Claimed by the Demon Hunter

by Harley James

  Whatever was between them, he wanted to be with Jessie again soon.

  Alas, in less than twelve hours she’d find out who he really was.

  Then things might get a little touchy.

  Chapter 3

  “Grandpa’s going to love that cashmere scarf. But don’t cave and give it to him before your anniversary like you did last year,” Jessie scolded her grandmother. She pulled into her grandparents’ driveway, put her car in park, and hustled out of the vehicle to assist the tiny woman. The lovely shade of pink that bloomed on Tilly Jacobs’ cheeks took a good decade off her seventy-nine years.

  “Walt can beguile all he likes. But this year, I am not giving in,” Tilly promised.

  Jessie nodded, noticing her grandfather step out the front door to collect his bride, a slight breeze catching a shock of his white hair to make it stand on end. He’d been watching out for Tilly every day for the last fifty-eight years. Theirs was a real life love story—the for richer, for poorer, through sickness and health kind.

  Not the fairy tale sort like last night with demigod Nate.

  Yeah, don’t go there right now. “Good. Be strong for five more days, Gramma. If you get weak and feel like spilling the beans early, give me a call. I’m good at interventions. Deal?”

  Tilly tucked the package under her arm and tilted her cheek for Walt’s kiss when he reached her side. “It’s a deal. Though, you may regret your offer. I have a feeling this rascal is going pester me relentlessly.”

  Tilly’s smile coaxed a wink from Walt before he turned to Jessie. “You girls have a good time?”

  His expression was far more serious than his voice suggested. “She was fine,” Jessie whispered, closing her eyes when his arms came around her. He smelled like Old Spice, love, and happy times. All her best memories included these two.

  “It was wonderful, Walt. I’ve missed shopping.” Tilly yawned and leaned into her husband. Jessie’s gaze met her grandfather’s worried one over her grandmother’s head. Just two months ago, Tilly’s doctor had advised that they start looking for nursing homes because of her failing health. Walt was devastated at the thought of living apart from her. Jessie worried they’d both go downhill if they were separated, so she was determined to find a way to keep them together. The few available options were just so damn expensive. She swallowed a lump in her throat and pasted on a smile. “I’ll take you anytime you wanna go, Gramma.”

  “Thank you, sweetheart. You’re always so good to me.”

  “Good to us.” Walt angled his body to shield Tilly from the wind.

  “If I can give you half the love you guys have showered on me since…” Mom tried to throw me in a dumpster in her cocaine-induced rage over having a biracial child…

  “Jessie.” Her grandfather’s voice held a warning, but no matter how much they wanted her to forget, some things were impossible to un-remember.

  Or forgive. Even if her mother had eventually died sober—and more tolerant of the black half of Jessie’s genetics—a few years ago.

  She rubbed her grandmother’s frail arm. “Go on inside now. Some tea and a nap would be a good follow up to our shopping trip, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, that sounds nice, if a little patronizing, dear.”

  Jessie kissed her cheek. “The tough love’s gotta come from somewhere since your groom does nothing but spoil you.”

  Walt’s laughter followed her as she made her way back to the car. Though the wind continued to fuss, her grandfather’s voice carried strongly. “You’ll understand when someone becomes the very beat of your heart.”

  “Don’t ever settle, Jessica!” Tilly added, looking pale.

  “I’ll get right on that, guys. I’ll invite you to the wedding if I find any extra Disney princes in my part of town!”

  “Jessica.”

  “Just kidding!” Kinda. Nate could definitely inspire a new Disney prince. Well, the x-rated sort anyway. Jessie raised her hand in a vague wave. “Enjoy your siesta. I’ll call you later!” When she got in the car, she still had half an hour before her work meeting at Mirage, the new name for the nightclub Uncle Mason had built from the ground up. But since it would be her first meeting with the club’s new owner—the man who practically stole her uncle’s life’s work right out from under him—she might as well get there early. Good impressions and all that. She didn’t want to give people cause to believe she was responsible when the cops started investigating.

  Because she was determined to find out why the new owner had wanted the club so bad. And how he’d manipulated Mason into selling it for pennies on the dollar. Her uncle wasn’t shrewd, compelling, or smooth—qualities you associate with nightclub owners. Yeah, he had problems, but he’d been a constant presence in her life, always there to dry her tears when her mom was a post-party wreck.

  And of course, he’d been the one to stop Aurora Blaze from throwing six-year-old Jessie into a garbage dumpster.

  Now, it was Jessie’s turn to help him.

  Maintaining her job at the club would give her an insider’s look at their nerve center so she could somehow make this right for her uncle, hopefully without making it into a big news event. That would be too hard on Gramma and Grandpa after the media circus her mother had put them through.

  Jessie yawned at the next stoplight. She really shouldn’t be tired. Last night she’d had the most restful, dreamless sleep in months.

  And the best orgasm of her life.

  How humiliating that she’d fallen asleep afterwards. Especially when Nate had been so sweet about the whole thing. He could have woken her, but instead he’d tucked her under the covers and locked the door on his way out. She still didn’t understand how he’d managed that with the deadbolt on the inside, but whatever, it was a princess moment, and really, how many of those did a girl get in a year?

  At twenty-six, Jessie was only a few years older than most second-year law students, but she felt a major disconnect with females her age. Probably had to do with having a gorgeous and talented actress as a mother. A mother who’d floated in and out of rehab for almost two decades before dying tragically in a car crash at the height of her revived career.

  Yeah, that.

  And feeling responsible for her grandparents’ welfare. That kind of stuff trumped which club you were going to hit up on Friday night and what nail polish color was in vogue. Jessie looked at her hands with their unadorned fingernails, trying not to care.

  Maybe she felt older than her peers because as a bartender for the last four years she’d witnessed how alcohol was the grand equalizer. Pretty, perky blondes from the right side of the tracks puked just as unglamorously as the down-on-their-luck meth heads who were usually the victims of their own search for meaning, self-medicating their underlying fears, anxiety, pain…

  Life could be so unfair, and people could be so stupid. So cruel to one another.

  But every once in a while, life handed you a rainbow.

  Jessie shook off her morose thoughts as she smiled, thinking of Nate again. Perhaps he liked her for more than her rack. He’d certainly seemed upset when she’d been self-conscious, asking who’d made her feel ashamed. Like she’d ever tell him about the last guy she’d been with who’d poked at her belly and mimicked the Pillsbury Dough Boy giggle. She’d sent that guy packing so fast he was still zipping his pants out the door and down the hall.

  Nate was different. He seemed to understand and appreciate women in many respects. He actually had something going on between his ears. He’d even asked about her bucket list as he’d whipped up the quiche. The guy was either the whole enchilada, or a serious player.

  Why didn’t she think to ask him his last name?

  She’d ask the next time she saw him. Hopefully soon. For now, she needed to concentrate on meeting her new boss. She pulled into Mirage’s parking lot and took a deep breath. According to Uncle Mason, Mirage was now owned by Unholy Inc. What kind of business name was that? The conglomerate supposedly comprised hundred
s of clubs around the world. She wondered if all of them were run by manipulative jerks. A shiver of sharks. Well, she’d have to learn to eat sharks for breakfast if she wanted to be a success in the courtroom, right?

  JBlaze sure as hell knew how it was done.

  Jessie stepped out of her car and shut the door. Her mixologist persona might not appeal to everyone, but JBlaze was a safe place to channel all her fear and insecurities. The face she put on to placate a let’s-pretend-we-have-it-all-together society because no matter how much the tabloids had speculated on it, she’d never measure up—in looks, style, or charisma—to her famous mother. JBlaze was her show, her wall, a protective force that had swooped to her rescue when the paparazzi had poured in, cameras flashing, zooming in on her grief—and painfully guilty relief—when word of her mother’s death hit the news wires.

  More people should have a JBlaze of their own. Way cheaper than shrinks.

  And of course, JBlaze was who drew clientele at the club.

  Management had told her that’s why the new manager had kept her when he’d fired so many others who’d worked for her uncle. Why he’d kept her on, even though she was Mason’s niece.

  One thing was for certain. They’d be watching her.

  Wouldn’t it be something if the reason the new manager kept her was the very thing that took him down?

  A small smile tipped her lips until, halfway across the parking lot, she looked up at Mirage and faltered.

  Nate stared down at her from a second story window.

  From the boss’s office.

  Chapter 4

  Racing downstairs, Nate felt more out of control than he cared to admit. Watching Jessie get out of her car had fired his blood. When she’d spotted him, his enhanced eyesight had observed her eyes widening, her light coffee-colored skin paling. Then when the anger had bloomed across her lovely features, his gut had dropped into open space. He’d been wondering how to handle this delicate situation all night. She had to work for him. Her popularity as JBlaze, celebrated mixologist, would guarantee the high numbers they needed to make Mirage an instant success. A successful club meant lots of bodies, which would attract hungry demons faster than a T-bone at a carnivores-anonymous meeting.

  Unholy Inc’s nightclubs were the perfect cover for the Guardians’ work, and he was not going to be the partner who botched it up.

  So don’t let her get away.

  He met her at the door. She’d left her hair down. He loved the sexy bun she usually wore, but with the sassy pink winking in and out of her corkscrew curls today, she was a vision.

  “You’re the new manager, aren’t you?” she demanded.

  “I’m actually the owner of this particular location, but—”

  “You slick bastard! You totally played me. What are you doing driving around in a gas-guzzling old truck? Why aren’t you in a Mercedes like that black piece of work outside? Or is the truck only for slumming it in the projects with me?”

  Whoa. This Jessie was a whole different woman from the soft, self-conscious angel in his arms last night. “I happen to like my truck. I can load all manner of rubbish in the back. Besides, Mercedes aren’t my style. The shiny black number belongs to Spencer, one of my partners.”

  Her blue eyes glistened and burned. “You know everything about me because you have my personnel files. Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He brought a hand up to touch her hair, but she smacked it away. Right. This was definitely not going the way he’d hoped. “Apologies. I didn’t know who you were until a couple of days ago.”

  “And that’s supposed to make me feel better about last night?”

  “I usually don’t need to tell people I’m loaded to get them to like me,” he said.

  “Pfft. I wasn’t talking about your bank account. You’re my employer.” She shook her head, her eyes snapping and somehow…shadowed. “You’re every bit as arrogant and manipulative as Mason says you are.”

  Nate’s jaw tightened. The kitchen staff meeting was apparently over and several people were moving toward where he and Jessie stood by the entrance. “You sure you want to do this here?”

  “If I can’t confront a man for outright deception, how can I expect to get up in front of a judge and jury to argue a vulnerable client’s case? You’ve fired several good employees who’ve done nothing wrong. And for what? Just because you can.” She punctuated her delivery with a sharp jab of her finger on his chest.

  He took hold of her wrist. “Wrong. Every single person I dismissed is either a drug dealer or a user. That’s not only unacceptable, that could get me shut down.”

  She opened and closed her mouth, then frowned harder. “That’s a lie! Are you so perfect you’ve never needed a second chance? Does the power make you feel important?”

  “Upstairs in my office. Now.”

  “Hell no, I’m leaving. I refuse to sit idly by while good people get axed by a sly double dealer. But before I go, I suggest you start recruiting staff at the convent.”

  Nate didn’t know if he should laugh or give her a sound paddling. Unfortunately at that moment, Katherine Evangelista, Unholy Inc partner in charge of Aqua in Hawaii, strode toward them with controlled fury on her coldly beautiful face, her Jimmy Choos clicking ominously on the dance floor. Katherine paused at his side, looking Jessie up and down imperiously before turning to him, completely dismissing Jessie. “There’s really no point in keeping her, Nate. We want magnetic, professional, and classy. Her inferiority complex is completely justified.”

  Bloody hell. Nate felt more than saw Jessie blanch, then wind back up for a return lob. The Jessie from last night might be no match for Katherine’s ice bitchiness, but today there might be some serious bloodletting between these two. As Jessie opened her mouth, Nate squatted down, grabbed her about the waist, and hoisted her over his shoulder.

  Jessie smacked him in the ass before using her hand as a lever to lean up and yell at Katherine. “You weren’t held much as a baby, were you?”

  Bad and badder. Nate heard Katherine’s indrawn breath as his boots ate up the space to the men’s bathroom where he growled at a couple of guys who were at the urinals to beat feet. He set Jessie down and locked the door after the last man’s exit. When he turned around she slapped him across the cheek. He grabbed her wrist and got up in her face, his heart pumping at a skin-tingling rate. “Chill. Out,” he growled.

  “You used me!”

  “No, you have the facts skewed, Miss Blaze. If you’re honest with yourself, you’ll remember that I cooked while you studied, we drank, I got you off, and then I left. The. End.”

  “You’re still an asshole. You should have told me who you were. You knew you were my boss last night.”

  Jessie’s face was mutinous, her chest was heaving, and all he suddenly wanted to do was finish what he’d started in her apartment. Put his mouth on those gorgeous breasts, spread her legs and…

  Fuck. Make good choices.

  He should definitely not seduce an employee. That had never turned out well in the past. There was just something about Jessie he couldn’t resist.

  And those radiant colors last night as her taste was on his tongue…

  He ran a hand down his face. “Okay, maybe I should have told you, but I will only say this once. While I encourage and applaud irreverence while off the clock, don’t you ever run your mouth like that in front of my staff again.” The strict delivery he’d been going for failed as he imagined her cheeky mouth occupied with other things. Like licking the happy trail down from his navel.

  “Don’t worry. It won’t happen again because I’m never setting foot in this place again.”

  They stared at each other until he realized she felt the heat between them, too. The way her fingers curled into her thighs, the dilation of her pupils, the high color on her cheeks. “Why is your mouth your weapon when it could be used for much more pleasurable pursuits?” He couldn’t take his eyes from those plump lips which were now very much compressed.
>
  “Pleasurable oral pursuits, huh? How about singing? I’ll write you a song then—it’s called Go Screw Yourself.”

  When she tried to storm by him, he caged her against the wall with his whole body. “You’re not making this easy for either of us. That lady you insulted on the dance floor was one of my network partners.”

  “Not my problem. I’m not working here, remember?” She was short of breath and her full breasts rapidly rose and fell against his chest.

  Oh hell yeah, she was feeling this thing between them.

  He brought his hand to her cheek. Sniffed her neck. “You smell incredible. Coconut and berries. I like that.”

  Her breath caught. “B-back off.”

  He put some space between them. “Listen, I didn’t know that you worked here until two days ago when I reviewed your personnel file. The Jessie I knew before that moment was a sexy law student. Not a larger-than-life mixologist with her own show and a following from three states around.”

  “But last night! Really?”

  Visions of her silken skin made his lips curve. “What can I say? You’re irresistible.”

  “Nice line. I’m out of here.” She stepped around him toward the door.

  No way was he letting her walk away. “If you stay, I’ll make it worth your while.”

  She shook her head. “Like you made it worth Mason Jacob’s while? You gave him nothing but a bad reputation and an insecure future.”

  “He brought that on himself. You might want to reassess your loyalties, Jessie. Your uncle wouldn’t have had to sell this place if he wasn’t feeding heroin and Molly to every doper with enough cash. The bastard’s lucky we gave him a buyout instead of a court date.”

  “I plan to prove he was set up.” By you was her unsaid accusation.

  You saucy piece of work. Someone pounded on the door. “Clear off!” he hollered, then turned back to Jessie. “I didn’t set him up.” She raised an eyebrow. He brushed a hand through his hair. “Stay and I’ll raise your pay twenty-five percent. Then, for every year you work for me, I’ll pay a year of your tuition.”