Stripped Away

by Sydney Somers

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Stripped Away

  Copyright © 2008 by Sydney Somers

  ISBN: 1-59998-673-6

  Edited by Lindsey McGurk

  Cover by Anne Cain

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: February 2008

  www.samhainpublishing.com

  Stripped Away

  Shadow Destroyers Book Two

  Sydney Somers

  Dedication

  To the wonderful women who take time out of their busy lives to test read my stories.Amelia, you rock at catching those words I tend to overuse. Pam, no matter how close I am to deadline you always make time for me. Laurie, your insight into what I’m doing right in a scene makes revisions an even more enjoyable experience. Stephanie, you always nail those inconsistencies that somehow write themselves into my stories. J

  One of these days I’m going to have to add an outtake section to the back of my books to show off all the amusing typos you ladies catch.

  For every evil there stand guard those who would die to protect the innocent.

  In a time of ancient magik and blood feuds capable of dividing entire kingdoms, a dying king feared for his people. Feared they would be lost to the very demons he’d helped create—a race of beings that he’d cursed to feel no emotion, a race driven by the hatred forged between two brothers at war. Thousands perished, until the same powerful magik the king used to curse the Shadow Demons became his peoples’ salvation. A magik that let them absorb a Shadow Demon’s abilities when attacked, to use these gifts of healing, speed and telepathy to adapt—to survive.From those strong enough, skilled enough, brave enough, there arose a group who sought to protect their families and loved ones the only way they knew how. To destroy the demons before they could slaughter another innocent. These survivors, Shadow Destroyers, became the elite, the ones first called upon to defend and watch over those who needed them, relying on abilities that had changed the very essence of who they were.

  The war raged for centuries until finally a descendant of the king defeated and imprisoned all Shadow Demons in a realm where they would have no body to call their own, spending eternity drifting in a fathomless abyss, looking into the human world, but never to be part of it again.

  Even the purest of magik, however, cannot control that which is purely evil, and it was only a matter of time until the demons found a way to breach their prison. But for every demon determined to cross into our realm, there stand guard those who would die to protect the innocent.

  They might be the quiet next-door neighbor, the woman who wanders the street late at night, the man who always buys his coffee at the same place every morning.

  And they are all that stand between us and them.

  Prologue

  “Buy me a drink?”It was a tempting invitation. Too tempting.

  Which was exactly why Braxton Murphy didn’t lift his head from the file open on his desk when he responded, “I’m behind on paperwork.”

  If he glanced up and found the sexy-as-hell face belonging to the even sexier voice, he might not be able to remember all the reasons not to get involved with another agent. Reasons that ensured he didn’t do something stupid.

  With a quick mental inventory to tally those reasons—beginning and ending with not wanting to screw up the somewhat friendly relationship he and Quinn already had—he gave himself another second to make sure he wasn’t about to cave and take Quinn up on her offer. Given the way he couldn’t keep his gut from tightening or his pants from stretching tight across his groin when he got within ten feet of her lately, he might skip the bar altogether and drag her home. To bed. Where he could spend hours sampling every inch of her 5’8” frame, inch by slow inch.

  Okay, probably not that slow. And he needed to get a grip. One sharp indrawn breath through a clenched jaw wasn’t nearly enough to cool the hot wall he felt squeezing in on him when the only thing between the two of them right now was his desk.

  Long wavy strands of black hair fell across the open file. “What are you working on, Boy Scout?”

  He frowned at the nickname she’d given him after only being with the Shadow Destroyer network a couple of months. Once upon a time her reference to his by-the-book methods earned her nothing more than an eye-roll. Lately he was in the habit of doubting those methods that drew a clear line that read Do Not Cross right between them.

  “Come on, I just got back and don’t feel like unwinding alone.”

  The playful plea in her voice—one that dared him to say no—brought his head up. He expected to find a lot of things when he leaned back in his chair. Quinn’s bright turquoise eyes, thick black hair complete with the streaks of electric blue she favored and a playful grin that never failed to make him sit up and take notice. But tonight he wasn’t expecting the sultry curve of her lips—a smile meant to seduce.

  Quinn never looked at him like that. For the last two years sexual tension had occasionally simmered between them. Sometimes on low and other times a hard, roiling boil. A few times in the early days of working together she’d made a passing comment he could have acted on, an invitation, like tonight’s, that could have laid the framework for something more physical between them. But he’d always held back, determined to avoid the complications of getting involved with another agent, and she had never pressed the issue.

  Next to Rae, he was second in command, which in situations like this, jammed him right between a rock and a hard place. Even if Quinn was game and he was willing to risk their professional relationship by throwing casual sex into the mix, it would go against the unwritten rule of not screwing agents under his authority.

  The seductive expression on her face tonight—right down to the way she perched on the edge of his desk and leaned forward to allow him more than an eyeful of what lay under the burgundy button-up shirt she wore—was pure siren. And if the devilish glint in her eye was any indication, she wanted to lure him right over the edge.

  “Come on. One drink. I’ll even let you beat me at a game of pool.” She toyed with the button that would give him an even better view of her breasts.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  She arched a brow, then flipped the folder closed and scanned the top of his desk.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “You must have jotted pro and con notes down for this situation. Just want to see what the cons were since we both know what the pros would be.”

  The insinuation of what she blatantly implied stuck in the back of his throat. Braxton sucked in a hot breath that tunneled clear through his middle and settled uncomfortably right in his groin.

  “You’re not about to make me beg, are you?”

  “Quinn—”

  “Brax,” she interrupted. “I’m just asking about a drink.” He might have believed her until she reached out and traced the top of his hand in a slow figure-eight he felt all the way to the bone.

  She abruptly sat back. “You’re still going to pass, aren’t you?”

  “You just got back from
assignment. When was the last time you slept?”

  “On the plane, but thanks for worrying about my sleeping habits.” She stood up, crossed her arms.

  “You have debriefing tomorrow. No point in not getting rested up.” He was reaching now and they both knew it. He didn’t need to sift through her thoughts to confirm it. Not that he could very easily. Out of all the agents, Quinn’s mental shields were the strongest, ones that kept him firmly out unless she let her guard down. And that wasn’t often.

  She sighed. “Naturally. Must go home and right to bed. Forgot it said that on the first page of the rule book.” She turned and strode away from him, a hitch in her stride bringing her up short.

  Braxton stood up. “You okay?”

  Her hand paused over the side of her thigh, then she glanced over her shoulder. “I’m fine, but I’d be better if I wasn’t leaving here alone.”

  “Not tonight.” He had to force the words out. He continued to stare after her when she disappeared down the hallway leading to the field office’s main exit.

  Hands shoved in his pockets, he was still rooted in place when Gage stopped in front of him.

  “Working late again?” Gage didn’t even cover the derision in his voice at the sight of the paperwork on Braxton’s desk.

  “For a bit,” he answered, distracted. He couldn’t get the look on Quinn’s face out of his mind when she mentioned the pros of them going out. “How was Prague?”

  “Fairly uneventful. Not a Scion to be found. But a particularly nasty lust demon nearly got the jump on me. Quinn had my back though.”

  Brax tucked the knowledge away for now, knowing a debriefing about their assignment would be in the works for tomorrow. Part of him hated that they hadn’t been able to get a lead on the Scion, the other part was relieved he hadn’t missed out on taking down a master Shadow Demon.

  “Did Quinn already head out?”

  “Yeah.” He flipped the file closed, replaying their encounter in the back of his mind. But instead of it ending with her walking away, he hauled her across the desk and into his lap.

  “I need to crash. I’ll catch ya tomorrow. Is it your turn to grab coffee in the morning?”

  “I think it’s Drew’s.”

  Gage shuddered. “If he shows up in the morning with only black stuff, I’m cutting him a new asshole.”

  “Save yourself the effort. It’ll only dull your sword.”

  Snorting, Gage headed out the same way as Quinn, and Braxton dropped back into his chair. He stared at the small stack of folders with no small amount of loathing. He might be more dedicated about staying on top of the paperwork they had to file after every assignment, but he damn well wasn’t a fan of it. At the same time, he wasn’t about to lose a day to being confined to the field office because he was behind on the bureaucratic crap.

  Why his faceless superiors wanted them to note every detail on each encounter with a Shadow Demon was beyond him. Chances were any encounter only led to one thing. Vanquishing. Why they needed to fill in the blanks when there was one less emotion-thirsty demon prowling around didn’t make sense in the scope of the big picture as far as he was concerned. But it was part of the job, plain and simple.

  In the back of his mind he registered Drew and Gage talking near the elevator, but didn’t intrude on their thoughts to find out what they discussed. The ability to read their minds came part and parcel with the mutation of the gene he carried—the Destroyer gene that had made the difference between death at the hands of a telepath Shadow Demon and a career of vanquishing them.

  “Quinn been drinking?” Drew asked, pausing next to his desk.

  Braxton frowned at the blond Shadow Destroyer known among the other agents as the quintessential ladies man. “I don’t think so.”

  “She’s been smoking something then. That woman has never made a pass at me since we’ve been working together.”

  “Not every woman bows down at your feet.” Though Drew probably had a pair of women’s underwear stuffed in his pocket as proof to the contrary.

  “Well Quinn didn’t bow exactly, but the offer of a beer at her place wasn’t exactly a turn off.”

  Braxton tossed the folder in his hand aside. “She asked you back to her place?”

  Drew grinned like he’d reached the peak of Mt. Everest. “Surprised me too. Too bad I already have plans tonight or it might have crossed my mind to take her up on it.”

  It didn’t take more than a peek at Drew’s thoughts to know he added that last bit just to piss Braxton off.

  Drew narrowed his eyes. “That’s not cool, man.” He snatched the globe paperweight off the corner of Brax’s desk and threw it at him. Like Quinn, Drew’s genes had been mutated by a stealth demon, giving them heightened senses, reflexes and speed.

  Only the glimmer of Drew’s intentions gave Braxton enough notice to catch the paperweight before it nailed him square in the chest. Even being more resistant to injury than the average person, the stone weight still would have hurt like hell if he’d missed.

  “Nice catch.” Drew grinned and strolled away.

  Braxton set the paperweight down and dropped back into his chair. He swiveled around to face his computer, his hand pausing over the mouse.

  Snippets of all three conversations replayed in his mind.

  He froze. Shit.

  He snapped his cell phone off his desk and dialed Quinn. He was halfway to the main elevator when he gave up on her answering. Disconnecting the call, he then redialed and tried Gage instead.

  “Calling to offer to do my paperwork while you’re at it?”

  Braxton stabbed the call button for the elevator. “Are you still in the garage?”

  “Yeah. What’s going on?”

  “Do you see Quinn anywhere?” The doors slid open a moment later and he entered the lift.

  “Just a sec.”

  Braxton glared at the floor buttons that lit up, signaling the elevator’s sluggish descent.

  “Gage?” He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate, hoping Quinn was still close enough he might be able to pick up on her proximity.

  “Her car is still here,” Gage said slowly after another few seconds. “But I don’t see her anywhere.”

  “Try the bar.” They all tended to stop into Kane’s for a beer once or twice a week. Seeing as how it was only a block down from the front company that masked their field office, it was convenient. Tonight it was too damn convenient for Quinn to find someone to take home.

  “You think she went for a beer?”

  “I think she may have gone looking for a hell of a lot more than that.”

  The elevator doors opened on the first floor and he headed for the hallway exit, pausing for the retinal scan that kept out people who didn’t belong. Even the field office’s small group of support staff that occupied the first level didn’t have access to the upper floors.

  Braxton reached the lobby, hoping he might even get to the bar before Gage.

  “You know something I don’t?” Gage spoke in his ear.

  “You said you guys tangled with a lust demon and Quinn came on pretty strong to both me and Drew tonight.”

  “Well hell.” Something like the sound of the phone being switched from one ear to another echoed over the line. “I see her.”

  “You still in the garage?”

  “Yeah. I’ll meet you back upstairs in a minute.”

  Braxton paused on the front sidewalk, wanting to bring her in himself. If he were any closer to the underground lot, he might have. Gage was already there. He’d handle it.

  It wasn’t unheard of for agents to become infected by the weird mojo lust demons put out. Most times an agent needed an open cut to feel the resulting heightened sex drive. If he had to guess, Quinn had been injured during the fight. Even the most minor cut was all that was needed. That, and a few hours for the temporary infection to work through her system. He didn’t know whether or not to be disappointed that what she’d said tonight was obviously the initial
stages of the infection talking.

  A few minutes after he hit the central office, Gage came off the elevator with an unconscious Quinn in his arms.

  “She let you get close enough, I see.”

  Gage snorted. “Another half a second and she probably would have broken my arm.”

  “It would have healed.” He led the way past the common room and down to the private quarters. They’d never had to use the room for anything other than one of them occasionally catching some shut-eye, until now.

  “Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t have hurt.”

  “For about thirty seconds.” One of the perks of being initiated by a war demon was inheriting their ability to heal almost instantly, or within hours depending on how much of the demon’s dakorum, its essence, had been absorbed during the initial stages of the gene mutation.

  “Either way, I’m just glad she isn’t likely to remember enough of this to be pissed at me for pulling a Spock on her.”

  Gage was lucky she even let him near the base of her skull. The only Achilles’ heel on any Destroyer was the pressure point they were careful not to let anyone near. Only other agents knew about the weakness, and if she’d had any idea what Gage had intended, she would have been five feet away from him before he realized it.

  Gage laid her on the bed and disappeared out the door with a brisk, “I’ll be right back.”

  Alone, Braxton allowed himself to sit next to Quinn on the bed, taking a second to smooth her hair back from her face. The slight brush across her cheek unraveled some of the tension he’d been carrying around since she first parked herself on the edge of his desk.

  In sleep her face was void of the wild energy that seemed to surround her, pulling friends and coworkers headlong into the chaos she fully embraced, an unpredictable chaos that defined their lives and careers. He could appreciate vanquishing demons, sparing the innocent from one more human-looking monster that would feed off their emotions. But Quinn…Quinn loved every second of what she did. Hell, the woman slayed demons with a smile on her face.