by Lori Devoti
“Miss me, Princess?”
A hint of a smile curved Raf’s lips, then was gone.
He stood, moved toward her so quickly Marina thought for a moment he’d shimmered. Then before she could breathe, before she could sort out what was happening, he pulled her against him.
“No regrets?” he asked, staring down into her eyes. “Not a one?”
Marina shook her head. His fiery scent tickled at her memories, made her want to close her eyes…go back in time.
Her traitorous body swayed toward him. Her knees tried to buckle, but she forced herself to stay upright, fought to ignore the desire pounding through her.
Then Raf’s lips covered hers….
Books by Lori Devoti
Silhouette Nocturne
* Unbound #18
* Guardian’s Keep #32
* Wild Hunt #41
Holiday with a Vampire II #54
“The Vampire Who Stole Christmas”
* Dark Crusade #62
The Hellhound King #82
LORI DEVOTI
grew up in southern Missouri and attended college at the University of Missouri-Columbia, where she earned a bachelor of journalism. However, she made it clear to anyone who asked, she was not a writer; she worked for the dark side—advertising. Now twenty years later, she’s proud to declare herself a writer and visits her dark side by writing paranormals for Silhouette Nocturne.
Lori lives in Wisconsin with her husband, daughter, son, an extremely patient shepherd mix and the world’s pushiest Siberian husky. To learn more about what Lori is working on now, visit her Web site at www.loridevoti.com.
THE HELLHOUND KING
LORI DEVOTI
Dear Reader,
Thanks for purchasing The Hellhound King.
This book takes you into Alfheim, home of the elves. A lot has changed in Alfheim in the past century. The land lost its rulers, and a new body, the elf lords, has moved in. But the residents of Alfheim aren’t happy.
In The Hellhound King, Marina, whom you may have met in Dark Crusade, is brought back to her home against her will. Raf, a hellhound, also first introduced in Dark Crusade, follows her—though not with entirely good intentions.
When they get to the land of light, they instead discover a land in chaos. A land neither wants to visit much less embrace. They also discover secrets and a connection to each other and Alfheim no one can deny.
And in Alfheim, the land they think they want to leave behind, dreams they’ve never dared to dream come true.
I hope you enjoy it.
Lori Devoti
P.S. Stop by my Web site at www.loridevoti.com.
Dedicated to Sherman and Meriwether,
the two best writing companions any author
could ask for. I miss you both.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Tara Gavin, Shawna Rice and everyone else at Harlequin Enterprises who made this book possible. Thanks also go to my agent Holly Root.
And huge hugs of gratitude to Jenna Reynolds, Kathy Steffen and Meagan Hatfield for listening to my many whines in person and to Ann Christopher, Sally MacKenzie, Eve Silver, Caroline Linden, Laura Drewry and Kristi Astor for listening to me moan virtually. You all make the ride a lot easier!
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Prologue
Gunngar
M arina ran her hand over Raf’s chest. His heart beat slow and steady under his skin. She pressed her lips to the muscled hardness and breathed in his scent.
Fire and smoke…as if a blaze smoldered deep inside his body.
She’d never met a hellhound before this. She’d been guarded her entire life, told how to live, who to associate with—and hellhounds were most definitely not allowed.
Her uncle, her sister, the elf lords…none of them would appreciate how Raf made her feel…none of them would care.
She took advantage of his sleep to trail her fingers down his chest, to soak in the raw beauty of him.
He stirred and her heart stopped for a second, as if she were at risk of being caught doing something she shouldn’t. The sheet draped over him slipped lower, revealing a new wealth of bare masculine skin. Her heart resumed its beating, sped faster.
She pressed her lips to his skin again, let her tongue dart out and taste him…to see if his taste was as tantalizing as his scent.
It was…more so…
She leaned over him, her platinum hair hanging loose, forming a curtain around her face and brushing over his chest.
Enough torture, she would wake him…remind herself he was real and here with her, for her…the only male she’d ever known who loved her, wanted to be with her because of her not who she was in Alfheim, or what she could do for him.
A rustle of sound outside the door halted her. She gathered her hair in one hand and twisted it into one long bunch. Just as quickly, she picked up a robe from the floor and slipped it up her arms, tied it at her waist.
Then she went to the door.
The hallway was empty, but sitting on the ground, leaning against the stone door jamb was a tiny plastic box. With a quick look around, she picked it up and hid it in the sleeve of her robe.
Inside the room, Raf was still asleep.
She hesitated, but continued past him, her bare feet making no sound on the cold stone floors. A benefit of being an elf…she could move as silently as a feather drifting on a breeze when needed.
And for some reason, right now she sensed she had that need.
There was a small bathroom attached to her sleeping quarters. She went inside, turned on the water and pushed the button marked Play on the box.
Raf’s voice, but not with the playful rough tone she knew and loved, instead with a hard almost cold business edge spoke from the box.
“I’ve seen no sign she isn’t doing as you wish. She’s carrying out your orders—hunting the witches.”
“Has she caught any?”
At the second voice, Marina stiffened. She knew the accent, if not the male. An elf. Raf was talking to an elf.
A pause, then, “No.”
“You will tell us when she does.” An order not a request.
“And anything else she does. We missed your report yesterday—we don’t want to miss another one, not if you expect your pay.”
Marina’s skin went cold and her fingers went limp. The recorder tumbled onto the stone floor. Shattered—just like her trust.
The courtyard was quiet, but guards were lurking in the shadows. Marina knew, because she had ordered them to be there.
She licked her lips and glanced around the courtyard.
It wasn’t too late. She could still call off the guards, but what would be the point? Raf had lied to her. She could never trust him, and just like her, he was trapped here in Gunngar. They were trapped here together.
The doorway to headquarters opened and Raf stepped out. His dark hair gleamed almost blue in the noonday sun. His shoulders brushed against a doorway built for elves, Svartalfars and dwarves to pass through, not a broad-shouldered hellhound male.
Marina s
ucked in a breath and forced a smile onto her face. Used it to disguise the tears that formed behind her eyes and the shake of her hands.
She jabbed her fingernails into her palms, concentrated on that pain instead of what she was about to do, had to do.
Stupid lovesick fool that she was, she hated herself, when she should hate him.
Chapter 1
A nger and anticipation warred inside Raf Dolg as his gaze clocked each movement the lithe elfin princess made. Even dressed in dirty dungarees and a stained over-sized shirt advertising some human sports team, Marina Adal was as alluring as ever. He gripped the tree in front of him, his fingers digging into the bark as he spied on her.
Her scent was different than he remembered it, but then her emotions were different, too. The sharp tang of confidence that had emanated from her was gone.
Good. She shouldn’t be confident, and she had no reason to be. Marina Adal, elfin princess, had a lesson to learn, and he was here to teach it to her.
She had taken his freedom from him; now he would return the favor.
Marina Adal jerked the heavy bucket up from the sidewalk.
“Why won’t you help me?” she murmured to the witch inside her. “Do you like existing like this? Hiding?”
The witch whose spirit Marina had taken inside her own body refused to speak. Marina would have almost believed the witch, Amma, hadn’t really made the transfer, was still locked in that needle back in Gunngar, but every so often, she’d feel her. A tickle. A frown. Always some ugly emotion.
Amma hated Marina. Because of the act she had played in Gunngar, everyone hated Marina now.
Marina had accepted that, made the best of it by striking before being struck. But even that hadn’t worked.
Her body was host to one of the most powerful witches in the nine worlds, but she was cleaning toilets at a dive motel in the human world. Stuck here until Amma decided to show herself and release her powers.
Dirty water sloshing out of the bucket onto her leg, she teetered toward a small grassy area next to the office. As she turned the corner of the building, she caught sight of movement behind her. She turned, the knife she kept hidden under her sleeve instantly moving to her hand.
A cat jumped from a tree on the other side of the parking lot. The animal landed with elflike grace on the hood of a car.
Marina bit the inside of her cheek. She was jumpy, had been since she had escaped Gunngar.
Her uncle would surely have heard of her disappearance by now, the elf lords, too. All would be looking for her—and she most definitely didn’t want to be found. Not yet. Not weak.
Raf watched Marina slosh the bucket over onto its side. As dingy water swirled onto the grass, she played with the blade that had appeared almost magically from her sleeve. Perhaps it had. Perhaps the witch Amma was working with her.
His body stilled; his mind whirled.
If Marina had Amma’s powers in addition to her own elfin talents, she would be near unstoppable. But if that were true, why would Marina be here, waiting on humans?
Content she couldn’t have Amma’s powers, he went back to watching her, to enjoying this part of his hunt…anticipating what was to come.
The bucket empty, Marina placed her foot on its bottom edge and flipped it with her toe into an upright position. A lock of her platinum hair slipped from under the scarf she had tied around her head. In that second, Raf saw the elf princess that he’d known in Gunngar—the confident beauty who had treated him as an equal, inspired his trust. A band tightened around his chest. He gripped the bark in his hand and squeezed. Lies.
The bark nothing but dust in his hands, he let the bits fall to the ground and ran his palms over his twill pants. He took a step forward; he’d stayed hidden long enough, used the hellhound talent for blending long enough. Time to face Marina—or more accurately, force her to face him.
As his heel hit the cement sidewalk in front of him, two dark forms dropped from the motel’s low roof. Stretched between their hands was a shimmering net.
A snarl lifted Raf’s lip.
Someone was trying to steal his prey.
A whoosh sounded behind Marina. She spun on the ball of her foot, the knife slipping into one hand while the other reached up to ward off any approaching blow.
Two dark-skinned males, svelte by human standards, stocky by elf, stood in front of her. Svartalfars, dark elves, mercenaries. One motioned to the other.
Her heart fluttered. They’d found her.
A sheet of shimmering material…a net…appeared between the two.
Marina took a step back, her knife ready. She recognized the tool, had used it herself. Laced with elfin magic, the net would douse any powers that lay beneath it, render a shape-shifter unable to shimmer, and a witch unable to cast a spell.
It would make her helpless…
She gripped the knife, kept it secure but not tight—ready to throw or slash, whichever would serve her best.
Then she waited, but not for long.
The Svartalfars moved closer, sideways. One reached into his pocket, pulled out a blade of his own. The weapon snapped and popped with electricity.
They meant to stun her, wrap her helpless into the net, then what? Marina blinked away the thoughts, concentrated instead on what she could do to avoid capture.
Her gaze darted behind the pair to the tree the cat had leapt from. It was far, but not too far, not for an elf. She tucked the blade back up her sleeve, bent her legs and forced every bit of energy she had into an upward motion. Her hands held forward, she focused on the lowest branch. As the rough bark bit into her palms, she saw light shimmer below her.
She swung up and onto the tree limb, crouched there, like a bird. From her perch, she twisted and looked down. The Svartalfars had dropped the net. One lay unconscious on the ground. The other still stood, but an arm, solid as the branch she stood on, was pinched around his neck.
Her breath caught. For a second, she could only stare. She knew the male holding her attacker—Raf Dolg, the hellhound who’d wandered into Gunngar. Who she’d let closer than she’d ever let anyone. Who had lied to her and spied on her until she found him out and ordered him locked up.
The hellhound stared at her, too. His dark gaze was hard, unforgiving.
Her hands balled into fists. Unfair, since he’d betrayed her first. But he didn’t know she’d discovered his lies. She hadn’t explained. Why would she?
As the thoughts spun through her head, Raf twisted the dark elf’s neck, let him fall lifeless to the ground. And all the time his gaze held hers, angry and intense, just like the hellhound himself.
When he bent to retrieve the net, she blew a breath out of her mouth and forced her legs to move. Run. She had to run. Her savior, Raf, was far more dangerous than the males he’d just protected her from.
Raf dropped the dark elf to the ground. He’d killed neither of the males…a kindness he was sure they wouldn’t repay given a chance. It was the least he could do, though, having stolen their tool from them—and soon their bounty.
He looked up. Marina had already skittered out of view, over the motel’s roof, moving with the speed and sure-footedness of one of the multitude of squirrels that seemed to populate the human world.
He took his time rolling the net into a small bundle, so small it tucked neatly into the back pocket of his pants. Elves might not be the friendliest of beings in the nine worlds, but they did make intriguing toys.
And…he glanced up…Marina’s scent was even now beginning to wane…equally intriguing females.
Marina’s feet made little sound as she raced over the flat roof of the motel. When she hit the drainpipe-lined edge, she spared only a second to glance back over her shoulder. No sign of Raf or the dark elves. If she was lucky the hellhound had somehow became entangled in the net, lost his powers to shimmer at least for a while.
Even as the thought whirled into her brain, she tossed it aside as ludicrous. Not Raf. No, he would be after her, on her an
d soon.
She squatted and prepared to jump onto the asphalt below. Then she paused. What would Raf expect of her? To run, of course. Only an idiot wouldn’t when pursued by a hellhound.
She stood, glanced around again. Cars crept down the street beside her. People moved in and out of the café across the road. Everything appeared normal. No one seemed aware of what was happening only a few yards from where they went about their mundane human lives.
Oblivious beings, humans. Easy to catch, she guessed. But she wasn’t human. She was an elf. Time to think like one.
She pivoted slowly, quietly, and started creeping back to the area from where she’d come. Raf thought he knew what she would do, but he didn’t. Didn’t know her, not really.
Back atop the office, she gazed down. The dark elves were there, faces flat on the concrete, but Raf and the net were both missing. She leaned forward, checking to make sure the hellhound wasn’t hiding under the overhang, then swung herself down to the ground and let out a relieved breath.
She would gather her things and leave. She would find another part of the human world to hide in. Cars came and went along the freeway only a few yards away day and night. It wouldn’t be hard to convince a driver to transport her wherever he or she was going.
But first…she took a step toward the downed Svartalfar…she wanted to know who had sent them, who was this close on her trail.
The dark elf wore close-fitting pants, a shirt and a padded vest. All obviously of Svartalfar design. But the net, it had been pure Alfheim.