Halfway Wicked (Wildes on the Hunt #1)

by Dara Kent

  “How long until your cop friend gets here?” I drummed my fingers along the steering wheel, wishing I could ram my way in. No wait, no fuss. Well, maybe a little fuss.

  Monica tapped the display on her phone. “He said he was on the way, so it depends on where in Nashville he was when I called. Not long though. Unless there’s traffic.”

  Nashville traffic was a bitch. It used to only be bad during rush hours, but then the population exploded. I wasn’t sure what did it, all the celebrities making the move to Music City, those TV shows that unrealistically portrayed what Nashville living was all about, or a combination of several factors. All I knew was that the small-city charm with big-city amenities was long gone. I lamented the old days from when I first moved to the city. Maybe it really is time to move on.

  Glancing at Jensen, I fidgeted. What would it mean for us if we suddenly pulled up our roots? Would he follow? Did I want him to? I loved the asshat of a warlock, but my doubts about a long-term future between us remained intact even after getting back together.

  I slumped in my seat, grinding my teeth together. “I hope your friend gets here soon or I will be forced to ram this damn gate.”

  As if on cue, a Nashville PD vehicle rolled to a stop behind us. A tall man with dark hair and brown skin slipped from the driver’s side, no one else visible in the car. He appeared to be about in his early to mid-thirties, carrying the stunning good looks that all Heaven marked seemed to possess. I often wondered if they all got upgrades with their marks. Heaven did seem to have a thing about beauty, which left a bad taste in my mouth. Perfection should never be a prerequisite for hunting. Or pretty much anything outside of the fashion industry. Even then …

  Ugh. Maybe I’m jealous. I wasn’t the type to be overly concerned with my appearance, but every once in a while, a bit of insecurity snuck its way in. Usually when an exceptionally hot girl put the moves on Jensen right in front of me. It happened more than once, although I’d worked my issues out in between the sheets. Because nothing boosted my confidence like witnessing the awe on my man’s face after I rocked his world.

  Focus, perv. Now is not the time. How often do you need to be reminded?

  Monica hopped out of the car, speaking in a hushed whisper with her friend. He responded with a few clipped words before marching up to the gate.

  Glancing around, he tapped on the bars. “Hello? Anyone there? This is an officer from the Nashville Police Department, and I need to speak with the owner of this house.”

  We all waited, peering around for some kind of security, or a response from a hidden speaker. There was no way a house like the one we were parked in front of relied on a gate alone. Although it was keeping us out, but only because we didn’t want to make a scene.

  With a click and a groan, the gate swung inward, the lock released.

  I grinned. All right. Here we go.

  19

  Jensen made a grab for my hand, and I shirked to the side, wanting to keep it free for fighting. Frowning, he didn’t give comment but remained a bit closer than I would have liked as we made our way to the front door behind Monica and her police officer friend.

  Monica paused on the front step of the porch, turning to face us. “Let Regan do all the talking until we get an assessment of the situation.” Her gaze locked onto me as if I was the problem child.

  “I can behave when I want to,” I grumbled.

  Lily bumped my arm with her shoulder. “Yeah, the issue is you hardly ever want to.”

  I smirked. She did have a point. I could restrain myself when needed, but most of the time I didn’t see the point. Ugh. Whatever. As long as we find the human we came here for.

  Monica turned back around without another word, but not before she rolled her eyes blatantly in my direction. Please, as if she is the epitome of maturity at all times. Oh, wait. She is. Which was kind of the problem at the moment.

  Nudging Jensen, I hissed out of the side of my mouth, “Do you still feel the human’s essence from the warehouse?” Words couldn’t begin to describe the level of pissed I’d be if he or she got away while we were stuck outside of the stupid gate.

  “Whoever it is, they are definitely still in there.”

  “How are you feeling?” Lily asked, her voice hushed.

  Right. I thought I was getting sick. At some point, the symptoms abated, and I hadn’t noticed. “I forgot about it, so I guess I’m not sick anymore.”

  Lily pulled her teeth along her lower lip. “That was fast, even for a twice marked. You sure you’re not psyching yourself out?”

  I shook my head. “No. I feel fine now. Honestly.”

  “Okaaay,” she drawled, dragging her gaze across my face as if she could spot a lie of some sort there. “But if you start moving in slo-mo like you did before I want you out of there, no excuses.”

  I chuckled. “Okay, Mom.”

  “I’m serious.” She pinched my arm.

  “Ow, stop doing that.” Lily was one to call out my hypocrisy for hitting Jensen, but my sister was free with the minor forms of violence when it came to me, like pinching and kicking. Apparently, aversion to violence didn’t apply to sisters.

  “I’ll stop doing it when you stop needing it.” She stuck her tongue out, swallowing it back quickly when she remembered where we were. Her cheeks heated.

  I grunted, resisting the urge to stick out my own tongue. Because we were mature adults on a hunt. “What’s taking so long?” I stage whispered at Monica.

  Without turning around, she shrugged.

  “Someone opened the gate for us, obviously,” Regan stated, “but there’s no sign of movement in there.” He rang the doorbell again, frowning as he cocked his head to listen.

  I rubbed my hands together. “Time to break it down then.”

  “Or,” Monica raised her voice, causing me to jump, “we check around back for another way in.”

  I scrunched my nose. “We’ll still be breaking in, what’s the difference?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing them with the fleshy part of her palms. “I know you’re smart, Riss. And I know you’re being antagonistic by playing stupid about this right now. But please, stop.”

  She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either. The truth was somewhere in between, as it usually was with me. I knew there was a difference, technically. Checking for an unlocked back door or side window wasn’t as problematic as kicking in the front door for appearance's sake, which regular humans were all about. But in the end, we were illegally entering a house without a warrant. Why worry about appearances when it only wasted precious time? And yes, I was deliberately taunting Monica with my comments to be antagonistic. Apparently, passive-aggressive behavior was genetic in my family. Either that, or all the years spent in close quarters with Lily caused some of hers to rub off on me.

  Our little group clamored around the side of the mansion, stopping to rattle windows and peer inside. We let Regan lead, but by the time we moved around to the back, it seemed fairly likely no one was coming out to greet us despite opening the gate.

  “A place like this and no one around to shove a gun in our face,” Lily whispered, her gaze entranced by the pool a few dozen feet in front of us. It was enclosed in glass, condensation gathering. She slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, god, I really hope there’s not a little, old lady with a shotgun waiting for us in there.”

  Regan withdrew his firearm from its holster, edging up to the back door. “Nashville PD, if anyone is inside, be advised that we have a warrant and are entering.”

  “I thought they had a legal thing they had to say,” Lily commented, crouching low as if she was about to start dodging bullets. She grabbed my arm, yanking hard so I’d join her.

  “I think you mean the thing they say when they arrest someone, and they have the right to remain silent. I’m not sure about the rest. Plus, we don’t actually have a warrant, so there is that.”

  Jensen stopped beside us, mirth dancing in his eyes. “You two can get u
p. If a little, old lady starts spraying the area with buckshot, I’ll throw up a protection bubble.”

  Interesting. “Is the bubble a warlock or witch thing?” Because if it was a witch spell of some sort then that would mean he had people shooting at him enough to have cause to practice a protection bubble. Or maybe not. There were lots of things a protection bubble could come in handy for.

  “Warlock,” he grated.

  “Mmm …” What else was there to say? The last few days had revealed to me more about his magic than the entire time we’d been together. Did that make me a bad girlfriend? Probably. Although it wasn’t like he offered up a lot of details and I ignored him. Jensen simply didn’t talk about his magic or history. For most it would be a red flag, a guy not wanting to talk about his past or personal details, but I never thought I’d stick around long enough for it to matter. Maybe now it did.

  Regan twisted the doorknob, and surprisingly it turned. He paused long enough to sweep his gaze over us before raising a finger to his lips.

  I nodded and made a little shooing motion with my hand. Come on, let’s go!

  Slowly, we single file made our way into what appeared to be a mudroom. A few pairs of shoes were precariously flung in the corner, near a dropped beach towel. Nothing nefarious or unusual.

  Regan proceeded farther into the house, the rest of us fanning out behind him, weapons ready.

  “Hello, Nashville PD. Anyone home? Please announce yourself.”

  A wave of putrid air, the level of acrid stench I’d never experienced before, punched me in my face and I gagged. “Oh, shit.” I pressed the back of my hand into my nose and mouth, my eyes watering. “What the hell is that?” I bet everyone wishes masks were still a thing right about now. I know I do.

  Regan and Monica jogged to the right, while Jensen, Lily, and I stayed in a holding pattern where we were. My heart thrummed against my eardrums as I scanned our immediate surroundings, no sign of life making itself known.

  “Someone opened the gate,” Jensen muttered, his gaze bouncing across the same areas mine were.

  “Do you still feel the human?”

  “Yeah.” But his expression closed off, pulling into hard lines.

  “What?” I poked him with my elbow. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Monica and Regan came back into view, both appearing slightly flustered.

  “Well?” I shifted from foot to foot. “Tell us what’s going on.”

  Regan scrubbed a hand down his face. “You can take a quick look around to see if the guy you tracked is here, but make it fast because this is a murder scene and I need to call it in.”

  Murder scene? Oh, yeah, the smell that’s currently eating away at the inside of my nose. “How many?”

  Monica’s face paled. “Hard to say. They’re in pieces. Three or four, maybe? Possibly more.”

  Lily wobbled, leaning into me. “Demon kills?” she asked.

  For some reason my sister was reassured when murders weren’t carried out by humans, as if it was better when she understood why something happened. Demons were evil, she could accept that. But humans doing such horrible things, she had a difficult time wrapping her mind around it.

  Monica glanced at Regan who nodded once. “Seems to be, yes.”

  Lily heaved a relieved sigh as she straightened herself. “But someone opened the gate? Someone or something is alive in here.”

  My thoughts exactly, and since Jensen had said the same thing, it seemed as if we were all on the same page. Not surprising since none of us were complete idiots. “Let’s fan out.” Raising my blades, I made my way straight ahead, no intention of imprinting the images of the carnage permanently on my psyche. I already had enough horrible shit I wished I could scrub from my brain.

  Footsteps sounded behind me, and I whirled to find Jensen trailing me. “I should be leading the way, Val. I’m the one with the—”

  “Yeah, right. I forgot.”

  He caught up to me in a few strides, giving me one of his patented smirks, but no further comment. It was all there in his mirth-filled eyes though. Yep, I’d rushed off without thinking things through … again. Or maybe I should say as usual.

  Lily scrambled to catch up with us, eyes darting around in every direction, her blades trembling in her hands. She was rattled, but I wouldn’t call her on it because she always did what needed to be done. Fear was only problematic if it froze a hunter, and fortunately, that wasn’t the case with my sister. I witnessed her crying while she beheaded a demon once. She simply didn’t enjoy the thrill of the hunt like I did, her personality geared to the softer things in life. It never stopped her from succeeding at our missions though. In fact, I personally felt it made her more badass than me in a lot of ways. Doing what comes easy isn’t an accomplishment. Doing what goes against your nature because it’s what needs to be done, definitely more impressive. She was just as much a survivor as I was. So I never made fun of her antics while on a hunt. Besides, there were plenty of other things to harass her over in the other parts of our lives.

  Like the whole flower power thing for instance. Talk about stupid.

  Jensen crept up the stairs, his hands raised and ready to disperse magic, with Lily and me hot on his heels. Once at the top of the landing, he jerked his head to the right.

  A figure sped from a doorway, masculine, my gaze snagging on the knife he held high in the air, the sharp edge pointing ominously in Lily’s direction.

  A red haze flickered over my vision, rage pounding through my veins. Without a thought, I leapt around Jensen, barreling toward the would-be attacker. A screech escaped my target as we slammed into the ground.

  Teeth gnashing, the now confirmed male attempted to bite me, his face twisted and borderline feral. “We’re all free to do whatever we want because soon Hell will be empty.”

  I recoiled as spittle flew from his mouth.

  “Silence him,” an insidious voice slithered through my mind.

  Snarling, I freed one of my hands long enough to run my blade over his neck. Blood spilled out, and he gurgled around more insane words, hardly seeming to notice what I’d done.

  “Riss!” Lily’s voice filtered into my consciousness. “Riss! Stop! What are you doing?”

  Strong arms banded around my middle, lifting me into the air. I kicked and screamed, arms and legs flailing. No! I need to finish this! Pain spiked through my skull, black pressing around my vision.

  “Val, shh … it’s okay.” Within Jensen’s embrace, I was rocked back and forth.

  “No!” I struggled, trying to break free. “You don’t understand!”

  Monica and Regan had appeared at some point, but I was unsure when. The two of them worked over the limp body, probably trying to save him.

  “He deserves to die. Human or not, he’s a murderer. He was crazed. He was going straight for Lily.” Jensen stroked my hair, the motion meant to be soothing, but instead riled me up more. “Just let me go.”

  Lily stood directly in front of me, blocking my view of anything but her face. Her blue eyes met mine, imploring me to listen. “I’m fine. Look,” she patted her cheeks, “I wasn’t hurt.” She notched her chin up. “Plus, I can take care of myself.”

  “He was coming straight at you,” I huffed out, slumping a bit against Jensen.

  “No, he ran at us in general, but he wasn’t coming at me.” She nibbled her thumb, studying me. “We need him for information.”

  That’s right. We tracked the human who was present at the scene of Devon’s murder to get answers. How did I forget something so important? We’d confirmed the existence of the weapon via the true status of Pestilence’s death.

  I rubbed my temples. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” I had no excuse, no true rationale. I’d quite literally seen red before snapping.

  Lily frowned. “I’ve never seen you move like that. You were lightning fast.”

  Jensen’s fingers dug into my stomach as his grip tightened. “You’re still sick
and you’re pushing yourself.”

  Lily’s mouth pressed into a pale, flat line. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’ve been running off adrenaline which made you react the way you did. That and the way you moved. You pushed yourself past your limits.”

  My body was suddenly drained of all energy, and I slumped forward. “Yeah, that must be it.”

  Everything went dark.

  20

  Lily moved through the dense crowd at the club, smiling and laughing as men fell over themselves for her attention. She wore a tiny, silver dress, the slinky material hugging her curves in all the right places. I followed her at a safe distance, my all-black attire meant to have the opposite effect as my sister’s, lending me the shadows as she captured the light. She was the bait for the prey we sought, a demon who frequented the area, luring partygoers to their demise with the promise of a never-ending high. The target in question was a Dio demon, a species of demon we nicknamed in honor of Dionysus, the party god.

  Lily paused to accept a drink from a tall man with dark hair dressed in a suit, her gaze flicking briefly in my direction. She brought the glass to her lips, moving to hold two fingers in front of it.

  Bingo. We have the Dio on the hook.

  The goal was to get the demon isolated, which was the simple part of taking down one of these deceptively easy-to-kill nasties. Because in order to kill a Dio, he had to be in his true form.

  Devon stepped out of the crowd, blocking my path to Lily. “Riss, please. You have to help me.”

  “I will. But first I have to go after Lily.” Shoving around him, I dashed in the direction my sister and the Dio were headed.

  Grabbing my shoulder, Devon spun me back around to face him. “No, Riss, please. This isn’t you.” Blood and bruises covered his face and hands, his clothes in tatters. “Help me.” He dropped to his knees, several teeth falling from his mouth.