“Or,” Abaddon said with a cruel smile, “find her niece, Sarah Cohen.”
Jaral blinked. “Niece?”
“Kerilyn’s brother fathered a brat before his untimely death. Whitney blood.”
“I shall find the girl.”
Abaddon nodded, satisfied. “When you do, contact me.”
“As you wish, Majesty.”
“Your orders have changed, my son.”
Jaral stilled. “Father?”
“I no longer wish the rift closed,” Abaddon declared. “I want you to rip it open as wide as you can. Let the spirits overrun this world. Earth shall be our battleground and eventually, we will triumph over both the mortals and spirits.”
His breath froze. His father had just ordered the destruction of Darcy’s world. “Are you sure that is the best course, Father?” Jaral asked, knowing even as the words left him that they would enrage his king. “We could devise a more stealthy attack to take the spirit throne.”
There was no warning. One moment he stood before his father and the next crippling pain crashed over him. Every cell in his body exploded in agony. Jaral crumpled to the ground, gritting his teeth to keep from making a sound.
“You question me?”
Jaral heard the threat beneath the words. One more wrong step and his father would destroy him.
“Forgive me,” he said though the words tasted like ash in his mouth. “I only sought to offer an alternative.”
“I want my brother dead,” Abaddon snarled. “I want his mewing queen screaming as I tear flesh from her bones. Every hunter in this world will cower before we sweep through them, offering bloody death to all.”
Through the pain in his body, Darcy’s face flashed through his mind. His father would never touch her.
“Demons will reign. We will no longer be confined. I shall ready our army and you, my boy, will open the gates for us. You will help me end this realm. It will be the greatest triumph in demon history.”
The pain stopped as suddenly as it’d started. Jaral glanced up at the flickering image of his father.
“Do this,” Abaddon said, “and I will acknowledge you as my heir.”
All other thoughts disappeared as Jaral processed the words. Heir. He’d finally have the position he’d fought all his life for. His power would be secure. Only his father would rival him in the demon world.
Abaddon had just offered him the only thing he’d ever wanted. And the satisfied look on his father’s face showed he knew it.
Jaral reviewed his options. Destroy a race he despised and win a throne or stay true to a temporary lover and ruin his life.
There was no contest. So why did agreeing leave a bad taste in his mouth?
“I will do as you command, Majesty,” he vowed.
A cold smile was his reward. The king looked well pleased with himself. And why not? Jaral thought drily. He was getting the war he wanted without any of the work.
When Abaddon glanced behind him toward the hallway leading to Darcy, however, the breath froze in Jaral’s lungs. He was not fighting his father for a hunter, he vowed. But even as he made the decision his claws lengthened and his body prepared for battle.
Abaddon looked back, obviously dismissing whatever had caught his attention.
“I expect your report on Sarah as soon as possible,” he declared.
“You will have it.”
“Good.” With the final word, Abaddon winked out of existence.
Jaral stayed where he was, mentally following the magic trail his father left. It wouldn’t do to have Darcy come out only to find his father wanted to give an encore performance.
The magic ties dissipated into the air but still Jaral didn’t move. Darcy had thought using her kin against her a betrayal. If she found out his new mission, she’d do everything in her power to put a knife through his heart.
And that would only lead to a dead hunter in his arms.
Jaral closed his eyes. He’d never intended to keep her forever but if he did as his father commanded, her future would be bleak and bloody. As would the fate of every other mortal. He had no love for the humans, but mass genocide was evil even by his skewed standards.
“Power,” he murmured. Absolute power over his brethren. Surely such a prize was worth some bloodshed.
But was it worth the woman who could be his mate?
Chapter Seven
She knew what she should be doing. What any decent hunter in her position would do. She needed to find a way around whatever spell Jaral had cast on the door and listen in on what might very well be the most important conversation in recent hunter history.
Instead she paced the room, her heart racing and the blood thundering in her ears. Adrenaline surged through her veins as she tried to fight down the survival instinct demanding she run for her life.
Her demon partner was a freaking prince of the realm. A creature so shrouded by myth and secrecy the majority of her brethren would never believe he existed. But exist he did. He’d been by her side, in her bed. Abaddon’s loyal son had kissed her with more passion than any man she’d ever known.
Lusting for a demon was bad enough, but this demon? It was inconceivable. What sort of twisted nightmare had she landed herself in?
Darcy tunneled her fingers through her hair. On a scale of one to bad her choices lately had been off the charts. At least one thing was certain. She needed to get away from Jaral as fast as she could and never look back. Desiring him had been a slip, one she might have continued had he been a nameless soldier, but this was too much. Abaddon was her greatest enemy. She couldn’t have any sort of relationship with his son.
The thought made her pause in her pacing. Jaral was loyal to his father and smart enough to survive a brutal, dangerous world. What if he had seen her desire as one more way to bend her to his will? He was a prince, after all. He didn’t need her.
Pain stabbed through her, startling her with its intensity. Jaral was a clever man. He could easily have been using her lust against her. It was a good plan. Turn her head with seduction and move her around the chessboard as he played out whatever his true purpose in her world was. His perfect human toy.
She forced herself to face the facts, despite the unexpected pain they inspired. Jaral was never to be trusted. Not even his kiss. The most spectacular embraces of her life were no doubt ordinary for an immortal prince. The lust in his eyes could have been artifice. What soldier, especially one of his caliber, would waste his time on seduction when there was work to be done? She knew the answer all too well. Jaral wasn’t the kind of man to be distracted by her meager offerings. That left only one option.
He’d been playing her.
“I need to get out of here,” she said aloud, taking comfort from the sound of her own voice. She’d been enough of a fool over the demon already. She wouldn’t make the mistake of allowing ridiculous feelings to overcome common sense.
It was time to break up this mockery of a partnership. Jaral had given her an unbelievable advantage when he’d healed her. His magic wouldn’t work on her and for a time, at least, she was immune to his flames. That meant she was the one hunter in the area able to take risks that would get anyone else killed. It came down to her. She needed to find out how to get Kerilyn’s blood and close the rift without Jaral. Hopefully she could finish everything before her magical protection wore off.
Darcy felt a little ill at the thought of what he’d do to her when she was vulnerable once more. Having one of the most powerful demons in history gunning for her was a frightening prospect.
She pushed aside the dark thought. The life of one hunter was a small price to pay for saving humanity. But first things first. She needed to get out of this hotel without him.
Glancing around the room, she spotted her bag abandoned in the corner. Had he searched through its contents? she wondered as she moved closer. If so, how thorough had he been?
She grabbed the bag and carefully emptied it onto the bedspread. Her weapons were gon
e but her cell and other odds and ends tumbled onto the blue comforter. When she saw her glasses case fall out of the bag, however, a smile curved her lips. She had perfect vision, always had.
Flipping the case open, she looked down at the small colorful vials hidden inside. She might not be a witch but every hunter knew how to use potions when they had to. Darcy selected a dark blue vial and held it up to the light. The shimmering potion was a powerful sleeping draught. Any skin contact and the victim would be down for the count. She’d used it once on a particularly troublesome demon, but never on someone as strong as Jaral.
“One shot,” she whispered. If this didn’t work she was sunk.
Footsteps sounded in the hall, signaling that whatever spell Jaral had cast was gone. Darcy stuffed everything back into her bag before hiding the vial in her pocket. She’d just lurched to her feet when the door opened.
Jaral entered, looking a far cry from the lustful man she’d tangled with earlier. Shadows filled his eyes and his face was carefully devoid of any revealing emotion. What had happened?
“How’d your secret meeting go, Your Highness?” she asked, purposefully baiting him in hopes of seeing some life back in his eyes.
For a moment he was silent before his lips curved in a ghost of a smile. “Good, all things considered. I have a new job for you.”
She crossed her arms, trying to hide her nerves. “Why am I not surprised?”
“We need to find a girl named Sarah Cohen. She’s the last of the Whitney line.”
“And her blood will close the rift,” Darcy said, trying to mask her disgust.
Something flashed in Jaral’s eyes but it was gone too quickly for her to name. “Hunters protect their own. You will be able to find this girl quicker than I.”
“Score one for Team Human.”
“I’ve never denied you have your uses,” he replied, his gaze running down her body.
And there is was. All he had to do was look at her with lust and her body was more than ready to play. Darcy gritted her teeth at the unnerving feeling. How could she know the truth about who he was and still want him this badly? Even now their last kiss played through her mind on repeat. Her body didn’t care that he might have ulterior motives for touching her. All it wanted was satisfaction.
Then again, she did need to get close to him. She hesitated, butterflies in her stomach. Playing with a demon had been one thing, messing with the son of Abaddon was another. This was not a man she wanted to tangle with.
Seeing the heat in his gaze, however, went a long way to calming her nerves. If he could use her desire against her, surely she could do the same to him. Fair was fair.
“You haven’t seen half my skills, demon,” she purred, moving around the corner of the bed. She kept an easy smile on her face and prayed her eyes didn’t give her away.
Jaral made no move to come closer, letting her come to him. There was no mistaking the interest that banished the hollow, blank look he’d worn when he entered.
“I’d love to see a demonstration.”
She grinned at his words. “I’m sure I can come up with something that surprises you,” she assured him, conscious of the potion in her pocket.
“Does this mean you trust me?”
Darcy stopped just short of arm’s reach. “Your father is the king of demons,” she said. “I will never trust you.”
He watched her with his dark, unreadable expression for a long moment before reaching out and pulling her into his arms. “We are more than our blood,” he told her.
She looked up at him and wished, not for the first time, that his words were true. That they were more than simply a hunter and her prey. A demon and his toy. If he’d been human, nothing would have kept her away from him.
But he wasn’t. He was dangerous and sly. Never to be believed.
“If I asked,” she whispered, “would you tell me everything you and your father discussed?”
His silence was damning enough.
“Some people might be more than their genetics, but not us.” She lifted a hand to his cheek, marveling at his perfection when she knew what sort of creature lurked beneath the beautiful surface. “We weren’t made to trust.”
“Opposite sides.” He sighed.
She nodded, wishing there was any other way.
“Let’s just find this kid and then take it from there,” he offered. “Put our differences aside until then.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she lied.
“Then we should get going.”
“Soon.” Darcy stood up on her tiptoes and even then she didn’t match his height. “Kiss me first.”
Instead of taking her up on her offer, Jaral simply studied her.
Panic sliced through her. Had she overplayed her hand? Maybe she should take her chances and dump the potion on him here and now, to hell with a distraction.
But if she was going to go rogue, she wanted one last taste of her forbidden enemy.
“Why?” he asked.
A thousand lies leaped to her tongue. Any one of them would appease him without leaving herself vulnerable, but when she opened her mouth, she found herself speaking the truth. “Because you are too bloody addicting for my own good. I want you and I hate you for it.”
A wry grin split his face. “Hunter, I think we agree on something.”
His mouth captured hers before she could comment. Darcy closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his lips on her for just a moment. When they touched everything else fell away. Their problems, their loyalties, didn’t matter. The only important fact was how perfectly they fit together. It was horribly unfair of the universe to finally send the one man for her, only to make him her enemy.
She parted her lips under his to deepen their kiss. One hand dived into his hair while the other palmed the vial from her pocket. Darcy kissed him with new desperation as she twined her arms around his shoulders. Her thumb rested against the vial’s stopper. She could pour the potion on him so easily.
Except her heart clenched at the thought of betraying him this thoroughly. She knew she should be concerned about the vengeance he’d wreak when he caught up to her but right now, with his hands on her body, she didn’t want to disappoint him in any way. A ridiculous notion for a hunter.
His hand drifted to her lower back as he pressed closer. “More,” he breathed against her lips.
“Yes,” she agreed, knowing they had two very different ideas about how this embrace would end.
He kissed her hard and she melted against him. Her thumb popped the lid on the vial yet still she hesitated. Once she did this, no man would ever kiss her with such desperation again.
“My hunter,” he whispered.
Pain lanced through her. “Never,” she replied softly and tipped the vial.
He jerked back from her as the cold potion splashed over his neck.
“What did you do?” he growled.
Darcy dropped the vial, careful not to get any of the mixture on her skin, and stepped back. “What I had to.”
He took a step toward her and stumbled.
Darcy backed away. The one and only time she’d used this potion before, the effects had been instantaneous.
Jaral made it all the way to the bed before his knees buckled. He fell hard and Darcy winced at the crash. One hand clawed the blankets of the bed as he tried to right himself.
Darcy crouched down to his level, careful to stay out of arm’s reach.
“Will find you,” he vowed, rage filling his expression.
She smiled sadly. “I know.”
“Why?” Black claws stretched from his fingernails as he tore the carpet beneath him.
“Because I don’t work with demons,” she said. “I will close the rift and then you can come at me with everything you have, okay? But I have to do this first.”
“Darcy…”
“Sleep,” she breathed. “Sleep.”
She could see him fighting the spell but the potion was far stronger. With a last accusin
g glare at her, he dropped to the ground.
Darcy waited a moment to make sure he really was down for the count before grabbing her bag from the bed and racing from the bedroom. She scooped up her files from the living room and ran for the door, her cell already in her hand.
“Darcy?” Cailin asked when she picked up.
“I need an escape,” Darcy said without preamble. She skidded to a halt before the elevator and punched the button. “Jaral took me to a hotel. I—”
“You’re at the Rex. I’m waiting outside.”
“What?”
“You didn’t think I’d get worried when you vanished without a trace? I’ve been driving around for hours looking for you.”
“How did you find me?”
She heard Cailin sigh. “You know how weak my magic is. I did what I could but I couldn’t zero in on your location until just a little while ago. Something changed.”
“I was unconscious,” Darcy offered. The elevator doors opened before her and she jumped in.
“That would do it,” Cailin said, sounding a little bitter. “My magic isn’t strong enough to find you if you were out cold. My parents could have done it but it’s all hands on deck down at the docks. Blake and I have been looking for you but there was no one else to spare.”
“I’ll be down in a few minutes if you can be waiting outside the lobby,” she said, watching the numbers decrease above the doors.
“I’ll be there. And be careful. Demon hotel and all.”
The doors opened and Darcy stepped out into an ornate lobby. Several demons stood behind the reception desk running the length of one wall. Guests milled about the center of the room, seemingly unaware of her presence.
“Hell,” she whispered into the phone. Far too many demons to take on by herself.
“Just walk straight. As far as I can tell, the Rex is a conflict-free zone. No one should trouble you,” Cailin said in her ear.
“Right.” Darcy strode forward, ignoring the demons around her. Though she felt every eye in the place on her, no one approached. She was nearly at the doors when the hair on the back of her neck stood up.
Glancing to her right, she saw a man walk into the lobby. He was tall, imposing, and beautiful with wavy dark hair, but what struck her most was his resemblance to Jaral.
Demon by My Side Page 8
