Demon Hunter (The Collegium Book 1)

by Jenny Schwartz

  “You’re safe.”

  Fay stumbled from the Fremantle portal straight into Yolanthe’s worried hug. Her mom had been waiting by the portal, seated in a camping chair.

  “I have to get out of here.” Fay appreciated the concern, but she had to get away from the portal. Power-burned, portal-sick, she had to get out into the open air before she disgraced herself.

  “Up the ladder.” Steve understood. He pushed her towards the ladder, then rested his hands against her back, then thighs, supporting her on the short climb.

  “Who are you?” Yolanthe demanded.

  “Steve Jekyll. Fay’s friend.”

  Fay brushed past Jim as he hurried into the laundry. “I’m okay. I just need…” She reached the back veranda, gripped the railing and breathed deeply. The evening air was alive with the scent of herbs.

  A few seconds later, Steve stood behind her. She let go of the railing and let his strength support her.

  “Anything following you?” Jim asked. A good question since he had the power of the portal to draw on for protection.

  Fay shook her head, her eyes closed.

  “We used Paul O’Halloran’s portal,” Steve said. “We didn’t tell him our destination and Fay used what she called a token to guide us here. Could he have followed us between?”

  “Paul couldn’t track a fart in a paper bag.”

  “Jim,” Yolanthe protested. She stood beside Fay at the railing and touched her arm. “Are you okay?”

  Fay opened her eyes. “Tired. The demon’s gone.” Her eyes closed of their own volition.

  “She’s power-burned,” Steve said. “I didn’t realize using a token between would require so much effort or I wouldn’t have allowed her.”

  “My choice.”

  “Ha.” He swung her up in his arms. “Is there somewhere we can sleep? We’ll tell you the full story in the morning.”

  “Fay has a room,” Yolanthe began.

  “That’ll do,” Steve said.

  Fay crashed.

  Chapter 13

  The near silent tap of keys filtered first through Fay’s waking consciousness. She rolled over to face the sound, opened her eyes and saw Steve.

  “Good morning, rohi.” He sat in a chair swiveled to the window, one foot braced on the sill and the computer balanced on his knee.

  “Morning.”

  He wore jeans but no shirt and his skin gleamed where the sun bathed it. The bed smelled faintly of him. A delicious sense of rightness flowed through Fay. She stretched and realized that though she wore a shirt, her trousers were gone.

  “I need a shower,” she said. The bedside clock said it was nearly nine o’clock. “And breakfast.”

  “I’ve showered, but for breakfast, I waited for you.” His hair was still wet and he’d shaved. “I thought I’d save time. I’m drafting the report to send to the senior members of the Collegium.”

  Fay’s drowsy pleasure in the small intimacies of life broke apart. She sat up.

  “Don’t worry. They can’t track us back.” He tapped the small computer. “Even with new technology, I’m a leopard. I don’t lead anyone to me and mine.”

  It wasn’t the thought of pursuit that bothered her. It was what the report meant: the Collegium’s purpose to serve humanity had been perverted by who knew what emotions and ambition, and the cause was her father.

  “I’ll grab that shower.” She scooped up her bag on her way into the bathroom. Her dad’s betrayal went further than her. It went to the heart of the organization he’d been trusted to lead. Her report would destroy him—at least, she had to hope it would. If the Collegium members refused to believe her and Steve, and Emma from the demon lab, then Fay would be forced to fight her dad and all the organizational power he commanded. Demons could not be loosed on the world.

  She ducked into the shower and turned her face to the stream of hot water. Fifteen minutes later she left the bathroom dressed, hair neatly braided and emotions under control. She would fight her dad if she had to, and she would win.

  “May I see?” She indicated the computer screen.

  Steve swiveled it to face her, putting an arm around her hips.

  She put her hand on his shoulder and felt the heat of his bare skin.

  He had started the report with the golem’s charge and covered the exorcism briefly. His disapproval of Angus came through clearly. Nothing, though, could make it easier to read Angus’s charge against her dad. “By the President’s order, we are to compel Fay and her powers.” Angus had attempted demonic possession.

  Steve set the computer down on the windowsill. “You haven’t kissed me good morning.”

  Her attention was on the report and the emotions it stirred, but his request nudged her with new obligations. Early morning intimacy included a kiss. She touched her mouth to his and was snagged by a surge of recognition. Steve, her lover. She deepened the kiss.

  His lips parted in welcome, tongue teasing lazily. His hand slid from her hip firmly up her body to close over her breast.

  The gentle squeeze sent pleasure through her, as sharp and urgent as pain. She made a muffled sound against his mouth and gripped his shoulder for balance while her free hand threaded through his hair. The rough silk of the short cut curls tickled her palm as her fingertips kneaded his scalp.

  He broke the kiss. “If you were naked…” He rubbed his face against her breasts, showing without words his pleasure in their position, he seated, she bending over him. “I want to lick and suck and bite you.”

  She dropped to her knees, breathless. “You’re almost naked.” She caressed his chest, finding a flat nipple and tracing a circle. She leant forward and licked it.

  “Do it properly.” A low masculine command laced with approval.

  “What?” She drew back to question him.

  “Not with the arm of the chair between us.” He guided her in front of him. “Here. Between my legs.”

  She shivered at how good it felt with his hard thighs around her, and at the sight of his erection pressed against his jeans.

  “Ignore it.”

  She glanced up at his face, to see his wry smile.

  “The first time, I want to come inside you. And not in your mom’s house.”

  Fay blushed.

  He stroked her face, enjoying the soft dampness of her lower lip. Back and forth his finger ran until it coaxed her from embarrassment and she darted her tongue at it, tasting him. Then he guided her head to his chest. “Please.”

  She teased one nipple, then the other, licking and lightly biting, discovering how good it felt to fill her senses with him and how his response heightened her own arousal.

  “Enough.” He groaned and hauled her up to lie on top of him as he ravaged her mouth.

  They were both panting when they broke apart.

  “The report,” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  She levered herself up slowly, reluctantly, stealing a final quick kiss.

  “I’ll get us a hotel room,” he said.

  “Yes.” She was grateful for him understanding, sharing, her reluctance to make love in the boardinghouse. As much as she wanted him, the knowledge lurked at the back of her mind that her mom—her mom—knew they were in here. What if Fay forgot herself and screamed?

  She scooped up the computer and retreated to the bed with it.

  Steve pulled on a shirt and buttoned it, while she edited the report, adding a couple of details, formatting it automatically to Collegium style. She added a couple of additional recipients to the list of senior Collegium members Steve had assembled. Captain Lewis Bennett might be burned out, powerless in terms of magic, and her father’s choice of a partner for her, but Fay judged Lewis cold and clear-eyed enough to see the truth and act on it; and he was no mean strategist. If he believed her and Steve, Lewis could be a decisive actor in the drama.

  But she didn’t want to think of divisions within the Collegium and the need to tear it apart to cleanse the demon’s infection. She
sought a distraction, and one was nearby and looking sexy. “What did you call me earlier? Rohi?”

  Steve smiled at her, sensual anticipation and intimacy in his eyes. “An Arabic endearment. Literally, my soul.”

  “Oh.”

  He sat beside her on the bed, the dip of his weight bumping their shoulders together and sliding them hip to hip. “Is it ready?” A nod at the screen indicated the report.

  “Mmm. I think so.” She hesitated. With this report, her personal break with her dad became a public challenge to his power and actions. Her breath shuddered as she inhaled.

  “Hit send.” Steve rubbed her back.

  The tiny tap of fingernail on plastic sent the message out irrevocably.

  “Good.” He took the computer and switched it off. “Now breakfast.”

  “Then the hotel room,” she said.

  He kissed her temple, a salute to courage. She held onto the promise of it. No matter the bad stuff, this was her chance to build a new life. One rich with emotion and people to love. She grabbed Steve’s hand and hauled him up from the bed. “Mom’ll be waiting.”

  The report served a dual purpose. When Yolanthe and Jim had read it, they knew what Fay had faced, and still faced.

  “Richard.” Yolanthe’s tone made the name a curse. “God damn the bastard. Demonic possession.” She grabbed Fay’s hand across the dining room table and held on fiercely enough to hurt.

  “I suspect that twist was Angus’s idea,” Steve said.

  Yolanthe transferred her glare from the computer screen to him. Outraged maternal protectiveness could have incinerated him on the spot.

  “Probably,” Jim agreed. “He sounds like a shit. But the Collegium has no right to try to control anyone’s powers. If the agreement isn’t freely given…”

  Steve nodded. “Without consent, it’s a combination of attempted slavery and rape.” The were yellow of his eyes contradicted the cool control in his voice. “I don’t think the senior Collegium members will tolerate, let alone support, Richard’s actions. They’re arrogant, not evil.”

  Unlike Richard.

  Fay intervened quietly. “The report finishes Dad’s career. If the senior members believe Steve and me—and I’ll fight to make sure they do—then an investigation will find Dad guilty of ordering the use of demons and attempting to compel my powers. He’ll lose his position as President.”

  “He should lose more.” Yolanthe turned to Jim.

  He held out his hands in a what-more-can-I-do gesture. “From what you’ve said of Richard, ambition and reputation rule him. Stripped of them…he’s impotent.”

  “I’d like to draw blood.” Steve looked at Fay. “But hurting him hurts others, too. Is the price worth it?”

  She leant against his shoulder for a moment, appreciating his understanding of her conflicted emotions. Richard had betrayed her, but he was still her dad and old ties of loyalty still ached.

  “It’s Fay’s decision.” Yolanthe accepted the situation reluctantly. A sob caught in her throat. “Baby, you’ve had the worst parents.”

  “Hey, none of that.” Jim put an arm around her and offered a clumsy hug. “Your daughter’s a strong woman. Be proud of her.”

  “Thanks, Jim.”

  “I am.” Yolanthe bumped her hip on the table as she hurried around it to hug Fay. “Just be careful.”

  “Richard and the Collegium don’t know we’re here.” Steve closed the computer. The faint click closed the subject, too. “I’m going to book a hotel room and we’ll spend a few days in Australia while the senior Collegium members sort themselves out. This is their mess. They should fix it.”

  Implacable. Fay heard the tone of unequivocal judgment. Just so would Steve rule as Suzerain to the weres. And all hell would break loose if the Collegium’s senior members didn’t fix things to his—and her—satisfaction.

  “You can stay here while you wait,” Yolanthe said.

  Steve and Jim exchanged a masculine look of understanding.

  “Kids need their space,” Jim said.

  Steve grinned.

  “Oh. Oohhh.” Fay’s mom hesitated. “I wouldn’t mind if…well, I would…but I don’t have any right…I mean, Fay’s twenty four and…you’d be safer here at the portal.”

  “A hotel room is fine.” Fay mastered her own embarrassment. A parental chat, even obliquely, about sex was oddly uncomfortable. Richard hadn’t bothered. She’d learned the facts of life at school.

  “Dinner tomorrow. At seven,” Jim said. “We’ll expect you.”

  “We’ll be here.”

  Chapter 14

  The hotel room was glorious, white and blue with subtle touches of a nautical theme. Scandinavian-style wooden furniture invited guests to sit and dream. The huge windows looked over the port to the distant horizon, the Indian Ocean clashing blue to blue with the immensity of the cloudless sky.

  Fay looked at the bed. It was massive, bridal in its whiteness. A tumble of pillows and cushions were artfully arranged by the headboard. She hugged her arms awkwardly around herself, straight-jacketed by acute, uncharacteristic shyness. If there was a way to navigate this minefield of pre-foreplay, she didn’t know it.

  “Ravish me.” Steve threw himself backwards onto the bed and his eyes laughed up at her. He reached out for her.

  —and that easily, the unexpected jitters vanished. This was what she wanted. He was what she wanted. She just had to let go and the desire between them would do the rest.

  “Idiot.” She fell on top of him.

  “Be gentle.” He hitched her hips into alignment with his and her thighs naturally parted to trap him beneath her. He squeezed her butt.

  “Why?” She nipped his throat.

  “I’m fragile.”

  “Uh huh.” The hardness pressing between her legs gave the lie to that story. She wriggled happily, moving up his body to reach his mouth. She licked her tongue from her lips to his and joined their mouths. A shiver of anticipation mingled with satisfaction. His taste was spice and male challenge. She stroked his lower lip, enjoying the moment.

  His chest rose and fell beneath her, powerful and aroused. His tongue touched hers, slid past and into her mouth. A stealth attack, like his hands. They roamed up her body, sliding from her jeans-clad butt, under her shirt, unclipping the bra, pausing.

  “Please,” she whispered permission against his mouth.

  “Take off your shirt.” His thumbs moved maddeningly just below the swell of her breasts. “Seduce me.”

  Ravish me had been a tease and a challenge, helping her out of shyness. Seduce me was tender and true.

  She’d seduce both of them. Fay sat up and unbuttoned her shirt, holding his gaze. She liked the heat in it, the hunger and appreciation. She flung aside her shirt and bra, uncaring where they landed. Her attention was on Steve, whose features were stark with passion.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  Her breasts were swollen and tight, aching for his touch. It was erotic to be semi-naked over him, the last of her shyness burnt away by his response. She could feel his tense arousal, but he was controlling himself, taking it slow, respecting her inexperience.

  He dragged himself up the bed till he reclined among the cushions and pulled her up over him. Her breasts pressed against his chest till he held her a fraction away from him. “Watch.”

  With one finger he traced a blue vein beating under the pale skin of her left breast. She studied the tanned strength of his hand against her softness and shivered as his fingertip circled a nipple. The swollen bud hardened further. She gripped his shoulders, bracing herself, unconsciously grinding into his pelvis. He circled the other nipple, sensitizing her skin, wrenching her between wanting to scream for him to hurry and wanting to linger in the moment.

  “Lift up,” he said.

  Her thighs trembled as she knelt up, presenting her breasts to his mouth. It was flagrant, pagan. His warm breath felt scorching. Then oh so slowly his tongue circled the nipple, his mouth covered, tigh
tened and he sucked.

  “Steve!”

  Color burned over his cheekbones. He looked up at her without releasing her breast and sucked again with luxuriant possession. His eyelids lowered, dark lashes fanning against the soft skin beneath his eyes. He had given himself up to the pleasure of her breasts, sure in the knowledge it pleased her, too.

  She shivered as air cooled the wet nipple, but he was already nuzzling a path to her other breast, teasing her with how it would feel. It felt incredible.

  Her jeans zipper slid down unnoticed. With her thighs spread, he couldn’t work the denim down, but he scratched his nails across the cotton of her knickers and her hips bucked at the sensation.

  Her instinctive response triggered Steve’s, breaking his slow careful control. He flipped her on her back and pulled down her jeans and knickers in one swift movement, tearing her bootlaces with were strength so that she lay naked on the white bed.

  “I want you.” Muscles flexed in his arms as he stripped the bed covers.

  She lifted obligingly, settling back on the cool linen to watch him undress. “It’s mutual.”

  The shirt went first to reveal the gorgeous chest she’d petted and kissed this morning. She licked her lips, then froze as he shoved down his jeans and his arousal jutted out. When she dragged her gaze up to his face, she found his eyes waiting for her.

  Deliberately he kicked off his boots and jeans and put a knee on the bed. He was big all over. Ready for her.

  The butterflies in her stomach thundered like dragonflies. She covered the taut muscles with her hand, seeking to ease them.

  He stretched out beside her, teasing her breasts with one hand while he bent over her and indulged in an endless, mind-blowing kiss. Her nervousness subsided under the leisurely play till she was arching up into his touch and touching him in turn.

  “I like you like this,” he said.

  “Like what?” She could barely form the question.

  His hand was between her legs, stroking, teasing, dipping shallow, never staying long enough for her to find satisfaction.