The Hunter

Home > Other > The Hunter > Page 5
The Hunter Page 5

by Theresa Meyers


  “Just want to make sure you know whose side I’m on.”

  “Oh, I never doubted that, Hunter.” She forced her breathing to even out by sheer will. There wasn’t much she could do about her racing heartbeat or the stream of totally unwelcome sensual thoughts cascading through her brain. She was the damn succubus. He was supposed to desire her, definitely not the other way around.

  It made her angry that his kiss had elicited such shockingly strong feelings and unwanted emotions, making her breasts ache and skin crave his touch. It made her angry that he’d threatened her the second their kiss had ended. It made her angry that she’d shared something personal with him that she’d shared with none of her other victims.

  And why on earth had she felt compelled to share her name with him, or the fact that she’d been human once before? Had it been because she’d already felt she’d known him? Ha. That was laughable. Being in the flesh against him was totally different than reading about his exploits in the pages of a book. He was bigger and bolder, and far more charming than she’d thought he’d be.

  “So that’s it?” he asked, eyeing her with suspicion.

  “And look, you’re still alive.” Her tone was mocking, but she couldn’t hide the bitter edge of anger there. In all her twenty-five years as a demon, never once had she been affected by the men she seduced. She’d rarely even looked at their faces. All she’d pictured was the look on her father’s face when he’d met his match in Rathe as she took their proffered souls.

  “Having second thoughts about our bargain?” Colt drawled as he looked deeply into her eyes.

  Lilly steeled her spine and deliberately softened her face so he wouldn’t guess at her inner turmoil. How was she to have known he’d have this kind of effect on her? “Are you? Just how many bargains have you struck with demons?”

  “None. But there’s always a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

  The words lashed at her like a bullwhip, the sting of them making her wince. A first and a last time. The truth was she’d been introduced to Hell long before Rathe came along. From the minute she could toddle, her father had exploited her keen mind and unusual looks. She’d been part of nearly every con he played and, thanks to her efforts, they’d managed a dishonest living.

  “True. But it doesn’t mean it always turns out the way you expect,” she said, tipping her chin up a notch.

  She’d grown tired of the charade her mortal life had become, the constant running and the lies. She’d wanted a normal life for her and her sister, maybe even a husband and a family of her own. But the minute she’d suggested that to her father, any ounce of kindness had vanished. He’d threatened her. If she left, he’d turn her younger sister Amelia into a means for profit any way he could. And while Amelia was a delicate beauty in her own right, she didn’t possess half of Lilly’s fire, determination, and cunning. She’d never be able to pull off the cons her father favored, which meant her future was bleak.

  Lilly couldn’t let that happen. She’d kept up the cons until she could find a way out for both herself and her sister. It had tainted her soul and shredded every ounce of decency within her, but she’d done it, by God. And she’d hated her father more by the minute. But it had taught her something valuable—there was always a way out, if you were able to accept the cost.

  The Hunter’s glacier blue gaze bored into her. “If you want me to stick to our bargain, you’d better not double back on your word, demon.”

  She stiffened. “I never forget a promise.”

  Lilly had promised herself that her little sister Amelia would never know the touch of a man until she invited it herself. There’d been only one way Lilly could think to stop her father’s plans. She’d summoned Rathe, and in exchange for the fiend killing her father and sending him to Hell where the bastard belonged, something she couldn’t do herself, the demon had taken her soul.

  It seemed a small price to pay to protect her sister. And until now it had been relatively easy. No emotion. No true impulse. Just doing what she’d always had to do and harvesting their nearly worthless souls in the process for Rathe.

  But Colt Ambrose Jackson had just done the unexpected. He’d made her want to kiss him. He’d made her desire him. Damn him.

  Lilly grabbed hold of the spark of anger bristling beneath her breastbone and nourished it. This Hunter was dangerous to something far more valuable than her soul. There was no time for fleeting fantasy or idealized versions of Legend lore. Colt was a Hunter. She was a demon. The two would never mix, so why did she suddenly yearn for it to happen?

  He held her at arm’s distance, his hands hot against her bare skin, both of them still inside the close quarters of the protective circle in the vast darkness of the night. He didn’t look like a dangerous demon slayer. His sinful good looks, set off by a strong jaw, jet dark hair that curled along his collar, and tempting mouth, were more akin to a gambler—full of promise, but too good to be true.

  His broad shoulders took up most of the room inside the circle, crowding her against the invisible barrier. The smell of his skin, a mix of potent male and the wild outdoors, made her dizzy with longing, and while she couldn’t retreat physically in the confines of the circle, Lilly did her utmost to withdraw emotionally. She refused to give her lust for this mortal the weight to affect who and what she was.

  She glared at his hand on her shoulder. “Touching me wasn’t part of our bargain.”

  He quickly moved his hand and she backed as far away from him as she could. “Release the circle so we can go open this door of yours. Where is it?”

  He pulled at the rim of his Stetson, settling it more firmly on his head. “Dark Rim Mine.”

  Lilly stiffened. The Dark Rim Mine had earned its name. It ran parallel to the rim of one of the gates of Hell. Not that the mortals knew that, but it was a favorite hunting ground for the Darkin, the children of the night. Either Colt was an incredibly skilled Hunter or he was an absolute fool.

  Standing face-to-face with him, her lips still tingling from the kiss he’d given her, Lilly bet he was the former rather than the latter.

  “You have a problem with that?” Colt leaned in close to her again, closing the gap she’d created until there was a mere breath of space between his broad chest and her silk-clad breasts. They tightened and ached, peaking forward, waiting for the graze of his touch. The low and gravelly quality of his voice, a man ultimately aware of a woman, picked out goose bumps over her exposed arms and legs.

  Lilly bit her lip, worrying it between her teeth. “Problem with the Darkin? No.” Problem being with you? Hell yes.

  With his face half in shifting shadow from the firelight, his eyes looked a darker midnight blue. He assessed her every movement with his penetrating gaze, making her aware of just how close they were to one another. Her heart beat faster, picking up speed like a locomotive. She needed to concentrate on gaining his trust and forget about all the odd sensations he was setting off in her.

  “You do realize what’s down there, don’t you, Hunter?”

  His gaze flicked downward for an instant to the juncture of her thighs outlined in the black silk. Down deep inside her everything pulsed and tightened. When he looked back up, his sexy mouth tipped up in the corner in a wicked grin. “I think I have a pretty good idea.” He ran a finger along her jaw, a touch that set off sparks all along her skin. “And the name’s Colt. You might as well get used to sayin’ it, sweetheart.”

  He was right, of course. They’d bypassed any whisper of proper social introduction and gone straight to being on quite intimate terms. Using proper names at this point was moot. Her heart did a double bump deep in her chest. Had he just called her sweetheart? Worse, with only a whisper of space between them, had he felt her reaction to the word? He was far more dangerous than she’d ever imagined. He was going to get her sent to Hell with no reprieve, to be tormented by Rathe for eternity.

  Lilly marshaled whatever resistance she could gather, steeling herself against the sed
uctive sensations he played across her easier than a bar man at a saloon piano.

  “There’s only a thin barrier between the worlds down there. Any one of the Darkin could attack you. We’re not talking just demons. There’s vampires down there that’ll suck you dry to the bone. Creatures made of rock and fire that could crush then crisp you in the blink of an eye, that your bullets won’t even touch. Shape-shifters that’ll get inside your skin and paralyze you, using your body like a suit so you can only see the mayhem you’re creating, but you’ll be unable to stop it as they flay your loved ones alive with your hands and eat the meat in front of your eyes. Are you sure you’re prepared for that?”

  Challenge glinted in his eyes. A raw, primal power radiated off him, which made her question her powers of seduction when matched up against his. His grin lifted just a touch more, as if he’d just read her intimate thoughts. “Nothin’ I can’t handle. Trust me.”

  Lilly turned away, unable to look into his face any longer. Trust. Not likely. She’d never trust another soul as long as she existed, and certainly not a Hunter out to send her back to a tormented eternity. And yet, if he could help her escape Rathe, she had to take the chance.

  “Are you going to let us out of this circle, or are we going to stand here talking all night about what’s waiting for us?” Rathe had given her three weeks. There was no time to waste. She had to gain his confidence, yet she found herself reluctant to get too close to him. He stirred unwelcome sensations in her, sensations that would land her in a heap of trouble. The tip of his nose brushed along her cheek and beneath her ear—a skimming touch that shot straight to her toes and made a warm sensation unfurl deep inside her.

  “You sure don’t smell like sulfur.”

  “Yes, you already mentioned that,” she bit out, irritation lacing her tone.

  Colt suppressed the urge to grin. Good. Let the little demon get a taste of her own medicine. It had only taken him a few minutes to realize the only way to fight fire was with fire. If she wanted to turn on the charm, then so could he, in spades. Hell, he might even be able to consider it a secret weapon in this case. After all, her lips clung to his when they’d kissed. No matter how prickly she seemed, she was attracted to him.

  He stepped back from the radiant silken heat of her curves, his foot crossing the edge of the circle. The invisible barrier slid around him like the warm caress of a sunbeam. Outside the circle, the chill silence of the night was punctuated by calls of coyotes on the hunt and scented with the dirty machine-oil smell of creosote bushes mixed with wood smoke. All that remained of the fire were the blackened husks of the logs and their red glowing hearts.

  Well, he wanted a demon. Now he had one, and she was willing to open the door without taking his soul in payment. That had to count as a point in his favor, didn’t it?

  Through the shimmer of the circle’s barrier she looked damn enticing. Things could have been worse. Way worse. He could have ended up with some ugly sonofabitch with horns, a damned forked tongue, and matching tail. Then again, maybe that would have been a hell of a lot safer than a succubus that looked like every man’s fantasy sheathed in black silk.

  The demon cocked the curve of her hip to one side and crossed her bare arms over her chest, which made her breasts press together in a way that made him hard and damn uncomfortable. “We have an accord. You can’t keep me in here forever if you want me to open that door for you.”

  Colt said a silent prayer that the demon he was about to unleash on the world would go the hell back to where she’d come from willingly so he didn’t have to shoot her when they were done.

  “Here goes nothin’,” he muttered as he glanced at the directions in the book that lay open in the dirt and worked the circle backward, blowing out the candles as he went in the opposite order he’d lit them to open the circle he’d cast. Unfortunately, that brought him pretty damn close to the sweet curve of her derrière pressed against the barrier. He tried his level best to ignore the view as he completed his trek around the circle’s perimeter.

  The shimmering barrier dissipated into nothingness, and Colt put his hand on the smooth wood butt of his revolver. No use taking chances. Not with a demon anyhow. He stepped back and eyed her. “You might want to put on somethin’ decent before we head into Bodie. No use in calling attention to ourselves.”

  The demon—he refused to think of her as Miss Arliss, because that just led to all kinds of fantasies he couldn’t afford to indulge—snapped her dainty fingers and the short black silk sheath vanished, replaced by a high-collared wide-striped emerald green gown, gathered up in the front to knee-length swag, which exposed fishnet stockings. If he’d been a less observant man, he would have fixated entirely on those legs and not even noticed the large bustle and train, or the smart white kid gloves, but being a Hunter meant he was always observant of the details. Her fiery tresses were coiled into some elaborate knot at the base of her slender neck. Atop her head sat a feminine version of a black top hat with a wide green ribbon around it and a variety of green and black feathers clustered at the back. The color of her gown enhanced her exquisite pale skin and made the color of her eyes even more enchanting.

  “Better?”

  Colt cleared his throat. What would have been better was if he’d never seen what lay beneath that gown and had it seared into his brain, but he wasn’t about to suggest she change back. “Ain’t that a little fancy for tramping through an abandoned mine?”

  She picked up the long, bustled train of her gown and swung it around as she turned. “Mmmm. Perhaps you’re right.”

  She snapped her fingers. The fancy green gown and matching hat vanished, replaced by a serviceable stretch of pale blue sprigged calico with a rim of white lace that traced the edge of a square-cut bodice framing an enticing display of female assets. A small blue and white cameo threaded through a wide black velvet ribbon at her throat showed the faint throb of her heartbeat. Colt wanted to put his mouth there. The front of the skirt gathered up about her knees, and she still had those damn stockings on, the line at the back tracing every curve all the way up. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

  “Surely you have no objections to this.”

  Oh, he had objections. By the barrel-full, but that wasn’t going to get him through the hidden door in the Dark Rim Mine, so they were best forgotten. “We’re wasting time.”

  “Then let’s not dilly-dally. Do you wish to walk, or shall I meet you there?”

  As tempting as it was to have her use her powers and get to the mine faster, Colt resisted. There was no telling where she would go if he let her out of his sight. No. It was better to keep a firm hand on the demon while they were partnered up. “Neither. We’ll ride.”

  The demon shrugged. “Suit yourself, Hunter.”

  “Colt.”

  She rolled her unnaturally bright green eyes. “Fine, Mr. Jackson.”

  He doused the fire with the remaining dregs of the coffee he’d made to keep himself alert. It let off a fragrant coffee-scented steam as it hissed and popped against the coals. The minute the light of the fire disappeared, the desert darkness closed in. Colt tightened his grip on his gun as he kicked dirt over the smoldering remains of the fire. The lingering scent of wood smoke persisted. Overhead the stars sparkled like gold dust cast over a swath of black velvet.

  Colt reached out, clasping the demon’s hand in his own. The touch sent an arc of awareness shimmying up his arm. Colt knew enough to tell that it wasn’t some dark demon power, but plain old lust bolting through his system. Her hand felt small, delicate, and distinctly feminine in his much larger one.

  “Watch your step.”

  “For a skilled Hunter, I’m surprised you don’t know that demons have excellent night vision.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, not trusting her as far as he could fling her. “Who says I’m holding your hand to help you out? Maybe I just want to make sure I know exactly where you are.”

  “Don’t trust me, do you?”
>
  “No, ma’am.”

  “Good, because for the record, Colt,” she said his name like an epithet for something far more loathsome, “I don’t trust you either.”

  “Perfect.”

  Her footsteps came to a sudden halt, yanking on his arm with a surprising strength.

  “You’re not making me ride that thing, are you?” He glanced back. Her pert little nose was all scrunched up like something stank to high heaven.

  “That was the plan.”

  She stared hard at the silver eyes of his horse. “But he’s ...”

  “Mechanical. Yeah. He is. Means he’s more reliable.”

  “More like he doesn’t have a mind of his own.”

  Colt had never considered that a downside. Tempus did what he was supposed to when he was supposed to without any attitude, rearing, or crow hops. He didn’t need food or water, just a few squirts of machine oil and a good winding now and then. After his brothers and Marley, Tempus was one of the few things he could rely on in his life.

  “I don’t go anywhere without my horse.”

  “That must make things interesting when you take a woman to bed.”

  “Not what I meant.”

  She shrugged. “I wasn’t arguing, merely observing your statement had other implications.”

  “You always talk so much?”

  “I don’t see why that should matter.”

  He shoved his foot into the stirrup and mounted. “Ready?” She gave a slight squeal of protest as he leaned over, using his forearm to brace hers as he pulled her up behind him. He flipped the GGD switch forward and Tempus rumbled and clicked as the gears and springs began their work.

  The demon hugged him tight around the middle, her sweet breath coming in short little puffs over his shoulder near his ear and her heart beating fast against his back.

  Colt suppressed a grumble. He should have listened to Marley. Given enough time, Marley might have been able to invent something that could open the door just as well as a demon. But time was the only luxury he didn’t have. The crack in the Gates of Nyx was gettin’ bigger by the day. He could feel it in his bones.

 

‹ Prev