by Cynthia Eden
Her shoulders hunched as she stared down at the body. The knife was in his chest. The back of his head had smacked right into the pavement, and his leg was twisted beneath him.
The motorcycle had rolled twice. Now it lay in a wreck just a few feet away.
“Bitch . . .” Not a snarl this time. Only a whisper.
Jade licked her lips. “You should have just walked away.” Didn’t he understand? Brandt wanted her back for a reason.
Because I’m as screwed up as he is.
Killing had come too easily for her. All she’d needed was a little guidance. Brandt had been so willing to guide her.
As she turned away from the demon, Jade could have almost sworn that the light scent of flowers teased her nose. She paused and glanced back. The demon’s eyes were still open. Still on her.
“I didn’t want to kill you,” she said and sadness made her words heavy, “but I’m not ready to die.”
The flowery scent seemed to deepen. She grabbed the money. Left the knife in his chest.
And walked away.
Brandt found the demon’s body. Tossed like garbage in the street. He bent and studied the knife that was still buried hilt-deep in the demon’s chest.
Jade had been shopping. The woman always liked her silver. He touched the handle, being careful to keep his hands away from that burning silver blade.
The demon gasped.
Still alive.
Brandt smiled. “You called. You told me that you had my Jade.” He made a point of glancing around the empty street. No partying here. No celebrating. Just death. “But I don’t see her.”
The demon tried to talk. Blood gurgled from his lips.
“Why don’t I see her?” Brandt asked and gave a little shake of his head. “I paid you money—very good money at that—to keep her for me.” He didn’t trust his pack anymore. Not with her. They kept screwing up, every damn time. So he’d branched out. Hired muscle.
And Jade had driven a silver knife into the guy’s chest.
Oh, but he fucking loved her.
“Now where the hell is William?” He demanded. William was the demon in charge of this group of killers. The big boss demon. “If he doesn’t have her . . .”
But he’d seen the demon’s lashes twitch. Brandt stilled. “Where’s William.” Not a question. A demand this time.
“D-dead . . .” A gurgle of sound.
“By Jade’s hand?” Impressive. She was gaining new skills. He’d suspected she always liked the blood, but two demon kills in one night was just taking her game up to a whole new level.
“B-bastard . . . with . . . her . . .”
No, no, that was damn well not what he wanted to hear. Brandt drove that knife down as hard as he could. It ripped past bone and flesh and sank into the pavement beneath the demon’s body.
No more gurgles. No more whispers. Just wide open eyes and a demon that was looking at hell. Brandt sure hoped the guy enjoyed the view.
Riley paced behind him. “You think it’s the same man?”
Brandt surged to his feet. Fuck yes.
And was the man screwing her? He was sure killing for her. Twice now. And why else would he kill, why else would he get involved? The unknown asshole had to be fucking her. “Find him,” it was hard to speak as a man when the beast inside was snarling so loudly. “Get every hunter we have in this city—and find him.”
“You want him dead or alive?” Riley asked quietly as he backed up a space.
Dead or alive—the same question that had been asked about Jade.
“Alive.” Because he’d be the one to kill the bastard. Jade would watch.
Just as she’d watched before.
She likes the blood, too.
Revelers still packed the streets of New Orleans. The parades had ended hours ago, but as Jade shoved her way through the streets, she knew the folks celebrating on Bourbon Street didn’t really care that the beads weren’t flying anymore.
Laughter floated in the air on an alcohol breeze. Women hung off balconies, flashing for the crowd below.
She hadn’t gone back to her place. At this point, Jade just wasn’t sure if the small apartment was still safe. First the pack had come for her, and then she’d learned about the demons.
Her temporary anonymity in this city had definitely been blown to hell.
Jade was afraid that if she went back to that apartment, she’d find another hunter waiting for her.
The city wasn’t a haven for her. Not anymore.
“Hey, baby.” A big, smiling guy jostled into her. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“No, thanks.” She pushed away from him. The last thing she wanted was to get chummy with some frat boy looking for a good time.
“But, baby!” Now he sounded hurt. “I’ve got—”
The crowd around her cheered. The women on the balcony to the right had flashed. Again.
“You’ve got the wrong woman,” she told him. “Go try your luck with someone else.” Maybe one of the Ms. Flashies.
His eyes narrowed on her, and she realized that, unfortunately, he wasn’t as drunk as she’d thought. “Holy shit, is that blood on you?” frat guy demanded, now with a note of shock in his voice.
And, yes, yes, it was. Demon blood could be a bitch to get out of a girl’s shirt, too. No matter how many washes, that thick stuff just stayed.
This time when she yanked away from the frat boy, he let her go. Actually, he all but shoved her in his haste to get away. Hmm. Future reference note. Show a little blood and the guys will vanish fast.
She pushed through the crowds as she wound her way up to the nearest open apartment that she could find. Lucky for her, some folks invited the world in to their homes for a Mardi Gras party.
A good, nonstop party was going on right at the end of the street. She slipped inside the open doors. Found a bedroom. Two couples were making out on the bed. She ignored them, they ignored her, and she grabbed a clean shirt from the closet.
Jade ditched her bloody clothes and dressed quickly. The top was a little tight across the breasts, but she wasn’t about to be complaining.
Not even close.
She eased up the stairs and then out onto the balcony. Her gaze swept the crowd below. She saw a large, rippling mass of bodies. Laughter. Drinking. Kisses.
Then . . .
Az.
He stood in the middle of the crowd, silent, strong, and he was staring right up at her.
Her heart seemed to stop. His stare was so hot, even across that stream of bodies. It almost seemed like she could feel the burn of his gaze and the heat from his touch.
Fear? Yeah, she feared him. How could she not, after everything that had happened? But, she wanted him, too. In that instant, Jade realized that she wanted Az far more than she feared him. Dangerous, but . . .
She wasn’t exactly the type to play things safe. Her reckless side was part of her problem.
He’s the key. Use him. They can’t hurt him.
But. . .
But her gaze darted over Az’s shoulder, and she saw two familiar figures moving toward him through the wild crush of the crowd. The figures were steadily closing in on their prey. Az was focused on her. He didn’t even know that danger was right there.
Riley and Anton, two of Brandt’s vicious packmates, were stalking toward him. Their gazes were on him. Even far away, she could see the flash of their claws.
“No!” Jade shouted as she gripped the wrought-iron balcony railing.
But the crowd below her just cheered. Az didn’t move.
He’d touched and killed, but what would happen when he didn’t have the chance to strike first?
Jade didn’t want to find out. “Riley, Anton!” She screamed their names. “Here I am, bastards!”
More roars from the crowd. They would yell at anything. But she knew the shifters heard her because their gazes ripped away from Az and locked right on her.
“Leave him alone.” She knew her words would be lost to th
e madness of the crowd, but those shifters with their enhanced senses, if they couldn’t hear her actual words, then they’d still be able to read her lips.
Riley smiled at her, and shook his head. Then he brought his claws up to his throat and mimicked slicing across his neck.
Bastard.
Az was not going to die while she watched.
CHAPTER FOUR
The crowd’s roar drowned out her screams. Az began walking toward her. The shifters kept stalking behind him.
No, no, no.
“Behind you!” Jade yelled as loudly as she could. “They are right behind you!”
Az didn’t glance back. This was not working. Her gaze darted below her. Okay, that was just a one story drop. She’d survive that fall, right? Maybe with a few broken bones, maybe just with some bruises. She could do this.
She had to do this.
Drawing in a shaky breath, Jade climbed over the railing. The crowd cheered louder. Louder.
She jumped.
And was caught by three guys. What the hell? They swung her around, cheering.
Crazy assholes. But they had just saved her some hurt. So she placed a fast kiss on the nearest cheek and leapt out of those cradling arms. Then Jade started running for Az. “They’re after you, they’re—”
A gunshot ripped through the crowd. The blast of the gunshot finally—finally—brought silence.
Silence that lasted for only a moment’s time because then another shot thundered in the air.
Jade’s eyes were on Az so she saw the jerk of his body as the bullet tore into him.
Then the screaming started, as the shock melted away from the revelers. The humans scrambled, running, shrieking, dropping their drinks and their beads as they rushed away from the gunfire.
Desperate to get to Az’s side, Jade shoved her way through them. My fault. This was what happened to men who tried to play her white knight.
They wound up stained with blood.
Her side ached as she rushed toward him. He was slowly turning around now, finally facing the bastards who were after him. Too late.
Another crack of gunfire. She was close enough to hear the thud as the second bullet sank into Az’s flesh.
His body trembled.
“Stop!” Jade screamed at Riley because he was the jerkoff with the gun. “Leave him alone!”
She grabbed Az’s arm and pulled him close. Blood poured from a wound near his shoulder, and she knew he had at one bullet in his back. “We have to get you out of here!”
She could already hear sirens. The cops were responding fast this time. No big surprise. No one wanted a slaughter during Mardi Gras. That was bad for business.
Her gaze flew to the left, the right. There wasn’t any nearby cover for them, and Riley still had his gun up. Only it wasn’t aimed at Az any longer. It was aimed right at her.
Riley smiled.
But she knew bullshit when she saw it. “You can’t kill me,” she snarled at him, not even a little bit afraid of what he might do. “Because the minute you do, you’re dead.”
She understood how this game worked. Riley wasn’t an alpha. He was a good little soldier shifter who did exactly as he was told.
A muscle jerked in Riley’s jaw as he stalked closer. “Maybe I can’t kill you . . .” Rage beat beneath the rumbling words. She knew that, oh, yeah, he wanted to murder her, but if he did, then Brandt would rip the skin from his body. “But I can still make you bleed.”
The gun wasn’t pointed at her head anymore. He’d dropped it, and taken aim at her leg.
She saw his sharpening canines when he smiled. “Let’s see how fast you can run with a bullet in—”
He didn’t get to finish his threat. A ball of freaking fire rolled toward him.
Riley and Anton leapt back.
The crowd shrieked even louder because, sure, bullets and fire would flip most people the hell out.
She pulled Az’s arm around her shoulder. Then she tucked her body close to his. Before the shifters regrouped, she had to get him away from there.
And she had to dodge the cops. There was a little matter of a few dead bodies from her past that she didn’t exactly have time to deal with right then.
Those explanations could wait for another day.
“Come on,” she whispered. Wow. The guy was heavy.
He didn’t speak, but his hand tightened around her shoulder, and Az let her lead him through the crowd. Luckily, after a few stumbling steps, she and Az soon blended with the fleeing throng.
Two streets over, she found a car. An older, black BMW that sat alone beneath a broken street lamp. Leaving that ride alone in that spot was a bad mistake.
The driver’s loss.
She lifted up with her right foot and smashed in the back window. An alarm immediately blasted. Easing away from Az, she unlocked the door, hopped around inside the vehicle, and two seconds later, she was under the dash. It barely took a breath for her to stop the alarm and get the engine flaring to life.
She might just be human, but she had some serious skills.
Thanks to Brandt.
Damn him.
Jade helped Az into the BMW. Well, helped, shoved, same thing. The guy still wasn’t talking. With the bullets in him, maybe he was just in too much pain to talk right then.
The shifters had been playing with him.
Those sadistic jerks had just wanted to hurt Az. No doubt on Brandt’s order. Because if they’d wanted him dead . . .
Riley was a good shot. If he’d wanted Az on a morgue slab someplace, he would have simply blasted a bullet in his brain.
While I watched.
Those sick shifters had to be stopped.
“Just hold on,” she told Az as she yanked the gearshift back and spared a fast glance in the rearview mirror. “I’ll get you someplace safe and dig those bullets out.” Worried, Jade glanced at him.
He wasn’t slumping in the seat. He was looking right at her, with a faint frown pulling his brows low.
Crap. “Are you in shock?” Great, the last thing that—
He reached into the gaping hole on his shoulder and yanked out the bullet. When his fingers dug into the torn flesh, the contact made a sucking sound that raised goose bumps all along her body. After just a moment of searching, he had the bloody bullet gripped in his fingers.
Jade swallowed. “I’m guessing that means you aren’t in shock.”
He rolled down his window and tossed out the bullet.
“Okay then . . .” Now wasn’t the moment to gripe at the guy for littering. Blood prioritized right then. She turned her attention to the road. Sirens were screeching on the next block, and there had to be some folks from that crowd who would be sober enough to provide descriptions of the shooters—and of Az. Her foot pressed down on the accelerator. Nice and slow. All of the glass had busted out of the back side window, so if anyone looked at it, they’d just think the window was rolled down. They wouldn’t realize she’d done a smash-and-grab.
As long as she played it cool, she had this.
Then he appeared.
Brandt walked out of the darkness. Tall. Muscled. A walking, talking fantasy. No. Not a fantasy, a nightmare.
How could someone so handsome be so fucking crazy?
He crossed his arms over his chest. Stood in the middle of the road.
Waited.
She slammed on the brakes.
“Who is he?”
Ah, now, finally, Az spoke. Jade’s fingers whitened around the steering wheel. “A dead man.” She shoved her foot down on the accelerator as far as it would go. Dead.
The BMW lurched forward. The scent of burning rubber filled her nose. Fast, faster . . .
The motor snarled.
Brandt cocked his head and grinned at her.
Did he think she was playing chicken? After the hell he’d put her through? She wasn’t going to swerve away from him.
The collision wouldn’t kill him. The guy was too strong for that. But sh
e wanted him to hurt.
Wait. Dammit. Was she really becoming just like him?
No. Won’t be. Can’t be.
Brandt leapt away just as she swerved.
Her heart slammed in her ears, and the rough drumming was so wild that it shook her chest. She spun around the approaching curve too fast, and the car lurched on two tires.
Swearing, Jade jerked the steering wheel and barely managed to keep the car steady. Risking a quick glance back, she saw that Brandt had picked himself off the pavement. He was staring after her.
And the tough shifter wasn’t smiling anymore.
The accelerator was already flat on the floor. Time to get the hell out of that city.
Good thing she’d already scoped out the area and come up with a backup plan. She did that whenever she was in a new city. For those instances—like this one—when she needed to run fast and seek cover.
Az reached for her hand. His blood coated her fingertips. “Who was he?” Anger—no, more like rage—thickened beneath his words.
But she’d put a target on the guy’s back, so he deserved the truth and his rage. “Brandt Dupre.” A brief pause. “He runs the most powerful panther shifter pack in the South-east.” Hell, probably the whole U.S. “He’s vicious, smart, and he loves to make his prey suffer.”
Az didn’t let her go, and she could feel the weight of his stare on her.
They swept past the tall tombs of the cemetery. The heavy monuments rose over the old wall, dark, cold.
“Who is he . . .” Az asked, then pushed, “to you?”
“He’s the man who took my life away.” Everything she’d had. Everything she’d been. “And he’s the asshole who’s hunting me now. Brandt isn’t ever going to stop. He’s going to keep coming, keep attacking until I’m dead—”
“Or until he is.” Flat, final words.
Her gaze flew to him.
Az’s skin wasn’t even pale. He’d taken bullets, lost a ton of blood, and he sat there, eyes glittering with intensity and dark determination carved onto his face.
“This isn’t your fight,” she told him, her voice quiet but firm. “You can’t understand . . . you have no idea what they’re like.” He might think he knew about the paranormals out there, but Brandt’s pack was different. Savage. She’d never encountered anyone else like them.