When Hunter Meets Seeker: (An Arcane Society Novel - Paranormal Demon Romance)

by Betty Shreffler

  Grendal Demon, Phillip Owens, 15 Lakeside Drive. Contact, cancel and report.

  That’s how the message always was—cold, clear and precise—leaving her feeling like a contracted killer. That’s all she was to them, just a born, bred and fed killer. Her hunting instincts had been embedded into her very DNA. Did she really think turning away from her duty would be that easy? Turn your phone off and not answer anymore? A grendal demon was deadly. They appeared in human form, but could transform into their natural demon form at any time and did right before aggressively devouring a human.

  She owed it to the innocents to at least investigate if this demon was a threat. She went to her closet and opened it. Hanging behind a hidden wall of clothes were her weapons. She grabbed the leather belt that held the heavy-duty, thin, gold wire, used for severing heads of demons. It would slice right through their skin, muscle and bones like a knife through butter. Her leather belt encased it. A pull of what appeared to be a wooden bead on the belt would release twenty-six inches of gold wire in a split second.

  She lifted her shirt over her head and donned the shoulder straps for her gold metal knife. Gold was usually her top choice. It was the most efficient weapon for eliminating a demon. The element was like toxin to their bodies. Once the blade was secured she put her shirt back on and closed the hidden safe.

  She grabbed her keys, locking the door behind her, and quickly typed in the address from the text.

  Anya crept forward with her Jeep, easing the brakes in front of the well-manicured house. She confirmed the house number and pushed the gas pedal forward, driving her Jeep down the street, and parked, waiting for the man in question to leave his home.

  Thirty minutes later, after watching and waiting, listening to quiet music, her phone dinged. A text from Jackson.

  You got an order didn’t you? You’re not coming are you?

  Guilt tickled her belly. She scrunched her face and started to text back. Movement up ahead had her dropping the phone on the passenger seat and starting her engine. A black, sporty sedan pulled out of the driveway with who she assumed to be Phillip Owens. She followed the car, keeping a reasonable and unsuspicious distance. He drove through town, stopping for quick food at a drive-through, and then he headed farther downtown, closer to where she lived. He pulled into a parking garage, so she did too.

  She followed him on foot into the dark streets of downtown Atlanta, among the many people walking to their nightly adventures. The man in question seemed to be on a mission, headed somewhere, and not just casually strolling. When he glanced behind him she played with her phone as she walked, seeming to be a normal person out for the night, texting a friend.

  The man dipped into an alley and she slowed, carefully hugging the corner. She peered down the alley to see him taking a left turn down another street. She sprinted down the alley, and then slowed again, hugging the wall of the next building. The man approached a woman walking toward him on the street. Anya waited, watching the events unfold. The man leaned into her, hugging her against the wall. She seemed to know him, must’ve planned to meet him here.

  A terrible place to meet in her opinion. A mistress perhaps? She watched as he kissed her passionately, slipping a hand up her dress and touching her intimately. The woman egged him on with her moans. A prostitute maybe? Anya couldn’t grasp the exact arrangement of their meeting. Their intent became clearer when the man lifted the woman’s legs, wrapping them around his hips. He reached down, releasing himself from the pants he wore. The woman bounced against the wall as they intimately embraced.

  Anya tilted her head back, staring into the night, listening for the moans and grunts to come to an end. Her stomach coiled at the sounds. She pursed her lips and squeezed her eyes, trying hard not to think about her alcohol-enriched, intimacy-deprived choice to have sex with Dex.

  Thankfully the moans came to an end. Anya moved her head, just enough that one eye could see down the street. The couple were adjusting their clothes, whispers were exchanged and then the transformation happened. The woman let out a shrill scream and Anya leapt into action. She barreled down the street as the man turned to demonic beast, transforming into a taller, more muscular, grotesque demon. His clawed hand slashed at her back as she tried to flee. The woman collapsed as blood spewed onto the street.

  Anya ran at his back, removing the gold metal knife from its holster. She stabbed right into the demon’s ribcage, piercing an organ. He bent over, his clawed and enlarged hand grasping for his chest. The demon turned toward her, drool and fangs threatening to devour her. He swung at her face, and she ducked, pulling the knife with her and then repositioning her stance and plunging it into the front of his chest. Blood poured out of his mouth. She swung her leg forward, knocking him to the ground. He landed with a resounding thud. She pounced on him, straddling him as she plunged the knife into his chest, sending the blade right into his pounding heart. The demon’s body melted into the earth, leaving behind a stench and residue on the ground.

  Anya ran to the woman, who’d been knocked out and lay bleeding on the street. She checked for a pulse before turning her over and attempting to bring her back to consciousness. The woman grumbled and then her body convulsed. The woman turned and vomited. Some of the splatter ricocheted onto Anya’s clothes. Anya grimaced and leaned back, holding the woman’s head up.

  “What happened?” the woman cried out in a squeaky voice.

  “The man you met with attacked you.”

  “That was a monster not a man!” she screeched.

  “It was, but you can’t tell a living soul that or they’ll think you’re insane and lock you up. You need medical attention. Can you walk?”

  Anya assisted the woman in standing. The woman staggered and clung to Anya’s arms. “You need to see a doctor. Do you need me to call you an ambulance?”

  The woman started crying, tears streaking her blood-smeared face. “I…I…don’t know…”

  Anya stroked her hair. “Ssh, it’s all right. You’re in shock and you might have a concussion. I’m going to drive you to a hospital.”

  Anya wrapped an arm around her and helped her down the street to her car. The woman whimpered and cried along the way. A few people stared, but didn’t bother to ask. A situation they obviously didn’t want to become a part of. Anya grabbed a towel out of her backseat and covered her passenger seat with it. She slid the woman, who she’d learned was named Samantha, into the passenger seat.

  Anya drove her to the local emergency room and helped her inside. Once she was stable and filling out forms, Anya reminded her of the importance of keeping her secret and left her in the care of the hospital.

  On the way back to her Jeep, she looked over her clothes covered in vomit, blood and demon juice. There was no way she could meet Jackson now. She slid into the driver’s seat and grabbed her phone. Her first text went to the Arcane Society.

  Contacted and Eliminated. Innocent protected. 10:15 p.m.

  Her next text went to Jackson.

  I’m sorry. Yes, I responded to an order. If I hadn’t, an innocent woman would have died tonight.

  Don’t worry about it. Joe met up with me. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow morning.

  Anya drove home, feeling confused more than ever. Could she really walk away from her duty and leave innocent lives unprotected? How many humans would die because of her choice?

  She got home feeling empty, sad, frustrated. She tossed her clothes into the washer and turned it on before jumping in the shower. Afterwards she ensured every window and her front door was secured and locked. She didn’t need a sexy, devious demon slipping into her house again.

  She slid under the comforter and watched mindless TV as her thoughts bounced around in her brain, leaving a dull ache around her skull. What did she really want to do? If she didn’t walk away from being an Arcane Hunter now, when would she? Would she turn out just like her father? Killed by a demon? The Arcane Society would surely replace her with another hunter. The innocent humans
would be protected still. And why couldn’t she get Dex out of her mind? He wasn’t the first handsome man she’d had a fling with, but he was the most intriguing, sexiest, and arousing of them. She turned her head, burying her face into the pillow. She closed her eyes and drifted off to the sound of cops chasing bad guys.

  At two a.m. she sprung up from her bed, the TV already turned off by its internal timer. She glanced around the room, feeling the presence of something in the darkness. Dex? No, it wasn’t. Whatever it was felt dark, deadly and ominous. She slid her hand under her pillow, reaching for the knife as she leaned over, hitting the light switch. A shadow slipped up the wall and disappeared instantly. The pressure in the air lifted, but her heartbeat continued pounding hard against her chest. She’d never encountered a shadow walker before. Why one had found its way into her home had her terrified. Her throat was tight and her skin crawled with goose bumps. There’d be no sleep the rest of the night. She turned on the TV and all her lights, removing any shadows from her apartment.

  Jackson and the gym would have to wait. Tomorrow morning she would be visiting the Arcane Society.

  Chapter 6

  She pulled into the driveway of an overgrown yard with an aged, red brick Victorian, a cylindrical tower on each side of the face, vines growing up the towers and porch pillars. A gray stone base, a fireplace and roof peak at the top. All windows were closed with white drapes over them as if no one was home, but that was to the uneducated eye. The home, among many, belonged to the Arcane Society. It was one of their branches, nestled just outside of Atlanta in Druid Hills.

  She walked up the stone steps to the black frame front door and gave the door knocker a few taps. Moments later, an older woman answered the door wearing a black suit jacket and matching knee-high skirt. Her curly white hair lying just below her chin.

  “Morning, Rose. How are ya?”

  “Good, thank you for asking, Miss Carlisle.” Rose opened the door wider for her to enter. Anya stepped in and moved to the side, so Rose could quickly close the door behind them. Rose folded her hands in front of her stomach.

  “What brings you in today?”

  “A shadow walker appeared in my home last night. I’d like to know why.”

  Rose tilted her head, surprised by the news.

  “Just a moment, Miss Carlisle. I’ll check and see if Emerson is available to receive you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Rose floated off down the hall. Anya stepped into the waiting room inside the right tower. She poured the lemon-filled ice water into a glass and sat on the Victorian flowered sofa. After a few sips, Rose returned.

  “Emerson will see you now.”

  Anya left the glass on the tray and followed Rose down the hall to a room in the back. She walked into Emerson’s dark, mahogany-colored office with his giant executive desk in the middle of the room. The office was a contrast to the original Victorian style of the home.

  “Have a seat.” He pointed. His usual aloof and authoritative tone seeped from his lips.

  Anya glanced behind her as Rose’s feet quietly shuffled away. She settled into the black leather chair in front of his desk.

  “Problems with last night’s order?” he asked as he leaned back in his chair eyeing her with an emotionless expression. She looked back at his peppered, smooth hair and bright, brown eyes under his silver glasses.

  “Last night a shadow walker came into my apartment. I want to know why. They’re supposed to be neutral. What would bring one into an Arcane Hunter’s home? My home?” she added with a clear level of irritation.

  Emerson shifted forward and returned his attention to his paperwork. “I’ll look into it,” he replied, ignoring the severity of the issue and her concern.

  Anya stood up from the chair, picked up his pretty statue on his desk and slammed it down. Emerson tipped his glasses forward, narrowing his eyes at her in apparent annoyance.

  “I know you and I don’t always see eye to eye, but having a shadow walker creep into your house at two a.m., hovering over you, sucking the air out of the room, is a very disturbing experience. Perhaps you don’t understand the severity because you’re safe in the cozy confines of the house the Arcane Society lets you live in. You don’t have to worry about demons crossing your threshold, I do.”

  He tipped his glasses up the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair. “You know how to kill them. What are you so worried about?”

  Anya clicked her tongue against her cheek. “Why they would be there in the first place?”

  “Like I said, Anya, I’ll look into it. In the meantime, get back to work. I’ll let you know when I find something out.”

  Emerson returned to his paperwork, giving a wave of his hand for her to exit. She turned on her heels, angrier than when she’d arrived. She nodded at Rose as she passed by her office. Rose started to stand, but Anya was past her office and to the door before Rose made it to the doorway. Anya slammed the front door behind her. She apparently wasn’t going to get any answers from her unhelpful handler. There was only one person she could think of that might be able to give her answers and who actually cared about her—Dillon, her old mentor and trainer. She’d make a point to see him the first chance she got.

  Anya drove over to the gym and pulled her gym bag from the backseat of her Jeep. She walked inside, hoping to catch Jackson at the end of his workout. She was surprised by his absence. She walked to the front desk where Kristie, the sweet little redhead, was working.

  “Where’s Jackson? Did he come in today?”

  Kristie shook her head. “Haven’t seen him. I thought you both took a day off. I was shocked when I didn’t see either of you this morning.”

  Anya tapped her fingers on the counter. “Thanks, Kristie.”

  She dropped her bag on the usual bench and pulled her cell from her back pocket.

  Are you sick? Why aren’t you at the gym this morning?

  On my way. I was feeling pretty run down this morning. Out late last night with Joe.

  Anya tapped her phone against her jeans and sighed. Out late last night with Joe and now he was tired. She couldn’t help wondering if he’d gone back to Donatello’s and spent more time with Serena.

  Anya trudged to the locker room and changed into her workout clothes. She came back out as Jackson was strolling into the gym. He had bags under his eyes and showed exhaustion in his sluggish walk.

  “You all right? You look like you’re getting sick.”

  “I think I drank too much last night. I don’t remember most of the night. You know how Joe gets, and I tried to keep up.”

  “Uh-huh. Where all did you guys go?”

  She saw the nerves tighten his face muscles. “Barhopped to a few places.”

  “You went back to Donatello’s, didn’t you?”

  Jackson remained quiet, squirming under the glare of her eyes.

  “You spent more time with Serena, didn’t you?”

  Jackson shrugged. “It’s not a big deal, Awn. I had a few drinks and a good time. It doesn’t hurt to get a little something from an attractive female who’s interested in me.”

  “Interested in you?” she snapped. “She’s only interested in sucking you and your wallet dry. Get a grip, Jackson. You’ve already been pulled into her seduction. You look like a damn zombie walking around.”

  “Look, I didn’t come here to argue with you. I only showed up because I felt bad about ditching you, but if you’re gonna have this attitude all day, I’m out.”

  Jackson started to walk away from her and she grabbed his arm. He pulled his arm from her grasp. “I’ll see ya later. I’m gonna try to get some sleep before work.”

  She watched his back as he walked out. Serena had him deeper in her snare than she expected. She’d have to make sure Jackson didn’t go back tonight. A third night of Serena, and Jackson would get seriously ill from her draining him of his vitality. After that he’d be risking death. The succubus should know better than to let a client come back sev
eral consecutive nights in a row, but apparently this succubus didn’t care who she affected, as long as she was rich with their vitality.

  Anya shoved her hands into gloves and slammed her fists into the bag over and over until her anger and frustration subsided.

  Chapter 7

  She made it through her first two kickboxing classes with flying colors. By the end, all the members were red-faced with sweat gleaming off their brows. She smiled at the thank yous, thumbs up, and breath-catching between smiles. She was relieved that no one quit, passed out or whispered about how awful it had been.

  Now it was seven o’clock in the evening and she was pacing back and forth in her living room, repeatedly looking at the screen of her phone, waiting for Jackson to respond to her text message.

  Thirty minutes later she got dressed in jeans and a cute sleeveless shirt, making sure to don her leather belt with the gold wire. Ten minutes later she pulled into the parking lot of Donatello’s. She scanned the busy parking lot for Jackson or Joe’s cars. Sure enough Jackson’s blue Subaru WRX stuck out like a sore thumb. She frowned and made her way to the entrance. Only a couple minutes in a short line and she reached the same scary-looking bouncer that had checked her ID last time. He outstretched his hand and glared at her with his dead eyes and hard serious face.

  “Go in.” He motioned.

  She was glad he wasn’t a demon. He’d make one heck of an adversary for her. She moved down the hall, the thumping of music growing louder in her ears. She stepped out to the platform and looked around at the dancers, searching for Jackson or Joe. When she didn’t see them in the immediate area she moved to the bar. She didn’t see them there either. Her unsuccessful search confirmed what she already knew. They’d gone back to the VIP area.

  Her skin crawled and her body alerted her to the presence of a demon. She leaned against the bar and scanned the area. Walking right toward her was a tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed deliciously handsome demon named Dex. Her body shivered with uncontrolled arousal as he stalked toward her through the dancers, his dark eyes only on her. She squirmed under that possessive stare. He reached her and looked down at her, his expression revealing excitement and some sort of tension in his eyes. The flash of green flickered and then disappeared as he grinned.