“What do you want from me?”
He crouched and prepared to lunge for her. “Don’t hold back.” He met her eyes. “I like it when my victims put up a fight.”
Happy to oblige, she pulled her Smith & Wesson from her lower back, aimed and fired.
* * *
THE SOUND OF a shot from somewhere inside the building rang in Damon’s ears. His heart stopped. “Go!” he yelled into his radio. He and the Sergeant lunged from the van, hitting the pavement at full speed.
The hunters rushed from their positions and burst into the warehouse. Shots were fired, the sounds echoing off the metal walls, followed by the clatter of ricocheting bullets. Damon unsheathed his sword and launched himself through the main entry. He didn’t think twice. He swung the heavy weight of the silver sword in front of him, slicing the head of the vampire in front of him clean off.
The vampire exploded in a burst of blood. Shrieks and cries of pain filled the room, but a steady constant buzz filled Damon’s ears.
Tiffany.
Nothing would stop him from getting to her.
Brandishing his weapon, he cut savagely into vampire after vampire, destroying any and all of the monsters standing in his path. A male leech rushed him from behind. Spinning, Damon brought down his sword and chopped through the monster’s skull. Blood splattered his face.
He drew his sword back, only to have the weapon wrenched from his grasp as something huge tackled him from behind.
Spinning to face his attacker, Damon snatched his stake from his side and plunged the sharpened weapon downward. Huge hands caught his wrist, and he locked eyes with his opponent. His breath caught in his throat as he stood nose to nose with the shell of what had once been his best friend.
A blazing red pulsed in Mark’s eyes. He hissed and twisted Damon’s arm, trying to get him to release the stake. Damon gritted his teeth and pushed forward. He would not allow the pain constricting his chest to deter him. He would kill Mark, releasing his friend from the fate he’d always dreaded.
The two men met each other punch for punch and kick for kick. It was just like sparring class, where they’d always partnered to fight against each other. Being older and stronger, Damon had always won. He intended to win this time, too.
Mark stepped closer, and his fist collided with Damon’s gut. It was the one move Damon always caught him on. It was as if Mark was handing him the fight. Damon stepped into him, clutching Mark’s arm and using the weight of his body against him.
With the help of his hip, he dropped Mark onto his back, but Mark quickly shifted to his knees.
Damon brought the stake down with all his might. Mark grabbed Damon’s wrist, but he was at a clear disadvantage, on his knees with Damon standing over him. A loud yell ripped from Damon’s throat, releasing a fresh wave of adrenaline. He channeled all his energy into his biceps, struggling until he positioned the stake directly in front of Mark’s heart.
The vampire bared his teeth, battling with all his strength, but Damon held firm. One small shove and he could end this. He would keep his promise to his best friend, his fellow hunter. His whole body shook as he tried to force himself to do what he needed to.
Sweet Lord, help him. He had to murder his friend.
The pulsating red in Mark’s eyes flickered and for a quick moment his face slackened. The rage and fight disappeared from his expression completely.
“D-do it, Damon,” he stammered, before his eyes blazed crimson again.
Damon gritted his teeth and didn’t think twice. He plunged the wood of his stake straight into Mark’s heart. The blood of his only friend, his fellow hunter, of Tiffany’s brother, covered his face.
“Everybody out!” he heard someone scream.
A loud explosion sounded from his right, and a wave of heat washed over him. The force of the explosion knocked him to the ground. Fire spilled through the building.
With shaking hands, he wiped the crimson liquid from his eyes.
“Brock!” The Sergeant’s muffled yell carried from behind him.
Damon looked up and everything stopped.
For one long second he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function.
Amid the smoke and flames, a large vampire stood silhouetted on the opposite side of the room, his arm around Tiffany’s neck in a choke hold. She writhed against the bloodsucker’s grip, struggling fruitlessly against him.
Damon launched himself from the ground and sprinted full speed toward her. Several of his fellow hunters and the Sergeant hooked their arms through his and tugged him back. Damon fought against them with every ounce of strength he possessed. They struggled to hold him back.
“No! Let it go, Brock! No!” the Sergeant yelled in his ear.
As the vampire disappeared into the smoke of the building, carrying Tiffany with him, her head snapped in Damon’s direction.
No!
A loud cry ripped from Damon’s throat as Tiffany’s eyes flashed crimson and she bared her fangs.
* * * * *
Keep reading for a
special excerpt from
TWILIGHT HUNTER
the next book in
Kait Ballenger's
“Execution Underground” series.
Excerpt from TWILIGHT HUNTER by Kait Ballenger,
book one of The Execution Underground
CHAPTER ONE
DAVID ARONOWITZ UNSHEATHED his dagger and steadied the weapon. The serrated silver blade glinted in the dim amber glow of a nearby streetlight as he slipped into the shadows. He ran his thumb over the edge of the knife. New. Spotless and unused. If he had his way, it wouldn’t be unused much longer.
That demon piece of shit was going down.
He crept farther into the darkness, ears attuned to the slightest noise. The distant sounds of sirens from Strong Memorial Hospital echoed through the night, mixed with the sounds of occasional car horns and passersby. The damp scent of March’s latest snowfall-turned-brown-slush filled his nose. He had only a few minutes until his target arrived, and he couldn’t afford to mess this up.
He didn’t want to leave Allsún. It killed him to leave her bedside. But he had no choice. Jace had agreed to take over his vigil. In his absence, David trusted Jace to keep Allsún safe.
He patted the pocket of his Harley jacket. As he felt his Beretta holstered beneath the leather, a grim smile curved his lips. If there was one thing he loved it was new weapons, and tonight he had two brand-new toys: his dagger and, his personal favorite, the new bullets he’d loaded into the Berretta. Months of trying and finally he’d crafted a bullet that exploded on impact, releasing holy water inside the demonic target. A small part of him couldn’t wait to see the look on the monster’s face when he tested those little beauties.
His current assignment was to trail a demon he suspected was an Abyzu. One of those sick bastards had popped onto the Execution Underground’s radar when an infant girl was murdered two weeks ago. A dull ache pulsed through his heart every time he thought of the horrifying pain her parents had experienced, and would for the rest of their lives.
That baby-killing son-of-a-bitch would pay—no doubt about that, he’d make certain of it. But he had different plans for tonight. An Abyzu wasn’t his target. This was personal.
He shifted behind the Dumpster. A sharp pain shot up his leg, reminding him—as if he could forget—of his last major job gone horribly wrong, and the price of his failure. He deserved the pain. It was a just punishment, because he’d failed her. The one time Allsún had needed him, and he’d let her down. Left his ex-fiancée to the mercy of a sick, sexual sadist.
He gazed in the direction of the hospital, picturing her as he’d left her. She looked so peaceful, lying in the hospital bed with her eyes closed as if she were sleeping, though he knew better. She’d been imprisoned and
tortured, and he’d been helpless to protect her. Sure, there were circumstances beyond his control. And, as his fellow hunters liked to point out, he had been the one to save her. But she’d suffered. She continued to suffer.
And knowing her pain was driving him insane.
He kicked the Dumpster with his injured leg, welcoming the sting it sent through his leg. Discovering a demon had possessed the doctor caring for his suffering ex-fiancée while she helplessly lay in a coma had been the chocolate icing on the shit cake.
The demon/doctor was no fool. He surrounded himself with humans, keeping to the busiest sections of the hospital. Shit, David had come close to losing his fucking mind, waiting for the right moment to take the sucker down. He’d been watching the bastard for weeks, and his patience was about to pay off. Any time now the monster would be cutting through the alleyway after the end of his shift.
David paused, and listened. Footsteps approached. He forced himself to focus. It was time. In three, two, one. L’chayim, bitch.
His eyes locked on to the open mouth of the alley, illuminated by a nearby streetlight. As his target rounded the corner and moved toward him, David held his breath and raised his knife for the attack. The sound of footfalls filled the alleyway’s narrow walls, and the whistling wind echoed through the backstreet. With his damaged leg, one wrong move and he would be toast.
The demon’s steps grew louder as David waited to strike. He had one shot to pin the hell-crawler before the monster attacked, or, more likely, turned tail and ran like the little bitch it was. And if the bastard ran, David’s jacked-up leg would make pursuit near impossible.
David focused on his enemy. Suddenly the demon halted mid-stride, on alert, as if sensing the threat lurking in the shadows. David froze, not a single muscle moving. He couldn’t screw this up.
The demon took another cautious step forward. A ray of light from one of the nearby streetlights cast on to the doctor’s face. Shit. This situation was a mess. David had no idea how long the physician had been possessed or, more importantly, whether or not he was still living somewhere inside that skull. He bit back his frustration and reminded himself of the plan. He didn’t want to kill the thing, just pin it down, get the information he needed and exorcise the demon from the doctor’s body. As much as he wanted to carve the monster’s face up for even looking at Allsún, he couldn’t bring himself to go for the kill. Not with the possibility of the body’s original owner being alive.
The demon’s eyes darted around the alley, scanning his surroundings. After several long moments it continued on its way. David smiled. Perfect. He allowed the monster to walk several feet past him, farther into the shadows. Shifting his weight, he prepped for a lunge. The side of his hip brushed the brick wall he stood against, making the slightest sound.
Fuck.
The bastard paused again and turned around.
David didn’t have time to think. He threw himself on to the demon. His torso collided with the lanky physician’s, and he knocked the monster to the ground. He shoved the blade of his knife against the hell-crawler’s throat. The demon struggled beneath him. It wriggled an arm free and clocked David square in the cheekbone.
David’s head snapped back from the force of the blow. His vision blurred. Though the demon’s chosen body was human, the monster’s strength was still of supernatural proportions. The demon possessing the doctor packed one hell of a punch. Damn, that would hurt in the morning.
The hell-spawn seized the free moment, bucking David off and scrambling to its feet. Vision still blurred, David followed suit, quickly regaining his footing. He slashed his knife through the air, backing the demon into a corner between the Dumpster and the wall of the alley.
The demon laughed. “You think a blade will hurt me, hunter?” It put both arms out in a welcoming gesture. “By all means, carve up this nice doctor I’m wearing. You won’t cause me any permanent harm.”
David frowned. Now he was pissed. He hated demons, especially smart-ass ones. He slashed across the demon’s face. A sharp hiss echoed through the alley as the blade seared through its skin. The creature clutched its cheek as steam billowed off the burning wound. David slammed the demon against the wall, pushing his knife flush against its throat.
He smirked. “A blessed blade, you sulfur-sucking fucker.” David pushed the knife harder against the demon’s skin. “And that’s ‘exorcist’ to you.”
The demon swore. David choked back a laugh. What kind of dumbass was this thing? He wasn’t one to brag, but with a reputation like his, the demon should’ve known stepping foot inside Rochester put him smack-dab in the middle of David’s hunting territory. If there was one thing demons hated more than anything, it was dealing with exorcists like him. He sent them back to hell every time—and every demon he’d ever encountered had been desperate to escape Satan’s hellhole for good. It was no easy feat to get here, so they sure didn’t want to be sent back.
David leaned the slightest bit harder into his blade, drawing blood. Another hiss sounded as the cut on the demon’s neck burned and smoked. It writhed against David’s weight.
First for the personal business. “What were you doing at Allsún’s bedside, you freak?” David growled.
A small smile curved the demon’s lips. “Who?” it taunted.
With his free fist David punched the demon in the face. From the crunch beneath his knuckles, he could tell the physician’s nose had broken. The poor guy would have to deal with the pain of the injuries David inflicted, assuming he was still alive, but it sure beat the alternative. David threw another punch, and blood gushed from the demon’s nostrils.
He needed answers, and he needed them now. “Don’t get cute with me, princess. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
The demon’s eyes shifted from a human brown to a burning bloodred. Its anger showed in the hint of its true form. “You mean the delicious girl I plan to gut from the inside out?”
“If you touch a single hair on her head, I will skin you alive and pour holy water across your open wounds until you’ve sizzled to nothing more than a piece of smoking, rotting flesh,” David hissed. His blood was boiling. The thought of Allsún hurting any more than she already was sent pure rage coursing through his veins. He’d already failed to protect her once. He wouldn’t let it happen again.
The demon grinned through the blood pouring down its face. “And kill this sweet doctor I’m wearing, a man who has saved countless lives? I don’t think so.”
David growled. “You underestimate my hatred for you hell-whores.” He shoved the knife harder against the demon’s throat. More smoke burned from the wound. “Tell me why you’ve been riding her doctor or I’ll exorcise your sorry ass back to hell right this second.”
The demon didn’t respond.
“One last chance.”
The demon grinned. Blood from the doctor’s nose gushed into its mouth and stained its smile a putrid shade of crimson. No answer.
David clenched his teeth. Fine. If the demon wanted pain, he’d give it pain. He cleared his throat and began to recite the exorcism ritual. The Hebrew words fell from his lips with familiar ease.
The veins underneath the demon’s skin darkened until the varicose lines covered the doctor’s whole body. The demon’s eyes blazed an even more fiery red, and he shook in uncontrollable jerks. David didn’t stop chanting, not even to catch his breath.
The demon let out a strained cry. “All right already,” it interrupted him. “Don’t exorcise me and I’ll tell you what you want.”
David waited. The little shit had called uncle sooner than he’d expected.
The demon coughed blood as the blue-and-purple veins covering the body it possessed slowly faded. “She’s the last Fae creature outside the Isle of Apples. I came to kill her, and I would have, if you hadn’t been permanently glued to her bedside.”
David forced himself to remain calm for Allsún’s sake. He couldn’t let the demon know it was on to anything big. “Who sent you?” he asked.
The demon shrugged. “It’s just me.”
David let out another low growl and slid the edge of his blade across the demon’s throat.
The monster yelled in agony. “I’m on my own. I swear it. I possessed the hospital janitor, and I was riding him for some fun when I came across her. I knew what she was right away, so I decided to toy with her and possessed the doc. I wanted to say I was the demon to kill the last faerie on Earth.”
David met the demon’s eyes and assessed the worthless piece of filth. From its mild strength he could tell it was no head-honcho. Just another lowly bottom-feeder. Probably a Belial demon, if he were to wager a guess. A Belial would be dumb enough to go after someone as valuable as Allsún without orders from its superiors.
“Did you tell anyone else about her?”
The hell-spawn shook its head. “No, no one. You have my word. Just let me go.”
David scoffed. “Your word is worth less than a dead man’s ball sack. I know you demons chatter like gossiping schoolgirls with one another, so unless you can tell me something useful about the demon that murdered that poor infant girl two weeks ago, you’re taking a one-way trip back to hell.” David began to recite the ritual again, his words slow, deliberate.
The veins throughout the doctor’s body bulged again, and the demon shrieked. “Send me back to hell and I’ll tell every demon there about her!”
Shadow Hunter (The Execution Underground) Page 17