a breath-stealing, open-mouthed kiss. Then he leaned in further to buckle her seat belt, whispering soft words in Latin as one of his arms reached behind her headrest. A fine grayish powder drifted onto her arms and legs, but as soon as she tried to brush it off, it wasn’t there anymore. “What was that?”

  He glanced into the woods beyond the driveway, his eyebrows drawing down fiercely for a moment before he brought his gaze back to her. “You have your phone?”

  “It looked like dust, but then it was gone. Did you see that?”

  “No, I didn’t. Your phone?”

  She put her foot on the break and her hand on the shifter. “Gotta go.”

  “Jessie.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Jeez. It’s in my bag, ogre.”

  “Keep it with you at all times and call me if you need me. For anything.”

  “Okay, sugar daddy.”

  “I’m serious, Jessie. I’ve got your back. You know that, right?”

  Did she? Like, did he mean for this week?

  Well, duh, of course just this week. What the hell, Jess? “I’ll be fine. I should be back around eleven, maybe eleven thirty. You’re sure about Scourge?”

  “I always mean what I say.”

  Right. That was refreshing. And sometimes, unnerving.

  She asked anyway. “What did you say as you buckled me in? That sexy Latin speak.”

  He kissed her hard once more, then he straightened from her car and walked away. Before he entered the house his eyes met hers, and he answered. “I prayed that you’ll always come back to me.”

  Then he closed the door without another word.

  Chapter 15

  Nate stood in the anteroom waiting for the garage door to close. When Jessie was gone, he streamed to his room via molecular teleportation to change into jeans and a dark gray t-shirt. In the weapons chamber beyond his closet, he selected a few shuriken throwing stars and the bagh nakh, a weapon with powerful claw-like blades inspired by the armature of big cats. Weapons master and fellow Unholy Inc partner, Jinx Tanaka had designed it to fit over his knuckles. It could slash through bone, which made it an effective weapon when going up against the milky-eyed, skeletal Nephilim.

  That class of fallen angel assailed a human’s mind, crumbling the individual from the inside out, the objective being mental illness. Unless a Guardian got to the human in time, self-harm usually culminated in suicide.

  The Rephaim, on the other hand, tended to make their human targets instigate social chaos, creating serial killers and suicide bombers.

  But no matter what evil incarnation the Guardians fought, all of the Devil’s pawns had one ultimate goal—to keep the Guardians so busy protecting humanity that they’d eventually slip up and leave their holy relics vulnerable. If too many of these religious artifacts found their way to Hell, Lucifer’s cage would be unlocked by their holy power. The kicker was, no one knew how many ‘too many’ was. So even the loss of one relic would be disastrous.

  Distractions were therefore unacceptable.

  Moments ago, Nate had seen a Nephilim lurking in the woods watching Jessie, which distracted him to no end.

  After three days, his death scar had still not returned, which indicated she was his soul mate. Every interaction, every hour spent with her reinforced the truth. The urge to protect and possess her stayed with him every moment, and he exhibited the advantages of a Guardian fortunate enough to find one of his potential soul mates—amped up senses and faster, easier energy recharge. Once soul mates actually pledged themselves to one another in a binding ritual, these advantages multiplied synergistically. For most Guardians that included sharing one another’s element.

  Those who never found a soul mate—or peevishly chose to deny them like his Unholy Inc partner Katherine—gradually weakened, becoming more and more susceptible to a darkness that inevitably bled to madness. He’d had a taste of this before he’d met Jessie, his emotions going flat. And as the millennia wore on, Alexios seemed to be slipping closer to this gloamy precipice.

  But Nate had a human soul mate. Why? What was the point? Humans couldn’t battle demons on any large scale. She was a dangerous distraction. Especially with the forecasted Hell-Earth Seam rending. If the Nephilim ever got wind of this, they’d never leave her alone. It made his palms sweaty thinking about it. At least Lachlan hadn’t returned. The sex demon knew he liked Jessie, but there was no way he could know she was Nate’s perfect match.

  Still, something didn’t feel right.

  Demon activity in a hundred-mile radius around Mirage had gone noticeably quiet in the last few days, which was never good. It generally portended bigger, badder shit because it meant the demons were gearing up for something.

  So, experience—and the archangel’s visit—suggested that the vicinity around Mirage would be ground zero for one of Satan’s first line children to break the veil between Earth and Hell on Halloween, when demonic power was at its crest.

  Jawahar, Nate’s temporary security adviser on loan from Alexios, had helped add several dozen Devil’s Traps inside the club. The two archangel-forged swords that Michael had given Nate and Spencer would also help level the archdemon playing field.

  One could hope anyway.

  Nate’s skin needled with aggression as he streamed down the stairs past the tantra chair in front of the fireplace where he’d warmed Jessie in more ways than one. Last night she’d joked that she’d start mooing like a heifer if their nightly ice cream trips became a habit. He’d noted the anxious tone underlying her flippant remark, but sensed she wasn’t open to talking about it. But he would. Tonight, he’d ask her why she had such a troubled relationship with food.

  With relentless memories of an empty belly as a
child, he couldn’t bear the thought of her denying herself the pleasure of food.

  They’d talked about so much in the past few days, but he wanted to know more. What made her feel so strongly about protecting the elderly? Why law school? What had happened with her mother? How and where and when had she met Emily and Dante? She described them as feisty, loyal, and champions to underdogs. They sounded like people he wished he would’ve known in his human life. But then, he probably would’ve taken advantage of them because that was how he’d rolled.

  Being kind and concerned for the welfare of others made you vulnerable. Nate had always been able to pinpoint that weakness in people. And he’d always used it to his advantage when the time was right. The recollection increasingly bothered him, which was remarkably annoying.

  She interested him on so many levels. Her outspoken thoughts, well-considered convictions, heart-felt emotions, even the way she slept—so quietly, like a real-life Sleeping Beauty. Never before had he met another human being who genuinely cared about people—even strangers—as deeply as she did.

  Nate laid his hand on the door handle leading to the garage, looking over his shoulder at the kitchen where he’d shared more about his life with her than any other soul—living or long dead. His house was brand new, but it was full of her now. Carried her scent. Beat with her energy.

  It wouldn’t be the same without her.

  He stepped into the garage and reached out with his Earth element, but the Nephilim in the long gray cloak was gone. Earlier, Nate had had no inkling of disquiet in the ether around his property. Why hadn’t his element alerted him to the Nephilim in the woods? The roots, grass, and plants normally sent minute vibrations of any foreign beings trespassing in his territory.

  Had Jessie somehow masked the Nephilim’s presence? Soul mates were supposed to enhance their mate’s powers, not degraded them. And why was it here in the first place? Couldn’t be because of Lachlan. Though they were both fallen angels, the Incubi and Nephilim didn’t associate.

  He’d let Jessie leave the house without him only because he’d layered her with wards and ashes made of blessed palms during last year’s Passion Sunday. If the Nephilim attempted to worm into her mind, what little skin clung to their gaunt frames would go up in flames, and it would take hours for the holy fire to burn itself out.

  Enough time for Nate to find the dastardly creature and decapitate it—the only way the damn thing would die.

  He grabbed a tomahawk from a garage cabinet, inhaling and exhaling slowly to calm the swirling in his gut. He wanted to control the situation—control Jessie—in order to protect her from what she didn’t even know could hurt her. Was that selfish? Moral lines could be so vague. Would he ever understand it all? Maybe one day he’d reawaken in twentieth century London to discover all this had been a shocking dream.

  He telepathically checked in with Spencer and Katherine at Mirage to let them know he’d be in some time after lunch to go over the spreadsheets. Then he streamed to a thick stand of trees behind the gym where Jessie worked out. The sky was thick with bundles of slate-blue clouds promising rain.

  A tall blonde co-ed at the front desk looked up when he walked into the gym, her eyes going wide, her hand fluttering at her high ponytail. He smiled, moving into the weight room. It took him less than a minute to realize Jessie wasn’t anywhere in the gym. His chest grew tight. She couldn’t have already worked out.

  That meant she’d lied to him, or something had happened on the way.

  He exited the building and crouched down to touch the grass. There was still a layer of frost, but the ground would register her spirit for several hours if she’d so much as passed by here. By now, he knew her essence.

  It wasn’t there.

  The good news was, there’d been no Nephilim in the vicinity recently either.

  “Where are you, Jessie?”

  He waited for a moment, knowing he hadn’t pushed the question into the ether too forcefully, but wishing she would answer anyway. But how could she? She didn’t know about any of this buggery business. Didn’t know about Guardians, fallen angels, demons, or soul mates. How could she actually believe someone was in her head talking to her?

  If he pushed any more thoughts at her, she might wonder if she was falling off her trolley.

  Nate stood and walked back into the trees. “Katherine, are you at Mirage?”

  “Just pulling up,” she responded.

  “Any other cars there?”

  “No.”

  He could feel Katherine’s unasked question, but he had no intention of answering. He didn’t think Jessie would be at the club, but he wanted to check before stopping at her grandparents’.

  He disconnected from Katherine and closed his eyes to focus his other senses. There were always hidden pieces to a puzzle if you were still enough to gather them. He walked into the heavily-forested, undeveloped area behind the gym, placed his hands on a smooth birch tree trunk, and opened his Earth element to the natural world around him. The moist, decaying leaves around his feet fluttered, raising a soft groan from the dank earth. The voice floated across his skin, raising gooseflesh, the muted echo of a crime yet unsolved.

  Some unnamed victim lay beneath his feet, and for the first time in his entire existence, it bothered him. He turned the disquietude over in his gut, curious about it, not sure he liked it. It made him feel responsible, obligated…

  Uncomfortable.

  He cleared his throat and knelt down to drag his fingers through the hard-packed, cold soil knowing he would return later to do what Jessie would do.

  Give voice to the victim.

  He’d also call in some free-agent Guardian buddies to track down the perpetrator. Guardians didn’t do the cold case thing often because they had enough to worry about riding herd on Hell’s demons. But this case should be a snap since the Earth’s insect ecology told him the body had been buried less than six months ago. With their elemental superpowers, the Guardians were nearly flawless detectives.

  For now, though, Jessie was his primary concern.

  Nate streamed in behind the detached garage of Tilly and Walt Jacobs’ house, located in an older, yet vibrant development in a suburb west of Minneapolis. Stroking the grass, he immediately sensed that a Nephilim had been in the area recently. Most likely last night. Demons generally hid during the day when their powers were weaker.

  He slid the claw-like bagh nakha over his knuckles and removed the tomahawk from its harness against the small of his back under his jacket. If the Nephilim was still around, Nate might not have to worry about the neighbors. One of the fallen angels’ useful tricks was temporal freeze—stopping time while they played their treacherous mind games.

  Nate moved soundlessly along the house hoping to spot Jessie’s car when he came around to the front. Her essence prevailed strongly here, but since she spent a lot of time at this place, he couldn’t discern how recently she’d actually been here. Damn. No car. He eased to the back of the house to listen for voices. Hearing nothing, he peered in a window. Then another. No one was home. Jessie must’ve already picked them up.

  But the Nephilim scent was all over the place. At least one was looking for her then—even though it was daytime and it risked being set on fire by Nate’s ash wards. That meant the fallen angel had no choice. In other words, it was on a mission for an archdemon.

  Blast.

  “Where are you, Jessie?” He pushed his question into the ether more aggressively this time. Bonded pairs could reach one another anywhere telepathically, but of course, he and Jessie weren’t bonded yet. She would actually have to know and accept that she was his soul mate first.

  Before that, she’d have to accept that he wasn’t human.

  That might take some time, and four more days probably wouldn’t cut it.

  Desperate times and all that bullshit. He tried reaching out again, this time adding an extra push with her full name. “Jessica Mathilda Blaze, where are you?”

  Immedi
ately her beguiling coconut and berries scent wafted through his senses overlaid with a fear pheromone. Was she scared because of his mind touch or—

  Are you okay?

  No answer. His chest squeezed. “It’s me, Jessie. Are you with your grandparents?”

  He heard her heart rate speed up. Bugger all. How was he going to do this? He started moving toward the woods behind her grandparents’ house. If he managed to see where she was, and he recognized the location, he could stream there instantly. “It’s alright, Jessie. Look around. Let me see through your eyes.”

  Like an old-time movie, flickering images scrolled through his mind before it all went dark. She was at her uncle’s. Nate scowled. He’d made it his business to know everything about Mason Jacobs before he’d purchased the nightclub that was targeted for shutdown by the Minneapolis police narcotics unit and the FBI in a joint taskforce.

  Mason didn’t do drugs himself, but he’d looked the other way for years when dealers sold it in the murky corners of his club. Mason was going to walk away without any jail time thanks to the agreement he’d cut with the feds by squealing on the dealers. Even now, the feds were planning their end game. But Mason would never get another liquor license. Stupid duffer should have realized that before he’d plunked Nate’s buyout money on that strip mall lease.

  Yesterday while Jessie was at class, Nate had been unable to enter Mason’s house due to dark magic a demon had laid down. It had been a while since he’d come up against powerful black arts like that, but it usually indicated a human and a cross-roads demon (which was actually another class of fallen angel) had entered a soul-binding contract.

  Yeah, that whole “sell your soul” thing was real, not just something the movie industry had made up.

  Mason and whatever cross-roads demon he’d promised his soul to weren’t messing around. Hopefully Katherine could heal Jessie’s uncle before Jessie found out Mason was cavorting with devils.

  Or he self-destructed.

  Or worse yet, before he put Jessie in jeopardy.