by T. F. Walsh
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Demon’s Fever
Hell Unleashed Series
T.F. Walsh
Demon’s Fever © Copyright 2017 T.F. Walsh
www.tfwalsh.com
Cover art by Yocla Book Cover Designs
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher/author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
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Contents
For more information…
Hell Unleashed Series
About Demon’s Fever
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Discover More…
About T.F. Walsh
Demon’s Mark Excerpt
Also by T.F. Walsh
Cloaked Excerpt
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To my incredible husband for his endless support and love.
Hell Unleashed Series
Demon’s Fever
Demon’s Mark
Demon’s Magic
About Demon’s Fever
A half-demon dating a demon hunter… she’s asking for danger.
After losing her dishwasher job, Cary Stone finds herself broke and homeless. And, oh yeah, she’s also a half-demon who has to stay in hiding because everyone wants her dead. Awesome. So when she’s offered a job to hunt demons at Argos Inc., she jumps at the chance to get a new lease on life. But in order to keep the job, she has to pass a series of tests…all of which she fails miserably.
Failing isn’t an option as Cary has to do whatever it takes to nail this opportunity. And then there is the hotshot demon hunter that is sexy motivation to reach her goal… but if he knew she what she really was, he’d want her dead too. Can things get any worse?
Levi Walker is pissed off. Seriously. After being the best demon hunter at Argos Inc. since forever, they want to screw him by not paying him for the jobs? Nope, Levi decides it’s time to go. Or at least it was until a hunt he’s on spins wildly out of control and causes a catastrophic loss…and everyone at Argos blames Levi. Now faced with being sued for the damage, Levi begins pursuing the evidence to clear his name. Jumping right into the fray, Levi soon finds himself in mortal danger. But he’s a fighter who'll battle until the end…which may come sooner rather than later, now that he’s met a beautiful and mysterious hunter at Argos and can barely keep his mind on the job.
Will Levi stay alive long enough to find the proof to clear his name and leave Argos for good or will Cary prove to be the sexy and dangerous distraction that he just can't ignore?
Chapter 1
Strong winds swept through the city street, throwing Cary Stone’s loose ponytail over her shoulder. Cars were in gridlock, bumper to bumper, on the two-lane road. With only three hours of sleep, Cary wasn’t in the mood for traffic, or the ocean of pedestrians brushing past her on the sidewalk. Another pleasant morning in downtown Detroit.
She grabbed a folded paper from her pocket and opened it, staring at what she wrote yesterday. Shadows from the lofty buildings blocked out the sun, and the breeze tore at the corner of her paper.
Retail Sales Associate.
Glamour Puss Clothing Co.
Drummer Street.
Ask for Jen.
9:15am sharp!
Wow them.
The ad didn’t ask for a resume, but said to convince the owner why you were the ideal applicant. Cary smiled. Dressed in knee-length boots, skinny jeans, and leather jacket, her style screamed casual street gear more than glamour. But she’d convince the owner that hard work was her forte. And if needed, she could do security, too.
Cary merged into the wave of bodies heading in the same direction. Shoulders nudged hers. She never understood why anyone rushed to work at the last minute. Leave home early; get organized.
Though, she couldn’t talk. Jobless. Two months behind on rent. And with no money, she contemplated breaking into the bakery store near her apartment after hours. The aromas that came out of that place had her salivating in her sleep. That was what her life had become—dreaming about food she couldn’t afford.
Living on the streets was becoming too close to a reality. That, alone, quickened her pace.
Farther ahead, the store came into view. The word Glamour sparkled in diamonds while Puss was scrawled across the back of a white, arching cat. Mannequins in furry lingerie littered the front window. Okay. That wasn’t the clothing store Cary had imagined.
Mental note: Next time research the store online.
A young girl emerged from the store, dolled in pumps, a mini skirt, and a cream pea coat. She juggled several shopping bags.
Cary glanced at her jeans, the worn lines at her knees, and the worn tips of her boots. Her belly sunk and seeds of doubt whirred through in her mind. One look at her and security would escort her from the premises, but walking away wasn’t her style.
She unbuttoned her jacket and patted the creases from her black T-shirt. She released her ponytail and fluffed her hair. The vibrant red color and waist length always captured attention and would detract from her outfit.
The traffic wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry, so she wove amid the cars to cross the road. When she stepped onto the sidewalk, a gust of air collided into her. And with it came a familiar sulfur stink, coating her throat. Her gaze swept the streets, people, and even the cars.
She coughed from the stink cloying her senses.
Bad timing.
She glanced at the shadowy street next to Glamour Puss. No sign of a possessed person, drenched in a silvery aura, but they generally converged in alleys like rats on a cadaver. Why hadn’t anyone told them how cliché that was?
Cary checked her cell—9:14 a.m.—and inhaled another lungful of sulfur. A part of her screamed to ignore the fiend. Not like anyone thanked her for the countless demons she’d vanquished. Still, her legs refused to move.
Destroy the vermin entering this world before they find out what you are. Her chest tightened as she stared at the glittery store that offered her a lifeline from her money woes.
Saving humans is priority.
Her dad’s words rotated in her mind. His wisdom meant jack. If he hadn’t left her six years earlier, just after her eighteenth birthday, she probably wouldn’t be the situation she was.
Son of a demon’s balls.
Cary sprinted past the bubblegum fragrance wafting from inside Glamour Puss. She careened left into a narrow passage between two buildings and followed her nose. If she kicked butt on fast-forward mode, maybe she’d still have time for the interview.
Right. Her boots splashed into puddles of what better have been rainwater, and she swung onto an adjacent street. Trucks and cars lined the curbs. Her hand sailed to her back pocket. She took out a pair of disposable gloves. The latex stuck to her fingers, and she pulled them tighter across her hands. They’d soften the pain a smidgen.
A woman’s scream from farther ahead sliced through the car hoots behind Cary.
She darted right, between two towering stores that backed onto an alley. The skunk-like reek burned her nostrils and brought tears to her eyes.
At the end of the blocked passage stood a bald man with tattoos flowing across his head. He had his back to her. His silvery aura confirmed he was, indeed, possessed, though in all honestly, she had zero idea why their aura showed. She preferred to guess it was the Almight’s little assistance to track down the beasts.
The possessed man’s body sidestepped as his hands gripped the metal fence in front of him, trapping the victim.
The perks of being born part-demon—fast healing, identifying demon auras, and speed—didn’t come close to counteracting the drawbacks. Demons wanted her dead. Humans would exorcise her if discovered. Yeah. Lucky her.
Cary grabbed the fabric gloves—the ones she’d soaked in salted water for a week straight, then studded with iron shavings—from her other pocket. She pulled them on her hands, on top of the disposable ones.
She shuddered from the acid-like sting burning her arms and bit down on her lower lip to ride the pain. But dealing with monsters meant a bit of misery. Okay. More like a shit-load of grueling agony.
One day, she’d find a pair of barrier gloves that completely blocked out the pain. But the latex ones reduced the full intensity. Better than nothing.
Another whimper erupted from the victim.
Cary marched closer. “Hey, prick.”
The man, clad in jeans and a hoodie, twisted around. Ink covered every inch of his face, covering his chin and onto his neck. Cary had no problems with tattoos, but that guy’s friends should have told him the look didn’t work. The same rune patterns and script continued onto his arms, but he wasn’t sporting yellow eyes like most victims of possession.
Strange and new. A combination that never blended well in her field, but she’d uncover what he was soon enough.
She caught sight of the girl with golden locks wedged between the monster and the fence. Her eyes screamed for salvation, and she released a helpless chirp.
“Surely, rats are more your style.” Cary stepped closer, pushing away his lack of glowing eyes. No time to overthink the situation—that only opened the door to panic and hesitation. Things that could get her killed.
Baldy growled, his nose scrunching. He glanced at a trashcan a few feet away, next thing, it skidded along the pavement and flew across the road. The bin crashed into Cary’s leg. She stumbled sideways and ignored the biting sting engulfing her arms.
“Try harder.” She marched closer and lunged, her hands latching onto his arm and neck. Six seconds under the strain of her blessed gloves and the scum inside the man would scram back into Hell. Always worked.
“Run.” Cary glanced at the trembling girl. “Now’s a good time.”
The girl bolted out of sight.
Baldy’s head twisted to watch the blonde vanish, and then he looked back at Cary. An evil smirk captured his mouth. “Six, five, four,” he said.
The six-second rule to vanquish demons wasn’t a secret hidden from the beasts. Except, they tended to focus on escape, not freakin’ counting down. The hair on Cary’s arms spiked.
“Two, one,” he continued.
Cary’s fingers tightened around his gnarly neck. A coil tightened in her chest. Why the shit isn’t it leaving the body?
Baldy’s hand snaked out, snatching a handful of her hair, and wrenched her backward. “Tasty, even for a crossbreed. But you’ve lost me a meal. Guess, you’ll take her place.” His lips peeled up, revealing razor sharp incisors stained with blood. She hadn’t seen one of these demons before.
“Not in this lifetime.” Sweat collected on her lower back. She drove her boot into his shin, then his groin. No effect.
A snarl gurgled in his throat. He flung her across the alley.
Her back slammed into the brick wall. Air thrust from her lungs, and she crashed to her knees. Each breath strained as dragged herself to her feet. Warm-up stage was over. She reached to her ankle and grabbed the blade tucked inside her boot.
No time to wrestle with the mystery of why the demon wasn’t vanishing. She saved the human first and now to finish the monster.
Baldy stormed closer, but she threw a roundhouse kick. Her boot struck his gut.
Stumbling back a few steps, he broke into a chuckle. “Fiery and delicious.”
“Shut the fuck up. Die.”
His smirk persisted. He pounced toward her, driving his palms against her chest.
Cary stumbled backward from the momentum. She hit the wall again, the back of her head smacking the brick building.
The monster charged and pressed his body against her.
Her vision danced and panic fed her adrenaline. No demon had ever gotten an upper hand on her. “Get off.”
Baldy pinned her in place, his hands trapping her wrists. His mouth dipped to her neck, teeth scraping skin. Sharp teeth pierced flesh again.
Her body shuddered as a scream pressed the back of her throat.
She kicked and kneed him. That wasn’t how it went. She did the butt-kicking. Not a vampiric demon sucking her blood.
His rough tongue licked her wound. Shivers engulfed her as did images of her life. Living alone. No friends. No sign of her father.
She snaked a foot around his leg and whacked her heel into the back of his knee. It didn’t dislodge him, but the move caught him off guard. He lifted his head. Blood smeared his grin, and her stomach churned.
Not wasting time, she slammed her forehead into his nose.
His grip loosened, and she wrenched a hand free. She thrust two fingers into his eyes.
He wailed, releasing her other wrist and a sudden explosion of electricity struck her body. Baldy flung backward and landed on his ass.
Cary fell to the ground as the last traces of electricity buzzed through her.
A group of men in white shirts closed in from the mouth of the alley. They threw a lasso around Baldy’s neck and tightened their hold. Baldy’s snarls permeated the air, his body thrashing.
Two guys were in a tug-of-war with the possessed.
Who the shit were they?
A van swerved into the alley. Four men jumped out and darted for Baldy. One jabbed an injection into his arm, and the rest dragged him into the vehicle. The doors shut, and the van sped away.
Cary couldn’t process what she’d just seen. She removed her gloves and clutched a hand to her bloody neck as she dragged herself to her feet.
“What’s going on?”
Her father, who was also a half demon, half human, had once said the majority of the populace had no clue that demons invaded the world. Though, apparently it seemed a small group of humans did hunt demons. And today she’d witnessed them in action. What had their lasso been anointed with?
A person cleared his throat, and her head jerked forward. A man in his mid-forties marched closer from the end of the alley. W
ith his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his slick, suit pants, he belonged in a boardroom with snore-fest lawyers not in a rank backstreet.
“How many demons have you destroyed to date?” His voice was as casual as if he were ordering a coffee at the local diner.
He had to belong to the guys who ambushed her demon, though with his perfectly groomed hair combed off his face and sunglasses hanging from his jacket pocket, he must be the one giving the orders.
“You often watch people from the shadows?”
He stopped a few paces away. “I wanted to assess your skills.”
“And?” Curiosity won out because he wasn’t the usual douche or homeless person who happened to catch her fighting a possessed. Those she ignored. But Mr. Suit had said the magic word—demons.
“You created those gloves?” he asked.
“Holy water, salt, and iron shavings. You can make them yourself if you want. But enough about me. Who are you and where did you take the inked guy? What did you inject in him?”
The corners of his mouth crinkled. “My name is Brent Moore. I run Argos, an organization that tracks and eliminates demons.”
Cary’s head whirred from the guy’s admittance, but not as much as her neck stung after the demon chewed on it. In the grander scheme of things, it kind of made sense. Some days, she’d battle three demons. Other times, nothing appeared as if someone had gone through town and cleaned the place up.
“What did you say your name was again?” He studied Cary as Baldy had done earlier, leaving her wanting to fold her arms across her chest.
