Claimed by the Demon Hunter

by Harley James

  As the plant began multiplying in front of Nate, the water’s onslaught ceased.

  Nate and Spencer slumped to the floor, back to back, soaked to the sinew and struggling to catch their breaths.

  “S-s-stuff you and your d-dastardly water element, Katherine,” Spencer finally managed.

  “Gee, I’m sorry. I’d like to see things from your point of view, but I can’t seem to get my head that far up your ass.” She turned off the spigot at the bar where she’d obviously generated the water cannon from hell.

  He shook water out of his hair and stayed on the floor, but he caught one of Katherine’s rare smiles. He wished she could find someone who made her feel like Jessie made him feel.

  Too bad she was such a bitch.

  She smoothed a hand over her perfectly styled chignon. “If either of you were my mate, I would poison your tea.”

  “Madam, if you were my mate, I’d drink it,” Spencer retorted. Dripping wet from his head to the tip of his classy Ferragamos, he rose to his feet with more dignity than most men could muster in the company of Her Majesty the Queen. He extended a hand to Nate. “The violence make you feel better then, scallywag?”

  Nate’s knuckles smarted and the whole left side of his face pulsated with his heartbeat, but he’d never admit it. “Quite.”

  “Jolly good.” Spencer punched him in the arm, and they both grimaced on contact.

  Katherine stared at them in that way of hers that made grown men feel like wicked children. “Well, this day is turning out to be a waste of makeup. Are you two schoolboys ready to continue our discussion on human soul mates?”

  Spencer pulled a match from his pocket, struck it, and used his fire element to manipulate the small flame into a large, levitating fire with enough heat to dehumidify their clothes, the floor, and the furniture.

  Katherine rolled Nate’s desk chair closer to the fire and sat down primly. “I don’t necessarily think your relationship with Jessie would follow the same trajectory as Alexios and Sophia’s because the key factor for Guardian selection never applied to Alexios. Michael just wanted him.”

  That much, Nate already knew. Whereas the rest of the Guardians had been unethical human beings, in his life as an ancient Spartan warrior, Alexios had been a pillar of honor and valor.

  Nate had never dwelled on it, but now it made sense why Alexios had so many more capabilities than the rest of them…

  Besides being two and a half thousand years old, he was the Archangel’s favorite.

  It also brought home how much Alexios had sacrificed all these millennia as their leader, because he’d had nothing for which to atone.

  “So my point is, Alexios’s situation isn’t a reliable predictor of yours,” Katherine continued. “What we do know is that Guardians have several potential mates, yet the bonding process is free will. Therefore, both parties have to choose one another in order for their souls to bind. Does Jessica even know what you are?”

  He should have known this was coming. “No, but I plan to tell her tonight after we get home.” He stared down into the club through the one-way glass. Jessie should definitely be at her station by now. Where was she? The doors were opening in fifty minutes, for chrissakes. He turned back to face his closest friends, his allies against the horrors of hell. “Look, I have a club to open. Can we talk about this sloppy stuff later?”

  Katherine shook her head. “The benefits of Guardian-to-Guardian bonding include an exponential increase in elemental powers. For instance, if you, an earth element, bonded with a Guardian possessing air powers, you would each share both powers. But with a human soul mate, what does it mean? Will Jessie get your earth element powers? Will yours simply grow stronger? Or will she weaken you? With the growing disquiet in the ether, we need to prepare for the eventuality of what may arise should you bond with her.”

  Nate rubbed his palms on his trousers. “Does it matter? We’re but one pair. That’s hardly cause for concern in the war against demons.”

  Spencer extinguished the fire now that everything was dry again. “I happen to agree with Katherine, Nate. There are too few Guardians the way it is. Especially Healer Guardians like her.”

  Nate looked at Kat who avoided his gaze. He often forgot what she was capable of, and just how much she hated her power to exorcise demons.

  For years, the Guardians had tried to understand why there were so few Healers, but so far, the archangels weren’t sharing their so-called infinite wisdom. Cocky sons of bitches.

  The walls of the room shook. The three Guardians reached out for the nearest piece of furniture to steady themselves. The hairs on the back of Nate’s neck stood up as Archangel Michael’s deep presence rolled through the space.

  “I thought you were on our side, Archangel,” he yelled.

  “I am ever your servant.”

  Katherine’s eyes widened as the three of them clamped their hands over their ears.

  “What am I to do about a human soul mate?” Nate asked.

  If you ask about Alexios, you’re dead, Katherine mouthed silently.

  “If I give you the answers, it’s not free will,” Michael said.

  “Free will is best exercised when all the information is at hand.”

  Michael suffused the room with weightlessness which had the three Guardians floating in mid-air. “Free will sometimes requires a leap of faith.”

  “Show off.” It was no use arguing with the Archangel. Michael always had to have the last word.

  “Not always,” came Michael’s reply.

  “Oh, bugger off!” Nate yelled, and the three Guardians suddenly dropped to their feet as Michael released them.

  Katherine’s glare told Nate to put a lid on it. “Can you tell us if the Seam will open tonight, Archangel?”

  “There are battles on the horizon. Stand at the ready, Guardians.”

  Nate glanced at Katherine and Spencer. Their expressions mirrored his flourishing anxiety.

  If Michael was warning them, shit was about to get serious.

  “How shall we prepare?” Katherine asked.

  “Let there be no division among you.”

  “That shouldn’t be much harder than finding a scorpion in a whale’s belly.” Spencer’s lip curled mockingly.

  “Spencer,” Katherine chided.

  Nate laughed, but felt like driving a nine iron through the drywall. Michael’s presence disappeared much more fluidly than it arrived. Nate wanted to go back to the beginning of the week with Jessie. He didn’t want to think about soul mates and death and a Seam opening up, spewing God-knew what hordes of demons upon the Earth to torture and terrorize innocent human beings.

  Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall toward his office. Nate’s stomach dropped. Something’s wrong. Three clipped raps sounded on his door. “Enter!” he bellowed.

  Dorian yanked open the door, his dark chocolate skin perspiring heavily at his temples. “There’s at least four hundred people in line outside, and we don’t open for another half hour.”

  “Crowds don’t normally spook you, Dorian. What’s the matter?” Nate asked, fairly certain he already knew.

  “I think we got a possession out there.”

  Chapter 18

  Nate practically flew down the stairs. He’d never been nervous on opening night. Not even when they’d opened Spencer’s club Inferno six years ago amid three simultaneous possessions. Katherine could handle the current sorority girl’s possession with the same aplomb she always had.

  Especially when all he had to do was offer—or threaten, depending on how you looked at it—to summon Guardian Healer Ari Grimmson to help her out. After that, Katherine was ready to single-handedly exorcise all demons in a thousand-mile radius. Nights when Spencer had a death wish, he told Katherine that the intimidating Viking Guardian was her kryptonite. Her greatest weakness could be her greatest strength if she would take her head out of her ass and let Ari bond with her.

  Nate always tried to stay out of Katherine’s warpa
th for a good three days after that.

  So yeah, she could handle this one pre-party possession.

  In the meantime, he’d ignore the simmering ulcer sprouting in his gut and find Jessie. “Where are you, Angel?”

  He received his answer as he rounded the corner. He followed Jessie’s laughter to the bar and nearly perished on the spot from a potent combination of lust and irrational jealousy. She was standing amid three male bartenders who sported wide, charming smiles.

  And Christ on a cracker, would you look at her?

  Red Riding Hood had grown up.

  A small red cape flowed down from the crown of her head, and her white, off-the-shoulder peasant shirt was cinched with black satin ribbon on a black velvet corset that pushed those glorious breasts sky high. The itty bitty red pouf thing that was parading as a skirt made her legs with the white, over-the-knee stockings look a mile long. He felt like licking his chops. Big Bad Wolf indeed.

  She must have felt the heat of his stare because she glanced at him, the subtle change in her smile a compelling little movement because there was so much awareness in that slight shift of her lips. He hardened instantly.

  At that moment, the DJ started the music, and Jessie began dancing—with the bloody bartenders—while looking at him.

  Her knowing smile made him want to bite through his cheek.

  He marched over to the bar, making sure each of the men saw the warning in his eyes as he cut through them to stand in front of her. Damn, he was dying to press his lips to the most sensitive spot on her neck where her pulse seemed to solicit his touch. When she looked into his eyes, her little shiver was gratifying. “It isn’t safe to walk about these woods alone, my pretty,” he said.

  “I’m tougher than I look.” She grinned and wiggled her shoulders in an inherently feminine way, making her breasts jiggle enticingly. He ached to take her home and show her how much he loved those creamy objects of his obsession, but he settled with brushing the backs of his fingers against her jawbone.

  Then again, he could always mind-wipe the bartenders…

  “Up here, boss.” She snapped her fingers next to her eyes once more.

  He blinked hard and lifted his gaze to focus on her lips. He loved those red-painted beauties, too. “You are always lovely, but tonight your brazen comeliness is as bewitching as a lake sprinkled with a million diamonds on a full moon night. I cannot look away.”

  Her blush was divine. “You and your fancy speech. Thank you. You look dangerously dashing yourself. I knew the mobster look would suit you perfectly.” Her eyes crinkled with her smile in that honest and open, yet intimate way he was beginning to covet. When she turned around to bump and grind against him, he realized JBlaze was out to play. And he was going to humiliate himself in an epic way if she did that for much longer. He grabbed her swiveling hips, holding her against him for a torturous moment before setting her away. “Are you looking forward to tonight?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “I’d jump up and down for joy, but my boobs are too big for that nonsense.”

  “Your breasts are magnificent, Jessica.” He dared to look at them once more before recalling what he wanted to impress upon her. “If you need help, find me, Jaws, or Dorian. Right away.” He’d chosen Jawahar, the security supervisor from Alexios’s club to teach Dorian the ropes at Mirage. Both men were like brothers to Nate. He’d entrust her care to either of them if he was otherwise detained.

  Jessie patted his cheek. “I’ll be fine. I’m a professional.”

  “So I’ve heard. But in case you feel uncomfortable about anything—signal me. I’ll be watching…every square inch of you.”

  “It’s my desire that you enjoy yourself tonight,” she whispered.

  A double entendre if he’d ever heard one. “I’ll hold you to that. Leave your car here tonight. We’ll come back for it after lunch tomorrow.”

  Her eyes softened. “Okay.”

  Someone yelled over the driving beat of the music. He turned back to see club promoter Eugene Ford walk onto the dance floor with three attractive women. Their hungry smiles reminded him of a wealthy, desperate woman he’d extorted for two hundred fifty pounds when he was sixteen. It had been a small fortune at the close of the Victorian era, but his lover had paid to keep her secret intact from her husband, The Lord Great Chamberlain.

  Nate’s skills at manipulation had especially blossomed from there. As had his bank account.

  The good ladies of high society hadn’t seen fit to warn one another about a smooth-talking, dark-haired chameleon who aspired to never be cold or hungry or taken advantage of again.

  A recent Georgia transplant to the Midwest, Eugene Ford was nearly Nate’s equal at manipulation. The young human’s dark skin, deep brown eyes, and tall, muscular frame had turned many a female’s head, but unless they wanted to be put to work in the oldest profession known to man, they’d do well to steer clear of the club promoter-cum-pimp.

  Nate was gonna kick Dorian’s ass for letting him in.

  Jessie planted a quick kiss on Nate’s lips that had him hungering for so much more. “You don’t mind if they see us?” he whispered.

  “I don’t think we’ve managed to dupe anyone, and I’m tired of denying my urges.”

  Her reply unleashed his pent-up desire. He reached out to grab her, but she was already on her way back behind the bar. In no time, the little minx was cracking jokes and delighting the other bartenders as they waited for the official club-opening countdown to start. Perhaps he should park it on one of the stools in front of her station—which was front and center of the whole bar—so he could keep an eye on her all night. He had his earpiece in, so he’d be able to hear security’s communications.

  Eugene walked up to Nate in a doctor’s lab coat with the nameplate Dr. Seymour Bush and whistled as he watched Jessie use her soda guns to squirt a clear stream at José. “Ooowee, she got the spankin’ body of a porn star.”

  A rush of heat spiraled through Nate and the floor actually rumbled beneath their feet as his earth element translated his angst. His nostrils flared as he struggled against the urge to wrap his hands around Eugene’s neck. “I already told you I don’t need your assistance, Mr. Ford.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. Tonight’s my freebie so you can see how good I am at what I do.”

  Nate’s fingernails dug into his palms. So hard to be good. He looked at Jessie and found her staring at him in concern. Try. For her. “I’m sure you’re good at what you do, but we can fill the club without a promoter.”

  “I’m not here to talk business. Tonight I’m partyin’ just as hard as the rest of the hoochie mamas and pimp daddies.”

  Katherine strode up to them with her customary composed elegance, but her skin was much paler than it had been in his office. She’d completed the young coed’s exorcism then. “You should go to the sanctorum to recharge,” he pushed at her on their shared Guardian telepathic link.

  “I would have, had your hormonal outburst not rattled the entire building,” she retorted.

  He wasn’t sure if that made him feel more guilty or more irritable.

  Kat turned to the club promoter. “If hoochie mamas and pimp daddies are your invitees of choice, Mr. Ford, you may as well rip up that tidy little contract I had my assistant prepare for you because you’ll never work for Unholy Inc again,” she said.

  “You should have run that by me first,” Nate said on the pathway.

  “There’s a 99 percent chance I don’t care, Nate. You’ve hardly been around,” came her scathing reply.

  “Can I get an instant replay of your cute little nose wrinkling while spitting out ‘hoochie mammas’ and ‘pimp daddies,’ please?” Eugene’s robust laugh caught the attention of all the bartenders.

  “Don’t annoy me. I’m running out of places to hide bodies,” Katherine rejoined.

  Eugene’s brown eyes widened. Nate hid his chuckle with a rough cough.

  “Ahh, shit. I’m just jerkin’ your chain, Lady K. Hey, you�
�re not even dressed up. It’s Halloween, fine lady. Why you in this business if you’re all uptight?”

  When Katherine started tapping her strappy, pointy-toe stilettos, Nate felt the urge to hit the hills. “Silence is golden and duct tape is silver. Which color are you favoring this evening, Mr. Ford?” she asked.

  Eugene grabbed a white napkin from the shelf behind the u-bench and waved it in the air. “A’ight. You the boss, Lady K. You don’t need me for any shit straight up, I’ll go check with my girls. Gonna be the fuckin’ party of the century with DJ Immortalis, Dante and his Dead Enders band, and JBlaze’s booty call.”

  Nate’s spine straightened. Booty call?

  Eugene’s wert whirl whistle drew rebound cat calls from all three male bartenders while that scoundrel José ass-bumped Jessie. The floor shifted so suddenly from Nate’s worked up earth element, that he had to grab Katherine’s arm lest she fall. She leveled a quelling look on him, but right now she could stuff it. She had no idea how close he was to firing one of their bartenders minutes before they opened.

  Do the right thing.

  Nate closed his eyes and breathed deep.

  “Bro, you got some badass special effects going on with that floor shakin’ like some hundred-foot snake’s slitherin’ right under our feet. High-five, motherfucker.” Eugene held up his hand, which Nate chose to ignore for the club promoter’s own welfare.

  Eugene dropped his hand. “Or not. See you later, dickhead, I mean, dude. Time to party.”

  When Eugene moved out of earshot, Nate turned to Katherine, but she beat him to the punch.

  “I suggest you get your Neanderthal impulses under control, Guardian, or you’re going to miss important details this evening. You do remember why this network of nightclubs was started in the first place, do you not?”