by T. F. Walsh
His gaze shifted to Cary, who studied the ground alongside her, staring at empty space. There was nothing there, just her, him, and the two jumper demons; one was still trapped by Noose.
Cary scratched her head before glancing up, her expression a mixture of confusion and fear. “Still sucking on your cancer sticks?” she asked.
“If something’s gotta kill me. I’d rather it be the cigarettes than these things.” He tipped his chin at the dark mist fizzling up and pouring out of the possessed man’s body.
The black miasma shriveled out of existence, morphing into fast flying moths. Levi batted them away. They exploded into dust. “Disgusting insects.”
After retracting Noose from around the man’s head, he moved him to the sidewalk next to the other possessed guy. Together, they slumped against the brick wall. Levi then seized the pebble from the street and offered it to Cary.
She took it and shoved it into her pocket without a word. He expected a remark or a reaction, but nothing. Something was up with her. Silence and distance replaced her usually flirty and snappy personality.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Yeah. I swear those two were waiting for us.” She didn’t move from her spot near the store front, but kept glancing at the space next to her. What was she staring at?
He scanned the sidewalk, the shadows, and both sides of the road. Nothing. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She snapped her attention back to him and half smiled. “Yeah.”
Levi was startled by a loud sound coming from an adjacent street. He jerked around to find a white car zipping past. Exhaling, he unclenched his fists and thought about how he couldn’t wait for this shit night to end.
Four beasts. That was a new record.
He pushed strands of hair off his face and tucked Noose on his belt. The demon he’d just fought insisted Levi was going to Hell with him. People couldn’t physically be taken into hell, so what was it going on about?
And when the possessed man had Cary pinned against the wall, Levi had heard him snarl, “I know what you are.”
Was that why Cary had freaked out? Demons knew what hunters were, but not usually who they were. Surely, the one attacking Cary lied. (The fuckers did excel at lying.) But Cary knew that, so why was she letting it get to her?
She stepped closer and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Blood smeared across her cheek.
“My place is close. We’ll get you cleaned up,” he said.
“I’m fine. Just a small bump and a bloody nose. I’ll survive.” Crouching low, Cary checked the man’s pulse. “He’s alive.”
“The other’s alive, too.” Levi glanced over at the older guy propped up against the wall. “Look, I've seen you exhausted before, but never like this. Let me get you off the streets.” Maybe then she'd open up.
“I’ll call paramedics,” she said, “but we should leave. Not in the mood for questions. From you or them.”
“Yeah, all right. Our names will end up on two hospital reports tonight already, and it's too complicated to explain how we just happened to stumble across several unconscious men on the same night.” He smiled at her. “Talk about suspicious activity.”
Cary’s hands quivered by her side, her posture wavered. She shifted closer but tripped over her own foot and stumbled forward. Levi lunged forward to catch her.
Her hands shot up as a barrier between them, and he halted.
“What’s going on with you?” He glanced at the sidewalk around her, curious about what she was staring at. The pavement? “Did you hit your head, hard?”
When she glanced up at him, Levi saw the fear behind her eyes. She offered him a wary smile, reminding him how close she had come to death tonight. The idea of never seeing her smile or hearing her soft voice stung.
Losing her would be unbearable, and the built-up rage from the fight still burned through his veins. For the past few months, he’d blinded himself to how much Cary meant to him, and now it slapped him in the face. She always had this effect on him, even if she pushed him away. He should have gone and seen her in Detroit instead of hiding in Ann Arbor.
What if she got hurt or worse? Marcos was dead. A memory shoved forward in Levi’s mind: Marcos attacking him with the kitchen knife. Marcos sneering, growling. It confused Levi at first, but he had no time to think. “Act fast and shoot him” seemed like the only option at the time.
Afterward, the putrid demon had expelled itself from his friend’s body, and Levi didn't know what any of it meant.
He was tossed into a juvie psych-ward while the police processed the forensic evidence with the speed of snails on holiday. Weeks later, he was cleared of suspicion of murder... only because they couldn’t prove it wasn’t self-defense. After a few months, Argos showed up, helped him understand what demons were, and warned him to keep his mouth shut about what he’d seen. They trained him in demon hunting, and Levi would have sworn they were the good guys, until he learned the truth.
Once Argos hired him, everything changed. He dropped out of school and started hunting demons. He’d been determined to avenge his best friend’s senseless death, and he wasn’t willing to let anything stop him. Not then.
And if Cary was a target, certainly not now.
Her voice snapped his attention back to the present. “Shall we head off?”
He nodded, pulled out his phone, and made a quick call to 911.
With his arm snaked around Cary’s waist, he drew her near, but she nudged him away and started walking. “I can manage on my own,” she said. “I’m not that hurt.” She pulled away from him and stumbled a few feet before catching her balance.
He was all too aware of the physical reaction his body had around her. Speeding pulse, sexual overdrive tightening his pants… Yet it was more than that. Every fiber in his body demanded he protect her and prevent what happened to Marcos.
Plus, if he was to ever choose a partner in the hunting business, he'd pick Cary. He was confident in her hunting abilities. Except tonight, Cary’s behavior worried him. She pushed him away more than usual—and shut him out. If something scared her, he had to help her. Whatever it took.
“You can barely stand on your feet.” In the distance, sirens wailed. “Let’s get going,” he suggested, wrapping an arm around her lower back. He was eager to get off the streets and keep Cary safe. Plus, the heat of summer was stifling, or was it the strangeness of the night dominating him?
She staggered up the sidewalk out of his hold, again.
He bit down the words backing up in his mind, gritted his teeth, and sprinted after her.
Be calm. “Maybe I care what happens to you,” he said when he reached her side. “You can talk to me about anything.”
She released a long breath and kept her gaze straight ahead. “Thanks. I know.”
He took her response as a step forward to making progress, though her detachment burrowed a hole through his heart. At the end of the street, they swung right as a warm wind collided into them. Behind them, ambulance lights flashed on the road. “Can I make a suggestion?” Levi asked. “Rather than using martial arts, try a hard punch to the nose, chin, or temple. Then lasso them.”
“That’s not my thing. I do fine my way.”
“Right. You’re just bleeding for the fun of it?”
“Back off, all right.” She faced him. With a hand holding her nose to stop the bleeding, her voice resembled a muffled chipmunk, and yet she still managed to give him a go-to-Hell look. “Stop telling me shit about how I should do things. I’ve been doing this most of my life and I’m still alive. You might have been some hot-shot demon hunter at Argos, but it doesn’t make you Mr. Know-It-All. So, fuck off.”
Despite the anger marbling her words, his first reaction told him to lean in and draw her into a hug for no reason other than to wrestle the anger from her system. Well, he had saved her once tonight, so his system must work. “I’m only looking out for you.” He reached for her.
She spun on h
er heels and quickened her pace down the path.
He should have kept his trap shut, except he’d never be able to live with himself if she got hurt when he could have prevented it. Cary could do the job, but it bugged him that she insisted on hunting in a round-about way. Despite having met her several months ago, he cared for her more than he should. Something about her stubbornness and the way she worried for innocents reminded him of Marcos.
Ahead, she swung left onto a side street packed with apartments. His side street. She wanted to go back to his place, whether she admitted it or not. Levi jogged ahead a few steps so he could get there just before she did. He fished out the keys and unlocked the front door, opened it.
“After you.” He swept an arm out across the entrance.
As she passed him, a half smile slipped across her lips. Levi wondered for a moment and then realized what was bothering him.
She’d never been to his place before, but she knew exactly where it was.
Chapter 8
“Wow.” Cary studied Levi’s studio apartment. Floor to ceiling windows with no blinds. Highly polished floorboards and stainless steel shelves. Her whole apartment could fit inside his kitchen. Books everywhere, but no curtains for Mr. BDSM, and in a strange way, that excited her. It was obvious; she’d been hanging out with Levi for too long.
Three rows of shoes near the wall across from his bed caught her attention. “How many shoes does a guy need?” she asked. “Have to be at least twenty-five pairs here.” Levi’s collection far surpassed hers, but he didn’t need to know that yet.
“I didn’t take you for a shoe person. Jealous?” Levi answered back with a grin. “Those must be your favorite black, scuffed boots, because I’ve never seen you wear anything else.”
“Comfy and butt-kicking worthy. I have a back-up pair in the SUV, and a few more at home. Why mess with the best?”
“The bathroom’s just second to the left if you want to freshen up.” Levi pointed to a door slightly ajar.
She made her way to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face, cleaning blood off her nose and cheek. She patted dry her face while pinching her nose to stop it from bleeding all over the place. No tissues. Her reflection in the mirror showed wild hair sticking upward on one side of her head. She patted it down. Her eyes were blood-shot, and a purple bruise marred her forehead. All she was missing was a massive black eye and the picture would be complete—she could be the poster girl for an underground fight club. She removed Levi’s spare lasso from her back pocket and set it down on the bathroom sink.
Back in the main room, Levi was setting his lasso on the marble counter in the kitchen. She looked at him, across the room, and then to his bed. The king-sized wooden frame and mattress sat on a platform encircled by three steps.
“So this is how you woo all the girls back to your pad.” She reached for the tissue box on the coffee table and stanched her nose that refused to stop bleeding.
Levi took a bottle of water from the fridge and strolled toward her, his boots thumping against the floorboards and his jeans hugging strong thighs. Cary pictured him topless, felt heat rising up in her belly and slinking south. She sat down onto the sofa to ease her spinning head.
He placed the bottle on the thick glass coffee table in front of her and headed into the bathroom, his words fading as he walked away. “Believe it or not, I don’t bring girls here.”
Right then, she thought she’d probably be stupid enough to believe him. She gulped down the chilled water, quenching her burning throat.
The framed black and white photographs above Levi’s bed were of abstract shapes and probably cost more than her car. They had that gallery look about them. She wondered what drew someone like Levi into the demon business. Every bounty hunter had a history, a dark story to tell. No sane person would willingly join this suicide mission. It was Russian roulette but with a demon as the bullet… Just a matter of time before a hunter got possessed.
She settled back on the couch and decided a bit of time out wasn’t a bad idea. The antique store she planned to visit wasn’t going anywhere, and she didn’t need Levi following her and suspecting her of anything else. Bad enough he kept asking her if she was okay. Thank goodness the hellhound back in the alley was invisible to Levi and probably most humans. Anyway, the animal had bolted down the street, vanishing into the night, hopefully never to return. What did hellhounds snack on anyway—steaks, rabbits, arms? But the real question was: Who had sent it?
She pulled out her cell phone and typed in Magick Antiques Detroit. Scrolling down the search engine listings, she found the store and clicked open the page. Antique stores didn’t hold onto goods forever, but popular items like scrying mirrors were always in demand, so they got them in as fast as they could. And, she remembered that the last time she was there, the owner said he listed such items on his website when available. Several clicks later, she landed on the relics page. And right at the top was the mirror. Perfect.
Levi reappeared with a towel, antiseptic, and two aspirins. She stashed the phone into her back pocket and pushed herself up. She swallowed the pills and chased them down with the water. “Thanks.”
“Get comfy,” he said.
Toeing her boots off, she lay on her back. No pillows. Must be a guy thing.
“Business must be booming to be able to afford this place.”
“Not really. I inherited my father’s stock investment portfolio. I own this whole block.” He shrugged and knelt alongside her.
Her breath hitched … A whole block? “Well, all my dad left me was a tiny house in Watersmeet needing a complete teardown and rebuild, and—” She stopped.
Shut up, Cary. Why open your mouth? She blamed her nausea and changed the topic. “So why not pay off Argos if you have the money?”
“They’ll only accept hit money from me. It’s Brent’s demented way of teaching me a lesson. Plus, if I cut all ties, what excuse would I have for spending time with you?” One side of his mouth curled upward. Cary wouldn’t be surprised if, at any moment now, she dissolved into a puddle from his delicious grin. Something about his apartment made her relax. Or maybe it was his company, and being off the streets. Gone was the dread and rage. Okay, not that dramatic, but as much as she denied it, her heart insisted he was the guy for her. Completely laughable considering her demon heritage. Even if they had another one-night stand, theirs wasn’t a relationship that would work. Been there, done that, failed at it.
And with that thought, heaviness settled in her chest.
But despite still feeling like her head was squeezed in a vice, she still longed for his kisses just one more time. Yet she reminded herself how easily Levi could discover she was a cambion, then kill her himself. Wanting him was ridiculous and stupid and reckless. A terrible idea.
“Let me see the damage.” Levi folded the towel in his hands.
Cary lowered the tissue from her nose. “I think the bleeding’s stopped.”
Levi studied her. She half expected him to cringe from her bloody nose, but saw only a slightly worrisome crease that marred his brow.
With the damp cloth, Levi stroked her chin. He wiped around her ear and cheek, too.
Cary couldn’t tear her eyes from this gorgeous guy who didn’t owe her anything, but had cleaned her up. Her gaze traced the line of his stubble covered jaw. The dip and rise of his lips, thick eyebrows framing amber-brown eyes…
He sat back on his heels and took the tube of antiseptic from the floor. “Close your eyes.”
A buzz swirled through her belly. The cream was cold, but with Levi gently smoothing it across the wounds, the fire burning through her veins quadrupled.
Sleep with him again, and you’ll spend another two months moping over him.
The voice in her head needed to shut up.
And when he finds out what you are—
“So.” The sudden crispness of his tone snapped her out of her thoughts. “What was that demon talking about? It said something about knowin
g you or what you are. Have you encountered it before?”
Told you. Cary slid her eyes open slowly, holding back the jittery sensation swarming down her arms. What else had he heard?
Shrugging, she stared at the ceiling, refusing to meet his gaze. Good one, Cary. “It probably knew I was a hunter, though I wasn’t paying attention to be honest. I was too busy trying to breathe.” Time to leave.
He screwed the lid back onto the cream and balled the hand-towel in his fist before standing up. “That’s not a good thing. Hopefully you’re wrong and it doesn’t tell other demons to come looking for you.”
“I’ll be fine.” Taking a deep breath, she caught a whiff of the sulfur stink on her skin. Was she marked? What she needed was concrete evidence, and not some hoax to freak her out. As much as she despised the idea of testing herself, she had no other choice. Otherwise she’d place Levi and Tasha and everyone else she knew into jeopardy. Demons were well aware of hunters. When they got inside one, they went for the jugular: knowledge of their family and friends. And once that happened, those hunters would be forced to murder their loved ones. Then that hunter would end up being killed by their colleagues.
Her pulse thumped beneath her skin, and she instead focused on the current problem at hand. The mark.
“Anyway,” Levi said. “I suggest you stay the night, so I can keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t have a concussion. Besides, I’m curious how you knew where I lived?” Stepping around the couch and out of sight, Levi dimmed the lights.
“Lucky guess.” Liar. She had one of the accounts girls look up Levi’s address on the Argos server… Yeah not one of Cary’s finest moments, but she’d missed him insanely.
She shifted to stand, but the world beneath her feet spun, and she collapsed back down. Her body and head ached, and the couch was super cozy, cradling her in its leathery cocoon.