Venom in the Skin_Deadly Trades Series_Book One

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by Jessica Gunn




  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Venom In The Skin

  Deadly Trades Series: Book One

  Jessica Gunn

  Contents

  About Venom in the Skin

  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

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  The Hunted (Hunter Circles Series Book One)

  World Key

  Also by Jessica Gunn

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 Jessica Gunn

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Deranged Doctor Design

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  ABOUT VENOM IN THE SKIN

  I’m Ava Locke.

  I have three dozen problems. But remaining the anonymous champion of Midnight’s fighting ring wasn’t one of them—until tonight when a change in the rules pitted me against a fellow Fire Circle Hunter, and I lost. Badly.

  Without the champion title masking my identity, my location is now a blinking neon sign beckoning Veynix, the demon who slaughtered my entire team. And this time, he’s leaving a new wave of victims on his path to me. But since the demon-fighting Fire Circle thinks I bargained for my life when the rest of my team was murdered, I’m fresh out of allies—except for the Hunter I fought in Midnight’s ring.

  For some reason, Mr. Tall-Dark-And-Handsome is on my side, despite clearly having a few skeletons in his own closet. But I’m not choosy because I can’t do this alone. Not if I want any chance of stopping Veynix from taking more innocent lives. And saving my own.

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  Chapter 1

  The crowd’s cheers kept my limbs moving despite the pain throbbing in my gut. Lucky shot. The same hit had sent me teetering to my knees in the middle of a fight, flashes of twisted metal and the impact of a car against the bottom of a ravine assaulting my mind.

  I blinked them away, swallowing those memories down so deep, they’d never resurface again. At least until I finally slept tonight.

  Another round of cheers roared across the audience above me. Too bad those praises weren’t for me. No, for the first time in four months, I was the contender bleeding on the floor.

  Crimson droplets dripped from the corner of my mouth onto my bound fists. Perfect tear-shaped drops that fell like his venom had from his knife. My bound hands shook, the leather wrapped around them barely enough to protect my hands from the beating they’d doled out. My head had begun to pound a minute or so ago. And the lighting above me, dim as it was, amplified the throbbing pain and tilted my vision.

  How long would memories of that fateful night haunt me, distract me in the ring?

  “Get up,” my opponent barked, hovering over me.

  I glared at his oversized form. He was stocky and muscled, with deep burgundy eyes and a twist of ether, a glowing white energy, around his fingers. Magik wasn’t allowed in Midnight’s fighting ring, but most users never kept it totally quelled. So even though this demon might not be using it actively, the ether energy still leapt from finger to finger. Magik was too innate to sit back and wait while its user fought almost to the death.

  Or so I heard. I hadn’t been afforded the magikal luxury.

  Midnight and its ring only had two rules. First, no magik. And second, most importantly, you never fought your own kind. Humans weren’t matched against humans, and demons weren’t matched against demons. Apparently, the conflict of interests in potentially killing a member of your own side in this god-forsaken war was too great.

  Cringing against the pain, I dug my fingers into the hard dirt ground and pushed myself up onto jelly legs. I needed an opening, one single second to get inside this demon’s space and land a solid blow, and this fight would be over. He was bigger than me, sure, but I’d fought larger. What made him any different?

  Without using the magik all demons had access to, the only thing that separated us humans from demons was a dark distortion of magik in their souls, a transformation that made them stronger and have longer natural lifespans. Though that was a loose term. They could die pretty easily. They just lived longer until killed.

  Now if this demon would bite the dust already.

  “Come on,” he purred. He barred his jagged front teeth, seemingly re-cut to look more like a demon from traditional myth than one of Aloysius’s lineage.

  Still, his yellowed teeth and dark, ruby eyes had my mind playing victim to a much more menacing demon’s memory. Of that demon’s touch, his kiss, his violence… his venom.

  My heartbeat jittered and I sucked in a series of quick, shallow breaths. I blinked again, squeezing my eyes shut until my opponent no longer resembled Veynix the Venomous. Murderer of my team. Destroyer of my life. Until my opponent looked like nothing more than some random demon off the street just as desperate for money and freedom as I was.

  It was funny, that. How despite the thousands of years’ old war between Good and Evil, between the Empire of Darkness and the Hunter Circles, that in the end, most demons and humans were the same.

  “Stop playing with me,” my opponent spat. “Either end this or die trying already. Don’t you think it’s time for someone else to take the title? Aren’t you tired of hiding, Masked Hunter?”

  I lifted my chin and fell into a ready stance. “I don’t quit.”

  Though I did just that once. And I was still paying for it with every single nightmare and flashback. That was what kept me coming to the ring night after night. The guilt and the fact that the Hunter Circles had already basically given up on me.

  But I’d been Midnight’s champion for three months now. I wasn’t going to lose that to some pathetic demon—no matter how much fun fighting in this ring was.

  Brian, the boyfriend I’d lost, used to love and lament in equal parts my “danger junkie” lifestyle. It was how we’d first met, and how he’d died in that car crash with the rest of our team. My Hunter Circles babysitter, Ben Hallen, had another phrase for it: “reckless endangerment.”

  O
ne of them was right.

  Admitting that nearly brought tears to my eyes. I steeled myself against more waterworks and shoved down my unresolved grief for another night. Grief had no place in the ring, not when the winnings from this fight would keep Will and me safe for that much longer.

  I hadn’t been able to save my team, but I’d keep my best friend alive any way I could. Especially if my bosses in the Fire Circle couldn’t. I’d sworn my life to the Hunter Circles. I deserved what fate I got. Will hadn’t, and so he didn’t. He was the only innocent one of the lot.

  The demon shrugged. “Suit yourself. It’s your funeral—”

  I lunged for him mid-shrug, landing an uppercut and a knee in his gut before backing away. Stunned, he blinked heavily, retreating a step to get his bearings. I showered a fresh barrage of attacks to his face and chest, landing a final kick that sent him sailing back a few feet.

  Sailing like our car had over the railing, over the ravine, sliding down the side of it. Rolling over and over and—

  My throat constricted around a scream as the demon skidded against the dirt ground.

  When the cloud of dust settled, the demon glared up at me, unmoving. “You—You—” But instead of freaking out, the demon’s face split into a grin and he laughed. And laughed and laughed, loud as a clown and just as insane as one. His dark and serious eyes didn’t match the sound, though.

  The echo of his laugh twisted in my ears, changing from high-pitched to a slow, low cackle that sent shivers down my spine.

  I closed my eyes briefly as Midnight’s referee, a demon named Dan Reed, grabbed my hand to declare me the winner for another night in a row.

  No. It’s not him.

  The laugh continued, sliding up and down my spine like a train on a track. When I opened my eyes, egged on by the crowd’s cheers, the demon below me wasn’t the one I’d been fighting.

  It was him. Veynix. His white-blond hair. His ruby-red eyes and yellow teeth on display thanks to an evil grin that stretched from ear to ear. A vial of tan liquid hung around his neck, half-empty. He ripped the vial from his neck and held it out to me.

  “Care to finish the job yourself?” Veynix said.

  My heart sped up and the thunderous applause became muffled and muted. My body shook as goosebumps tidal-waved up my arms and down my back.

  “Midnight’s champion wins, folks!” Dan Reed shouted.

  I barely heard it, though I did glance his way, to see if he was seeing what I did. That my opponent had changed form and shape. But his expression hadn’t changed; there was no sense of shock at all.

  A beam of bright white light shone down on us, a spotlight focusing on me, the winner. I blinked again, trying to shake the vision of Veynix away. This had to be a hallucination if Dan wasn’t reacting. Everyone knew who Veynix was, what he’d done to my team. Everyone.

  When I looked again, the demon I’d been fighting had returned, all remnants of Veynix’s visage gone.

  Dan clapped me on the back, snapping me back fully into sweet, elusive reality. He raised my right fist high into the air. “The Masked Hunter wins again!”

  It wasn’t the most original of names, but it was mine. Mine. All demons and Hunters wore masks in the ring. I’d knocked the demon’s off at the top of the round—an accident. Not like the demons cared so much for anonymity anyway.

  Me, however…

  I readjusted the mask over my face with my free hand and pulled back from Dan. I’d come dangerously close to losing tonight thanks to my flashbacks, and if my mask had come off while fighting, I’d be a dead woman. Sweat slicked my brow. I wiped it off with my arm, my fingers shaking. My pulse raced, blurring my vision as I looked out into the crowd again.

  Too close this time. Too damn close.

  The referee let me pace away a step before turning back to the crowd of wealthy demons, Hunters, and witches. Midnight’s clientele was the richest in the northeast. While not all of them knew the truth about those of us fighting in the ring, or that magik and demons were real, a number of them did. They also wore masks to hide their identities—more from each other than from us fighters.

  Demons and Hunters didn’t usually mix well, but when money was involved, apparently all things were possible. That’s what made Midnight a sort-of safe space, though it was a far cry from a true neutral zone.

  Metal rubbed against metal with a high-pitched squeal as the door to the ring drew upward. But instead of the clean-up crew that usually graced me with its presence after a win, dark shadows remained in the entryway. I peered closer into the blackness, but there was no indication anyone was coming through, much less those tasked with getting this demon medical attention. Not that he needed it. Demons healed faster than humans and were capable of surviving more mortal blows.

  Not that I was allowed to deal any of those. Besides, I hadn’t killed a demon in six months, despite still holding the title of Fire Circle Hunter.

  Dan circled back, taking in the crowd sitting above us, beyond the fence caging us in, up into the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. “Hold tight, folks. We have one big surprise for you all tonight.”

  My brow furrowed, but I swallowed down the reaction. Surprises weren’t unheard of, but usually the fighters knew when their sponsors or handlers had something planned. And Riker, my own handler and sometimes-sponsor, hadn’t told me anything.

  “The Masked Hunter has been champion now at Midnight for several months,” Dan continued, a sense of pride in his tone and posture. It was as if he’d been promoted from referee to owner of Midnight. “But as you all know, our sister league in Los Angeles has had their own masked champion for some time now.”

  Crimson was located in downtown L.A., hidden by the same magiks that had kept Midnight hidden under New York City for decades. You only found either league when the leagues wanted you to find them—and only if you could afford to play ball.

  Dan waved toward the tunnel leading out of the ring and into our ready rooms downstairs, deeper into Midnight’s already underground structure. “For our final fight tonight, fresh from his own championship win earlier this evening, I bring you: Blood Hunter, Champion of the West.”

  I wanted to gag on the cheesy-as-hell name, but something caught in my throat, stopping the reaction. Blood Hunter?

  “Dan?” I asked quietly, so as not to be picked up on his microphone. It wasn’t a fighter’s place to ask why they were pitted against an opponent, but…

  Dan waved again and a man strolled out from the dark tunnel, hands in his pockets as if he didn’t have a damn care in the world. A mask like mine hid his face from his nose upward, covering even his bone structure. I wasn’t a witch, so I didn’t see auras, but I didn’t need to.

  This man wasn’t a demon.

  When he looked up to wave at the crowd, putting on a huge grin and show for them, the lights from above caught the color of his eyes… which were distinctly not the burgundy that was standard for demons, but rather, a deep almond brown.

  My heart skipped a beat and I looked back to Dan for some sort of explanation for the sudden change in rules.

  Blood Hunter was human… making this an illegal fight.

  Chapter 2

  “What the hell is this?” I hissed at Dan. For decades, humans only fought demons, and demons went against witches and Hunters. That was the rule. The law in Midnight. The whole fighting ring was highly illegal to begin with, forget allowing Hunters to potentially kill other Hunters.

  And yet, Midnight and Crimson had broken that law.

  “Is Midnight really that strapped for cash that you couldn’t find a more exciting opponent for me that isn’t against the rules?” I asked. My head still pounded from the first fight, and everywhere I looked, I swear I saw traces of Veynix. A head of white-blond hair. A sour look. A shimmer of a glamour hiding one’s true identity.

  Dan made a show of turning around to address another side of the crowd, then leaned in and said, “Tonight was the closest match you’ve had in weeks. O
ur clients were getting bored. And when they grow bored, the sponsors get unhappy.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “This is bullshit. And illegal.”

  He winked at me. “Everything here is, sweetie. If you want to walk, there’s the door. No one will stop you.” He nodded toward the cage entrance.

  My eyes narrowed. “You know I won’t.” Even if I wanted to because this was bullshit, I had Will to think about. And his family. I had to get us both out of the country and safe, so that we could go ahead and guarantee his family’s safety.

  “Good,” Dan said. “Better hope that mask of yours doesn’t fall off.”

  I growled and spun away from him to glare at the other Hunter instead. He sauntered around, waving at the crowd. Plenty of Hunters fought in Midnight and Crimson. That wasn’t the big deal. And since our masks hid our identities—sort of—no one was the wiser.

  The most I could hope for was to win fast and without anyone discovering my identity.

  I straightened my back and pushed away the ache working its way into my muscles. Finally, the other Hunter turned to me and smirked.

  “An unusual fight,” he said, his voice thick and gravelly. The surety in his tone sent a prickling sensation down my back. My awareness shot up ten notches.

  Hands on my hips, I said, “To say the least. Try not to kill each other?”

  He shrugged off the leather jacket he’d been wearing and tossed it to the side. He cracked his knuckles and neck, then stood there, arms crossed on top of a forest-green shirt. “I make no promises. I’m not holding back.”

 

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