Releasing the Hunter (Harlequin Nocturne)

by Anna, Vivi

  “Fifty-five Fourth Street.”

  “That’s what it says.”

  “That’s downtown. Do you have a map?”

  “Better.” Ronan reached into his pack and pulled out his iPhone.

  She shook her head in disbelief.

  “What? Don’t you have one? I can get all kinds of info on here. Maps and internet, voice dialing, even Facebook.” He grinned at that last one.

  “Just look up the address, please.”

  He tapped the screen what seemed like a hundred times. His face paled after a few minutes. He looked up at Ivy. “We might have a problem.”

  “What?”

  He handed her the phone. She looked down at the information displayed on the screen. She sighed. “You have got to be kidding. Is she serious with this info?”

  Ronan leaned back in the worn chair at the table. “She’s never given me bad information before. I trust it.”

  “It’s the Marriott Marquis, Ronan. How are we supposed to get in there and trap a demon without injuring thousands of people?”

  “Carefully?”

  “Not to mention having the cops involved. If we start a scene, and you know there will be one, they’ll be called in for sure.”

  “I don’t know, but this is good intel. We can’t let it go to waste. We might not get another chance at this one.”

  She sighed, then ran a hand over her face. He was right. They may never get another chance to find Sallos. She’d worked months to get the one tip on him for the club. The odds were if they didn’t act now, Sallos would kill again, maybe more than once, before she could catch him.

  “Do you have a plan?” she asked Ronan between clenched teeth. She hated deferring to someone else for answers. She was used to relying on herself to have a good plan of action.

  “The most logical thing to do is to check in and snoop around.”

  “There are over a thousand rooms in the hotel. Even if we both dressed up as cleaning staff we’d never be able to search all those rooms.”

  “We won’t have to. Sallos is all about the chase. He’ll be out and about on the prowl. There are a few bars in the hotel. He’ll be staking out one, if not more, for his next victim.”

  She nodded, then handed the phone back to him. “You’re right.” She ran her hands over her pants, then stood. She glanced at her watch. “It’s four a.m. We can’t check in until what? Three in the afternoon?”

  “Four.”

  “That gives us some time to prepare.”

  Ronan nodded. “Yeah, and find something else to wear. We can’t go into a posh hotel like the Marriott wearing stained denim and leather.”

  “My place is likely destroyed, plus I imagine it’ll still be swarming with police.”

  “Then I suggest shopping.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out four credit cards. He tossed them onto the bed.

  Ivy reached down and plucked one. She read it. “Alex Irvine?”

  He nodded. “Yup. I’m also Peter Jacobs, Brian Frost and my personal favorite, Harry Ennis.”

  She groaned, but couldn’t stop her lips from twitching upwards. “If you tell me that the middle initial is P, I’m going to smack you really hard.”

  “Nah, I didn’t go that far.” He laughed. “But they each have about a five grand limit, so I’m sure we can buy you something hot to wear.”

  She glared at him. “I will not be wearing something hot, thank you very much.”

  “Why not? You could definitely pull it off.”

  She didn’t like that gleam in his eye again. It was the second time she’d seen it in the past few hours. The first time had been in the bathroom when he came across her showering. The cambion had another think coming if he thought there was going to be anything sexual between them.

  They were working together. Work and sex didn’t mix.

  And why was she even thinking about that anyway? It was more than just a work thing. It was a demon blood thing. Just because the man was devastatingly good-looking with wide, powerful shoulders and a smile that could disarm a nuclear weapon didn’t mean she was in any way thinking about having sex with him.

  She cocked her hip and pinned him with a look she hoped came across angry and not sexually frustrated. “Do I seriously have to go over the rules of our limited partnership again?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Just messing with you, boss. I know that there couldn’t possibly be a sexual being under all that steel and ice.”

  She gaped at him. But he never gave her a chance to respond before he was bouncing on the bed, stuffing the pillow behind his head and closing his eyes.

  “Since we have some time to kill, I’m going to catch a few more hours of sleep.”

  She glared down at him, but he was impervious to it. After another minute, he was snoring soundly.

  Angry, she stared at him some more, willing him to wake up and fight with her. That way, maybe she wouldn’t be so aware of the muscle tick at his strong jawline and the urge she had to trace a fingertip over it to smooth it away.

  She turned around on her heel and paced the room. She’d gone too long without a man in her life. Her libido was flaring up like a bad rash. She thought it ridiculous that just having this man stretched out on the bed in front of her, his long legs spread a little, with his deep breathing and his tantalizing male scent in her nostrils was enough to have her heart racing and her gut swirling.

  Clenching her hand into a fist, she rubbed it down her leg. She had to get it together. There was no time for distractions. Especially tall, dark and extremely dangerous ones like Ronan. If she wanted to catch Sallos and send him back to hell she had to concentrate on doing just that. And not on fantasizing about the cambion in the bed in front of her.

  She also needed more sleep. She was running on barely three hours and had to get some more if she was to be fully functional later when they would have to battle a Great Duke of Hell.

  She turned and looked at the bed again. Ronan had the right idea. It irked her that he could turn it off just like that though. Close his eyes and be out instantaneously. Ivy’s brain just didn’t work like that. She was constantly thinking, constantly worrying. Constantly on the lookout for the next big thing to sneak up behind her and bite her on her ass.

  She sat down on the bed, then lay back. She had to shove Ronan over a bit so she could fit comfortably. Her elbow did nothing to move him. Then he just mumbled and turned over onto his side. It made enough room for her to sleep.

  She tucked a hand behind her head and closed her eyes. She willed herself to sleep. And not to think about two hundred pounds of pure masculinity lying next to her and how it would feel if he rolled right on over top of her and pinned her to the mattress with the sure power of his massive frame.

  She imagined he would nudge her legs apart with his knee and settle in between her thighs. She would feel the hard length of him nestled against her groin. She’d be eager for him, open for him, wet for him....

  Cursing, she sat up, got off the bed and went to sit in the chair. She slid down and put her feet up on the table. She’d slept in worse places.

  * * *

  Ronan opened his eyes. He stared at the hotel wall. He didn’t dare turn around to see if Ivy was sleeping or not. It had taken all he had not to grin when she’d glared down at him earlier. He’d faked falling asleep. He was sure his snores sounded authentic. But he’d been wide-awake the whole time. Awake and aware.

  Especially when she’d plopped down beside him on the bed. He’d been vividly aware of her then.

  Her scent had tickled his senses. His gut had clenched, as had his hands. They’d wanted to reach over and touch her. Especially now that he’d seen her in the shower. After seeing parts of her incredible body through the tears in the shower curtain, he could think of no
thing else but touching her. To see if she was as strong and hard as she looked. If her soft parts were as silky as he imagined they would be.

  He wanted to see if she would yield under his caresses or fight him all the way. Either one would’ve been fine with him. Just as long as he could have her hard and fast.

  He’d been warned that she was difficult to work with, impossible to deal with and a massive pain in the ass. He’d experienced all that firsthand. Despite all of that, though, he wanted her. He wanted to melt that icy exterior of hers. To prove that there was an actual feeling woman underneath all that prickly armor and attitude.

  He loved a challenge. He’d been dealt one right after another his whole life. He’d survived being infected with demon blood. He could survive and would even flourish under the reign of one Ivy Strom.

  So he closed his eyes once more and calmed his mind. He’d need another good five hours of sleep before he could even fathom dealing with her again.

  Chapter 8

  After rushing around town shopping and doing damage control on Ivy’s safe house—it had been burned down to the ground and they couldn’t get to the safe in the backyard—Ronan and Ivy checked into the San Francisco Marriott Marquis.

  The pretty hotel clerk handed Ronan back his credit card. “Thank you, Mr. Ennis, we have you checked into one of our executive suites for one night.”

  Ivy rolled her eyes at him as he grinned at the clerk. “Thank you, Holly.”

  “My pleasure.” Holly batted her eyes at him. “Do you need help with your bags?”

  “No, thank you. My wife likes to handle that.” Leaning on the counter, he smiled at Ivy. “Don’t you, darling?”

  It took all she had not to bop Ronan in the mouth. Instead she gave him a tight smile and rolled both bags. Without waiting for him, she started for the bank of elevators.

  She couldn’t believe she let him talk her into posing as a couple, but it made sense and would help them keep a low profile until they found Sallos and trapped him so they could interrogate him. She’d even agreed to tone down her usual harsh exterior.

  When they went shopping she bought a pantsuit in cream and three-inch heels in gold. She was wearing the outfit now and it wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d first thought it would be. The silky material of the trousers actually felt nice on her skin, luxurious even. And the heels, well she kind of liked them. Made her legs feel more powerful. They did amazing things to her calf muscles. She also bought a cocktail dress for later at Ronan’s encouraging. They were going to be going up to The View Lounge tonight on reconnaissance.

  Ronan caught up to her at the elevators just as one chimed and its doors opened. Some people streamed out, and Ivy and Ronan went in alone. Ronan pressed the button for the fifteenth floor.

  “Do you really have to flirt with every woman we come across?” She’d meant to joke with him, but even she could hear the slight bitterness in her voice. She coughed into her hand afterward to cover it, but by the glint in Ronan’s eye he’d heard it loud and clear.

  “Are you jealous?”

  She snorted. “Not likely. It’s just bothersome, especially since we should be playing it under the wire. Do we really want people to notice us?”

  “It never hurts to be charming to people. When the shit hits the fan and bad stuff happens, do you really think that pretty young thing at the counter is going to tell the cops about the seductively attractive man she flirted with at the counter? Or would she be more inclined to mention the quiet shifty-eyed steely couple that checked in mere hours before everything went down?”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Just because I can see your point doesn’t mean you are right.”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  The doors opened; Ronan grabbed his bag and walked out. Ivy followed him. They walked in silence down to their room. Thankfully, they didn’t run into anyone who would force them to play the happy married couple.

  Ronan slid the key card into the lock, the little green light blinked on and he opened the door for her. She went in, pulling her black compact luggage behind her.

  The room was big and elegant. It looked like how she would have imagined an executive suite. Clean, angled, everything in its place, with gold pillows on the modest sofa and a dark wooden desk along one wall. But it was a really nice room and she smiled.

  It wasn’t every day that she got to stay in a decent hotel. Most of the time, she stayed in run-down dirt-bag motels along long lonely highways. So although she was on the job and had to work with Ronan, she was going to enjoy this small luxury just for a little while.

  She nodded at Ronan. “Nice room.”

  He rolled his luggage into the open bedroom area, setting it beside the king-size bed. He sat on the edge and bounced on the mattress. “Nice and firm.” He gave her a wide cheesy grin.

  “You’re sleeping on this here sofa.”

  “The hell I am.” He stood and walked over to her. “We’ll flip for the bed.” He dug into his pants pocket and came away with a quarter. “Heads I get the bed, tails you do.” He flipped it off his thumb, caught it in his palm and slapped it on the back of his other hand. He showed the coin.

  It was heads.

  “I win.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t agree to play.” Giving him her back, she wandered into the huge bathroom. There was a jetted tub. She smiled and ran a finger along the porcelain. God, she’d love a long hot soak in the tub.

  “We should probably go over the plan,” Ronan said from the other room.

  With a heavy sigh, Ivy returned to the living room and sat on the sofa. “Where do you want to start?”

  After an hour, they had hammered out a reasonable strategy. It was a decent one considering their circumstances. Ronan had smarts. She liked how he thought. He was almost as diabolical as she was. Almost.

  Afterwards, she changed clothes into something unassuming—jeans, T-shirt, runners and a ball cap—and told Ronan she was going to get a lay of the hotel and figure out their exit strategy if everything went wrong. Which, considering the circumstances, was an acute possibility.

  She scoped out the lobby and the main restaurant. She also took an elevator ride up to the thirty-ninth floor to check out The View Lounge. There weren’t too many people at the bar or at the tables near the floor-to-ceiling windows. But she suspected that would change in a few hours. The concierge in the lobby told her it was usually packed by ten.

  She did a quick scan of the place, took in the security detail at the door, where the main bar was situated, where the exit was and how the long the bank of windows stretched along the lounge. Even from where she stood, the view of the city below was spectacular. She looked over the particular clientele already seated and drinking and knew that Sallos wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of finding his next victim here. Most of his past victims had been young women known to drink and party, so hitting an upscale place like this with older, wealthier women would be something the demon would just have to sample.

  Once she was satisfied with her reconnaissance, Ivy returned to the hotel room. When she entered, Ronan was sitting on the sofa, sharpening one of his many blades. The scene brought back memories of hunting with her brother Quinn and all the times they’d shared this together. The prehunting stage. Gearing up for the big one. A time they both knew could be their last.

  Pushing thoughts of her brother from her mind, she came in, took off her cap, tossed it on the table and ran a hand through her hair. “There are two exits from the lounge. One to the elevators and another to the stairwell. And there appears to be one security guard near the front entrance.”

  “We could position weapons at various points on different floors,” he replied. “In the event of trouble, we can subdue the guard, then take the stairs. You exit out on the thirtieth floor and I could come ou
t on the twentieth. We rendezvous down at street level by the truck.”

  She nodded. “Sounds good. Smart.”

  “Yeah, who knew I was good-looking and intelligent?”

  She shook her head but ended up smiling. He had an infectious way about him. He was either making her angry or making her laugh. Both stirred up unwanted feelings.

  There was a knock on the door.

  Ivy swung around toward it, hands up, ready to fight.

  Ronan stood. “I ordered room service. I thought we both could eat something substantial.” He opened the door. The attendant wheeled in a tray of steaming hot food. He nodded to Ivy and Ronan, then left after Ronan tipped him ten bucks.

  Ivy lifted up the lids on the plates. The incredible smell of steak and potatoes wafted to her nose. She smiled.

  “After watching you scarf down that burger and fries the other night, I thought maybe you could use a nice thick juicy steak.”

  “You thought right.” She reached down and plucked a piece of steamed broccoli from the plate.

  “I also drew you a bath.” He took the lid off the other plate and leaned down to inhale the rich delectable smells.

  “You did what?”

  “Drew you a bath. I found some bath salts, as well. I put them in.” He shrugged. “Smells good.”

  She pushed open the bathroom door and walked in. The scent of vanilla came to her nose on a puff of steam and she smiled. She glanced over her shoulder at Ronan, who was watching her.

  “The water’s still hot.”

  He wriggled his fingers. “One of the many tricks I inherited with the demon blood.”

  “Oh.” She cleared her throat. It was suddenly feeling dry from emotions that had no business showing up. “Why did you do this?”

  “I thought you needed it. Thought you’d like it.”

  She studied him for a few more seconds then said, “Thanks.” She nodded to the food tray. “Don’t eat my steak.”

  “I won’t.” His lips lifted into a smile.

  She went into the bathroom, closed the door and leaned against it. The cambion was turning out to be far more complicated than she’d first thought, and she was sure that was going to become a huge problem in the future.