The blackness was trying to push in on me again. My head didn’t hurt quite as bad as it had a few seconds ago, but I felt weak. Ridiculously weak. Had to get up, though. We needed to deal with the bodies…and get out of here.
Now.
I slammed a hand against the wall to keep from hitting the floor as nausea swam up to join the pain, threatened to drive me to my knees. I didn’t want to be on my knees in this house. Not on this floor. It was thick with blood, dark with death. Death, and its taint, would linger here.
Distantly, I felt ashamed, saddened. This had been such a nice little place and I had helped destroy it…
My legs were wobbling and I locked my knees to stay upright, concentrated on taking just one step. Then another. So focused on that, I didn’t see what was happening off to the side.
A silvery light, gathering in strength. Gathering mass.
It flashed and then there was a man.
He gave me a vaguely disgusted look and said, “Gretel, do sit down before you collapse.”
Mandy stared at him with wide, shocked eyes.
“Hi, Will. Nice to see you too,” I muttered, swallowing the nasty, hot bile that was climbing up my throat.
He moved away from the circle and studied the house. “You made an utter mess.”
Rip strode towards me and caught me in his arms. I have to admit, I was glad. The last of my strength drained away and in another second, I would have collapsed, I know it. “What in the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, glaring at Will.
“I’m here to clean up.” Then he flicked a look at Mandy. “And to take your charge from you.”
Mandy blinked and then looked at me, naked terror on her face. “Charge…is…is he talking about me?”
We hadn’t ever gotten around to that part. I looked at Will. “Take her? Why?”
“Because she needs to be…enlightened.”
“She has to choose it,” Rip said.
Will shrugged. “In her heart, she already has. But don’t worry, sleepyhead. I have not been gone from the field so long that I’ve forgotten the order of things. I’ll do it all right and proper, I promise.”
“But she’s my charge,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s up to me.”
Now Will smiled. It was a real smile too. And unless I was mistaken, there was some affection in it. “No, Gretel. You saved her—you and Rip. That’s all you were sent here for. Well, that…and so you two would find each other.”
My eyelids were too heavy.
I couldn’t keep looking at him.
The darkness swarmed around me. I fought against it and made myself open my eyes. There was still work to do.
A hand touched my cheek.
“No. I’ll handle it now… You rest.”
It was Will’s voice.
But it was Rip touching me. I turned my face into his hand, shuddered out a sigh and slept.
He didn’t like trusting Will. But he knew he did. Knew he had to. Rip glared at the other man as he pulled Greta against him.
“What are you doing here?”
Will returned his stare, a mocking smile on his face. “I already explained that.”
Mandy backed away from him. She looked like she was about ready to fly into a thousand pieces. This was too much for her. Way too much. “You aren’t taking me anywhere.”
“You’d rather walk in this world, knowing about the monsters but unable to fight them?” Will asked her.
It was the same question he’d posed to hundreds. Thousands.
It was the same question Fae had posed to Rip, all those years ago.
“Fight them?”
Will stooped by Fae’s lifeless body and brushed his fingers against the tarnished silver medallion. “Yes. Fight them.” He glanced at Rip, then at Mandy. “There is evil in the world. But it doesn’t have to leave you helpless. You don’t just have to deal. You can learn to fight it—you can learn to block it out so it doesn’t sneak into your dreams at night. That is the choice I offer you.”
“What in the hell are you talking about?” Mandy pressed fisted hands to her temples and squeezed her eyes closed. “None of this makes sense. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what’s going on.”
“If you come with me, I’ll explain all.” Will stood and held out a hand.
Mandy shot a look at Greta. Somehow, she’d forged a bond with the other woman. It didn’t surprise Rip. Softly, he said, “You can trust him. Greta does.” He sneered at Will and then added, “I trust him. I just don’t like him.”
“How can I trust anybody now?”
Stroking a hand down Greta’s pale cheek, Rip said, “Maybe you should just do what Greta said. Trust your gut. Somewhere inside, I think you knew you shouldn’t trust Fae. You wanted to. Maybe you needed to. But you knew you shouldn’t.”
Hesitantly, she nodded.
“So what does your gut say now?”
Mandy looked from Rip to Will and then back. She closed her eyes. Will continued to stand there, hand extended and waiting, like he had no doubt what Mandy’s choice would be. When she opened her eyes, she looked only Rip.
“If I say I want to just leave here, run away, change my name, maybe become a nun and walk around praying and playing with a crucifix, would you let me? Would he?”
“Yes.” Rip held her gaze.
“Yes,” Will echoed.
The tension eased from Mandy’s body and then she turned and studied Will. She looked. Rip could feel the intensity of that stare, feel the raw, untutored power in it. And even before she placed her hand in Will’s, he knew the answer too.
She’d made her choice.
“I’d look lousy in a nun’s habit, anyway,” she murmured.
As Will led her to the circle, Rip glanced around and muttered, “Leaving me to clean up again, you bastard.”
Over his shoulder, Will called out, “You made the mess, boy. Not me.”
The silver light flared. Bright and hot.
By the time it faded and Rip’s vision wasn’t so blinded by it, nearly a minute had passed. Weary, he eased Greta’s body down onto the couch and then stood. Such a mess, a troublesome mess, and it wasn’t going to be a pleasant task.
He glanced around the room. Stopped. He blinked his eyes a few times and then a reluctant grin came. “I’ll be damned.”
The room was impeccable. Even the busted door was restored.
And the dank, slimy feel of evil that should still linger was gone. No sign of the demons lingered. Not their presence, not their blood and not that lingering shadow of darkness.
I woke up to feel sun on my face.
There was a warm breeze blowing, toying with my hair, brushing against my body. My very naked body, I realized as I opened my eyes.
I didn’t know where in the world I was.
It was bright, though, very bright. Lots of windows. Lots of open windows that let in that very nice, warm breeze. Frowning, I pushed upright and looked out one of those windows. My jaw dropped as I realized I was on a beach. Somewhere.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
I swung my head around. Rip stood in the doorway, wearing a faded, worn-out pair of jeans, his medallion and nothing else. No leather coat, no arm sheathes that held five different knives. “Sleepyhead—isn’t that your nickname?”
His mouth twitched in that faint smile. “Sometimes I really hate the liberties storytellers take. That man didn’t get a single detail right except my name.”
“Well, the brothers Grimm didn’t exactly get my story right either, but I’d rather the world not know it anyway.” I shrugged and smoothed the cool, clean white sheets down around my legs. “Where are we?”
“Florida.”
That would explain the sandy beaches, I guess. Blood rushed up to my cheeks as I remembered the dream I’d had about Rip and me and beaches just a few days ago. Was it even a few days? Yes. It had been at least two days…I thought. But then again, it could have been longer. I had no idea how I’d gotte
n here. How long I’d been here.
“How long was I asleep?” I asked him, stretching my stiff body out before I eased over the edge.
“Nearly thirty hours.” He padded towards me and settled down on the bed next to me. “We needed to get away from Ann Arbor. It was a miracle none of the mortals saw us or called the police. I left some money for whoever owns the house, put you in my car and just started driving. Didn’t know where to go so I just came here.”
I glanced around and said, “Just where is here…besides Florida?”
“It’s my home,” he murmured. He laid a hand on my thigh. “And I was kind of hoping maybe you’d want it to be your home too.”
A grin tugged at his lips, and if I wasn’t mistaken he looked nervous. “Of course, it’s not one of those candy houses or anything, but still, I’d like to share it with you.”
“It was a gingerbread house, you dolt,” I said, even as tears started to sting my eyes.
A home.
A real home.
I hadn’t had one since…Mary. I could have—it was possible. There were arrangements that could be made, strings that could be pulled when one of us wanted to find someplace sort of permanent. Someplace safe. A home.
But nothing had ever felt like home since I’d left behind the little cottage in the woods where Mary had raised me. So many years ago.
One would think I might forget what it felt like to come home.
It’s not something one forgets. Ever. I promise you.
I covered Rip’s hand with mine. “Yeah. I’m thinking I’d like that.”
He stroked his fingertips over my brow and murmured, “How does your head feel?”
“Wonderful.” I leaned in and kissed him, pressing my mouth to his. I smiled against his lips and added, “I feel wonderful.”
“Yes.” He pulled me into his lap. I straddled him and pressed myself against the heat I could feel through his jeans. Hot and hard, already.
As he pulled me down on the bed with him, I whispered, “I love you.”
He cradled my head in his hands, his dark eyes locked on mine. “I love you.”
Later, I remember lying in bed and thinking, Huh. I finally got that happy ending, didn’t I?
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BIO
J.C. Daniels is the pen name of author Shiloh Walker.
Shiloh Walker has been writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book Bunnicula and has worked her way up to the more…ah…serious works of fiction. She loves reading and writing anything paranormal, anything fantasy, and nearly every kind of romance. Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with her family in the Midwest. She writes romantic suspense and contemporary romance, and urban fantasy as J.C. Daniels. You can find her at Twitter or Facebook and read more about her work at her website. Sign up for her newsletter and have a chance to win a monthly giveaway.
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Urban Fantasy Romance
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Burn For Me • Break For Me • Long For Me
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HUNT ME
A Paranormal Romance
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CHAPTER ONE
“Hello, gorgeous.”
The low, rich purr of her voice was enough to have Drew Quentin shifting in the miserable, busted chair. He also had to fight the urge to smile as he reminded himself he’d decided to end things with Dakota Coulter.
He wanted her, he was halfway in love with her…and she refused to so much as give him her damn phone number.
He could have handled that.
But the cop in him was a little bit disturbed by the fact that Dakota Coulter had a past that was just a little too mysterious. Oh, her background check held up—too well, actually. Something about her had his instincts quivering.
She wouldn’t open up for him.
“Drew?”
He closed his eyes. “I’m here, Dakota.”
“Having a rough night, sugar?”
The compassion in her voice all but gutted him. Damn it. This would be so much easier if she didn’t care—so much easier if he wasn’t in love with her.
“Yeah, you could say that.” He rubbed his temple. He shouldn’t have answered the damn phone. But shit, it wasn’t like he could avoid this forever. He looked up and saw Nicole staring at him. Nicole Halloway, the local DA with the pretty blue eyes, sweet smile and dynamite body.
She was there, she was steady. She was the reason he needed to break things off with Dakota. He liked Nic. Cared for her—a lot. There was an attraction there, too, one that could maybe become more. But not if he was obsessed with a woman who wouldn’t ever hang around for longer than a night or two.
“I guess you’re not up for meeting me after work, huh?” Dakota sighed. “That’s cool, sugar. I understand. I’ll look you up—”
“No.” He continued to stare at Nic. He had to get this done. “We can meet. I…I’ve been needing to talk to you anyway, Dakota.”
Now Nic’s brows arched up over big blue eyes. So far their ‘dates’ hadn’t been much more than a cup of coffee, a quick lunch. She knew he’d been seeing another woman, knew he wasn’t going to get serious until he’d been able to break things off. It was time he did that.
Even if it did feel a little like he was ripping out his own kidney with his teeth. Or even his heart.
Sighing, Dakota ended the call.
Something in Drew’s voice had her heart aching.
“We need to talk, huh, lover? Yeah. I’ve heard that line before.” Then she tipped her head back, staring up at the nighttime sky. Granted, she hadn’t heard it much in recent years. Not since she’d slid into a crazy little world where vampires, werewolves and other things went bump in the night. Sometime back in the 70’s, she thought.
Yeah. She smiled absently, some echo of fondness trying to lift the melancholy settling over her heart. But it wouldn’t budge. She’d been kind of happy about coming to Asheville. Now? Not so much.
She was a Hunter without a territory or Master. Her random circuit had her rambling all over the east coast. She often ended up in this area, and she’d bee
n just fine with that. Because this area held a lot of appeal for her, namely in the fine form of one Asheville city detective…Andrew Michael Quentin…Drew.
Drew—the cop who was getting ready to dump her.
She glanced down at her clothes, remembered she’d planned to change before she saw him. “Screw changing.”
She was going shopping.
If he was going to dump her, she was going to show him in vivid, glorious detail what he was missing.
Maybe it would make her feel better.
Although she wasn’t particularly counting on it.
The splash of murderous red on her nails didn’t do much to lift her spirits, but Dakota was pleased with how she looked, at least. The dress might have been a bit overdone, but red looked good on her. It clung to her curves, stopped just a bit short of her knees. And she could still move.
She’d passed on the really cute Jimmy Choos with the ankle straps, settling on a simpler pair of heels. She could run barefoot without falling. Even though falling wasn’t likely, running flat out in heels wasn’t as easy as people might make it seem in books or movies.
On the job, Dakota was practical, and even if she was taking some time to get dumped, she was still working. The only time she wasn’t working was when she crashed in her cabin up in Maine or when she got pulled into Excelsior for one thing or another.
The life of a Hunter.
Sighing, she made one last study of her reflection, pulling the brush through her dark brown hair. It curled around her mostly naked shoulders, the ends coming down to drape around her breasts. She looked good. She was honest enough to admit that. She looked good…like a woman who wanted a man to know it, too.
“Damn it.” She swallowed and turned away from her reflection, determined not to spend the next hour thinking about this. Next hour, minimum, because even though she wasn’t meeting Drew until midnight, she’d be circling around the city. Circling around, watching things. Making sure she wasn’t being watched. There were paranormal creatures aplenty here.
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