The Gathering

by Jennifer Ashley

  Leda crashed against the bed, gasping for breath. Hunter came down to her again, driving into her—one thrust, two, three, and then he came. He shuddered as the climax ripped through him, and then he collapsed onto Leda, his warm mouth dropping kisses to her flesh.

  What happened after that, Leda wasn’t sure, because a wave of sleep hit her. When she woke, the sun had moved, and Hunter lay under the sheets beside her, his head pillowed on his arm, his eyes closed.

  Leda drew a breath, and knew for certain the death magic was gone.

  The darkness that had lurked inside her since she’d summoned the groth demon a year ago had vanished, along with the compulsion to go back to him. After the Coven of Light members told her there was no hope to save her husband, she’d turned to death magic in desperation. It had worked. The groth demon had infused her with his death magic, eager to taste her, and Leda had become lost to it.

  And now Hunter, with a lopsided smile and warm eyes, had taken the darkness away.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Hunter didn’t stir. He was asleep, a little snore leaking from the corner of his mouth.

  Leda lay in the sunshine with him, not quite believing what had happened, but basking in the peace of the light. She drank in the afternoon’s warmth, the quietness of Hunter sleeping beside her, and her body relaxed in afterglow, clean once more.

  She hadn’t felt so safe in a long time. She wondered if Hunter had been serious about keeping her here, protected, and whether that meant he wanted to stay or move on but leave his magic to guard her.

  At the moment, Leda couldn’t worry about what he’d do—couldn’t worry about anything. She would simply enjoy him while she had him.

  Leda enjoyed it so much she almost missed the sound outside the window, the pad of feet, the strong but quiet huff of breath.

  Startled, she sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes. Hunter didn’t stir. He slept on, a beautiful fallen god, his large hand spread on the cover beside him.

  Leda swung her legs out of the bed, stood up, and went softly to the window. She was in time to see a large, tawny body turn from the house and begin loping toward the cliff path. Her eyes widened as the lion bounded from rock to rock, disappearing into the lush undergrowth.

  Real life rushed back to her. She wasn’t being paid by the Institute to make love all day to a sexy Adonis, but to rehabilitate animals and keep them safe.

  She leaned out the open window. “Mukasa!” she shouted.

  If the lion heard or understood her, he ignored her. She saw him moving higher, brown body weaving in and out of the mass of black rocks.

  Hunter’s warmth closed behind her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Mukasa’s gone up the cliff path.” Leda broke away from him, reaching for her clothes. “I have to get him back.”

  “He’s a cat,” Hunter said. He stood casually, naked and unashamed, a half smile on his face. “He’s more surefooted than you or I will ever be. We’ll run after him and fall off the cliff, and he’ll stand there laughing at us.”

  “But he’s hurt, and he’s loose, and he’s my responsibility. If something happens to that lion, it’s my job, my grant money, my reputation—gone.”

  Hunter watched as she scrambled around snatching up her shorts and shirt, searching, searching for a bra and giving up.

  “You could help me,” Leda said, pulling up her shorts.

  Hunter shrugged. “He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

  “If he doesn’t fall into a crevice or the lake up there. It’s deep.”

  Hunter stepped in front of her, stopping her frantic movements. “If it’s that important, we’ll go after him.” His body was warm, solid, hard—he’d never let anything hurt her. He cupped her cheek with one hand. “You’re welcome.”

  She swallowed. “The death magic is gone. How did you do that?”

  Hunter ran his thumb across her cheekbone. “Nothing complicated. Once you opened up all the way to me, I could reach in and pull the darkness out. If you’d kept even one bit closed to me, I couldn’t have done it and might have hurt you.”

  Leda’s eyes widened. “You didn’t tell me that.”

  Another shrug. “I didn’t want you to worry.” He released her, moving away to find his jeans, his body distracting her. “Let’s go find Mukasa. He’s waiting for us.”

  In spite of Leda’s concern over Mukasa, Hunter saw that her step was lighter, her magic clean and darkness-free. It had been a relatively easy job to strip the death magic from her—much easier than hiding the entire island from whatever demon stalked them. An Old One, something powerful, something Hunter hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

  Taking away the death magic been easy because, although Leda’s heart had been tainted, the magic had not turned her evil. She’d carried it like a vessel might carry water, filled with it but unchanged itself.

  Hunter’s relief when he’d realized that had been immense. If Leda had been permeated with the death magic, as evil as the demon who’d used her, Hunter would have had to kill her.

  Which would have been a shame. Leda was a beautiful woman. He watched her walk ahead of him, enjoying the sway of her firm back, the tight muscles of her athletic legs. Her body was made to be under his—he could make love to her for hours. No, for days.

  He’d have to build up her stamina to take him that long, and damn, wouldn’t he have fun doing it? Forget the outside world and whatever was happening. Hunter would keep Leda here with him to ride out her life, making sure she was safe from harm for the next however many years. The groth demon could go screw himself. Hunter would leave the island long enough to find and kill him, then he’d be back to stay with Leda as long as he could.

  The sound of an engine in the clear sky made him grimace. A twin-engine plane, not a helicopter, dropped toward the landing strip, but he assumed it was Douglas returning to check on Leda.

  Hunter contemplated shielding against the plane, letting the man circle in frustration until he had to head back to the mainland. Leda, on the other hand, started to jog eagerly toward the airstrip, happy to see her friend, and Hunter silently lowered the hiding spell and the wards to let it land.

  The plane touched down on the tiny runway down the beach then turned and taxied to a stop. The props slowed, dying into a quiet whirring before halting altogether.

  It wasn’t Ronald Douglas who opened the door and hopped to the ground—it was a woman. A lithe and slim woman, dark-haired and long-legged. Hunter felt the sticky darkness of the woman’s aura, and he sucked in his breath.

  “Leda, stop!”

  Leda ignored him and kept going. “It’s Samantha Taylor, isn’t it?” she called to the woman. “What are you doing out here?”

  Hunter didn’t wait for the answer. He stepped quickly back to the house, grabbed his sword and slid it from its sheath, then made for the airstrip.

  He met the two women as they were walking back toward the house. Hunter waited for them on the pristine sands of the beach then stopped the dark-haired woman with his sword point at her chest.

  “If you get back in your plane right now,” he said, “I might let you leave without killing you. Otherwise . . . “ He left it hanging, pinning her with a gaze she couldn’t shake.

  “Hunter, what are you doing?” Leda asked in surprise. “This is Lieutenant Samantha Taylor. I know her—she’s with the paranormal police in L.A. We met on one of her cases a few years ago, before I quit the Coven of Light.”

  Hunter looked Samantha over without answering. He saw what Leda saw, a young woman in her twenties with a trim body and dark hair cut straight at her shoulders. What Hunter could see and Leda did not was the taint of death magic surrounding Samantha, and the shimmer of her form that told him she wasn’t completely human.

  Samantha returned his gaze defiantly, but Hunter read the fear in her eyes. She wasn’t certain exactly what Hunter was, but knew he could tell what she was.

  “Demon,” Hunter said.

&n
bsp; Leda’s lips parted, her surprise increasing. She hadn’t known. Samantha’s aura was faint, likely hidden to most people, even witches as powerful as Leda. But to Hunter, an Immortal who’d been demon hunting most of his life, her essence screamed itself to him.

  “Half demon,” Samantha answered quickly. “My mother is as human as Leda. But I’m not sure what you are.”

  Leda was still staring at her in shock. “You never mentioned this.” She sounded hurt.

  Samantha shot her an apologetic look. “I thought you knew and were being discreet. Why do you think I’m so good at tracking down and arresting demons?”

  “That’s true,” Leda said to Hunter. “Samantha asked the Coven to help her find a particularly nasty demon who’d gone on a killing spree a few years ago. He was very strong, but we finally caught and bound him. We never could have contained him without Samantha.”

  Hunter hadn’t moved the sword. “What do you want here?” he growled at Samantha. “Come to bind another demon?”

  “To ask for help finding my mother.” Samantha glanced at Leda again, her demon eyes worried. “She’s disappeared. I went to the Coven of Light and told them I needed a witch who knew about wielding death magic. They sent me to you.”

  Chapter Six

  Leda saw Hunter flick his gaze over Samantha again, reassessing her, but he didn’t lower his sword. He was ready to kill her, and Leda knew she couldn’t stop him if he decided to go for it.

  She’d only half believed Hunter when he said he was the most dangerous being she’d ever meet. With his lazy smile and wicked eyes, and the way Mukasa and Taro had taken to him, she could ignore the fact that he had overpowering magic.

  He’d been incredibly gentle with her and the animals, and he hadn’t killed Valdez’ men when they’d come for Mukasa, as nasty as they’d been. He’d toyed with them and sent them off to be caught, but he hadn’t hurt them.

  But they’d been human. Not demon. The man who faced Samantha was no longer the laughing, teasing bad boy. He was the Immortal warrior with coldness in his eyes, a killer.

  Taking a breath, Leda deliberately stepped between him and Samantha, facing Hunter and that deadly sword point. “Whatever she is, Samantha is my friend. I’ll vouch for her.”

  “She’s a demon, Leda,” Hunter said, not moving. “They can glam better than vampires. She wants you to feel sorry for her.”

  Behind Leda, Samantha drew a sharp breath. “If I’d been casting a glam, you’d never have guessed I was a demon. I’d never have let you see my death magic. I’m not hiding anything from you, or Leda.”

  Leda continued to face Hunter, keeping her voice quiet, much as she would with a big cat that didn’t yet trust her. “Let Samantha at least tell us what the problem is.”

  Hunter held Leda’s gaze a long time, the anger she read there ancient and bone cold. His stance was stiff, muscles tight, jaw clenched. He was containing himself, she realized, holding himself back from thrusting Leda aside and killing Samantha without further conversation. He was stopping himself—for Leda.

  Hunter slowly lowered the sword, pointing it at the sands. “Talk,” he said to Samantha.

  Samantha swallowed. “What are you?”

  “An Immortal. Created to kill things like you.”

  Samantha’s eyes, dark and beautiful, widened. Leda wondered whether Samantha resembled her human mother or if she’d chosen to take on the dark attractiveness of demons. Hunter was right about demons using glam spells—they could appear to be incredibly sensual men or women, changing gender as they liked, seducing humans with a touch or glance. She wasn’t certain, though, whether half demons possessed the same power.

  “Immortal?” Samantha repeated. “The Coven of Light is looking for Immortals.”

  No interest flickered on Hunter’s hard face. “How do you know that?”

  “Because when I contacted them for help, they told me to tell Leda that there’s a big hunt on for beings they said were Immortal warriors. Leda is supposed to keep an eye out and report to them.”

  “Did they Call me?” Hunter asked.

  “Summon you, you mean? I guess so. I didn’t get all the details.”

  Hunter still scowled at her, his sword loose in his big hands, but he didn’t answer.

  Leda asked, “Why did the Coven think I could help you with death magic? What is it you need me to do?”

  Samantha finally dragged her gaze from Hunter, though Leda saw her difficulty doing it. “My mother is a witch. A long time ago she summoned a demon—who became my father—so she could tap into his death magic. He melded with her mind, became a part of her. The Coven told me you had done something similar.”

  Leda shuddered as she remembered what it had been to fuse with the groth demon. His death magic had penetrated her like sticky ooze, filling the private spaces of her mind without her permission. It had been akin to rape, but psychic rape, loathsome and terrifying. Leda’s husband had never forgiven her for it, and had walked away from her once he’d been well.

  “I understand,” Leda said softly.

  “The demon did more,” Samantha said. “He stayed with my mother and made her his slave—in all ways—and then she had me. It took her a long time to escape the demon, but she took me with her and raised me on her own. She set up powerful warding to keep my demon father away from her, but I’m afraid he’s found a way to come back for her.”

  Hunter’s voice was deadly quiet. “Why can’t you track down your mother yourself? You’re paranormal police, you say. You must have some link to this demon if he’s your father.”

  Samantha shook her head. “My demon powers aren’t that well developed, one reason I can’t glam you. Neither are my witch powers. I think I inherited the only non-magical genes my parents have. I can do a little magic, but not much. A spell or two, and that’s it. Not enough to find out where the demon has taken my mother, or if she’s even still alive.”

  Her eyes filled with tears, and Leda’s heart softened. She reached for Samantha’s hand. “I’m a damn powerful witch, even if the Coven had a backhanded way of saying that. I can at least try a locator spell. You helped rid the world of a killer once; now I can do this for you.”

  Samantha relaxed a little. “Thank you.”

  They both looked at Hunter. He said nothing, keeping his decisions to himself. At least he wasn’t shoving Leda aside in order to slice Samantha in half.

  Leda believed Samantha, maybe because Samantha had been so competent on their demon hunt years ago, maybe because Leda sensed her true worry about her mother. Leda wasn’t foolish enough to trust blindly, not the least because Samantha hadn’t bothered to mention her half-demon nature, but Leda could give her the benefit of the doubt and be careful at the same time.

  “Let me find my lion,” she said. “And then we’ll talk.”

  Samantha’s eyes widened. “Your lion?”

  “I work for an organization that rescues exotic animals. Except someone convinced me today that the animals needed to roam.” She shot Hunter an annoyed look.

  “Mukasa is fine,” Hunter said, the lines around his mouth still tight. “Out of all of us, he’s the safest right now.”

  “I wish I knew how you knew that.”

  “I just do.”

  Leda looked away, scanning the cliffs again. “Even so, I have to get him back down here. I don’t need him hurting himself.”

  She started along the beach, heading for the cliff paths without further word. Halfway there she found Hunter right behind her, almost stepping on her heels, his sword resting on his shoulder.

  Leda gave him a mock glare. “What, you finally decided to help?”

  Hunter didn’t laugh. “It’s important to you.”

  Leda stopped to wait for Samantha to catch up, then they walked on together, Hunter making Samantha go ahead of him with Leda while he came behind. Taro left his open enclosure and followed them to the base of the cliff path, then prowled the rocks at the bottom while they started to climb
.

  “How many animals do you have out here?” Samantha asked, glancing down at Taro’s mask-like face, turned upward to watch them.

  “Just the two at the moment,” Leda answered. “Taro and Mukasa. That I take care of, anyway. Plenty of tropical birds, snakes, and insects around here as well.”

  Samantha blenched. A city girl, Leda guessed, used to wildlife kept at bay.

  Hunter said nothing. He’d sheathed his sword and strapped the leather scabbard to his back for the climb, the hilt dark above his shoulder. He walked silently behind the two of them, his expression unreadable.

  After about hundred feet of near-vertical climbing, the path leveled out and dropped into a narrow valley filled with lush growth, flowers vibrant and blooming under the May sky. Tall, thick trees lined the valley and water fell from the cliffs above, gouging a trough in the rocks and becoming a rushing stream beside the path. The same stream went all the way down to the beach, forming the little rivulet next to the house.

  The three ducked under the trees, following the stream. This island had two climates tucked into one tiny space—tropical rainforest that was hot and close and the dry beach buffeted by cool winds. Leda preferred the open air of the beach, where her magic was at its height. She was already covered in sweat on this relatively short walk, her shirt clinging to her with an unpleasant stickiness.

  Hunter caught up to Leda, not seeming to notice the heat. Except for the few beads of sweat on his forehead, he looked utterly comfortable.

  “Mukasa is close,” Hunter said. “Don’t worry.”

  He moved ahead of her then stopped after a few yards and pointed through the underbrush. Leda moved quickly and quietly to him, peering under the branch he lifted. Samantha came behind her, making far too much noise, but the lion in the little clearing in front of them didn’t notice.

  Mukasa waited next to the stream, which had widened here to fill a deep pool. The spray of another waterfall from above cooled the air, the clearing scented with water and green, growing things.