Releasing the Hunter hn-168

by Vivi Anna

  * * *

  Ronan watched her go back into the house from his perch on the roof of the neighbor’s place. He’d been tempted to go down and talk to her. She’d been waiting for him to, that was obvious. But he hadn’t been ready, and neither had she. The anger of his betrayal would’ve still been fresh in her mind. She would’ve acted on it, he knew. And he really wasn’t up to fighting with her. He was still sore from his encounter with Reggie and his cabal goons.

  She was safe; that was all that mattered right now. Reggie had been lying about sending someone to take care of her. He should’ve suspected as much, but he had to be sure. The thought of something happening to Ivy, especially because of him, made his gut clench and his heart ache. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

  He also needed to give her time. Time to think, time to heal, time to forgive. He needed that time, too. To reconcile the fact that he’d never be fully human again. That he would always be a cambion, always have demon blood flowing inside him.

  He had to see himself as Ivy had seen him.

  As a man.

  Until then, he wouldn’t be good for her. And he really wanted to be good enough for her. She deserved that. She deserved the best he could be.

  Once the door was shut and he heard the lock engage, he jumped down from the roof, walked down the street to his car and got in. He couldn’t go back to his apartment. The cabal would be all over it. So this was his chance to make a clean break from everything he used to be. And become someone different. Someone better. Someone worth Ivy’s love.

  But first he had to stop the cabal from doing anyone else any harm.

  Chapter 30

  Ronan tossed the chalk to the side after drawing the sigil in the pentagram. He picked up his knife and drew the blade across his palm. Blood dripped onto the chalked hardwood floor of his newly rented apartment, activating the “call.” It wouldn’t be long before Daeva appeared. She was always prompt when he called her.

  A minute passed before there was an audible pop and the scent of cinnamon filled the air.

  “Hmm, twice in one week. That is some kind of record.” Her grin was warm and friendly.

  He didn’t return the smile; this was all business. “I need another address.”

  “Well, I know it isn’t for Sallos, because I saw his sorry ass down here. You really pissed him off.”

  “I need to know the headquarters for the Crimson Hall Cabal.”

  Daeva tapped one long finger against her lips. “I see. That’s quite the task you’re asking of me.”

  “Why?”

  “The cabal is powerful. They have a lot of magic able to block out any unwanted attention.”

  “I believe in you, Daeva. I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t think you were the woman for the job.”

  She preened at his use of the word woman, instead of calling her a demon. He understood wanting that distinction. He lived it every day, as she did.

  “Of course I am.” She tapped at her lips again. “Give me some time.”

  “I need it sooner than later.”

  “It’ll cost you.”

  Ronan looked at her, knowing full well that he’d pay whatever she asked for. He had to stop the cabal at any price. Reggie wouldn’t quit until Ronan was dead, as well as anyone involved with the key. And that included Ivy and Quinn. Ronan would sacrifice his own life before he ever saw anything terrible happen to them.

  “I know.”

  Daeva studied him for a moment, and then lifted one elegant eyebrow. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  He dropped his gaze, uncomfortable with the way she saw right through him. “Does it matter?”

  “Oh, Ronan, of course it does.” She tsked, then snapped her fingers and disappeared.

  Ronan walked down the corridor to the bathroom and stuck his hand under a stream of cold water. He kept it there until the blood oozing from the open wound gelled. He dried it carefully and then wrapped it up in gauze, taping it tight.

  He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait for Daeva to come back, but he sensed it wouldn’t be too long. She was reliable and something in her eyes told him that she understood his feelings for Ivy. That somewhere and sometime she’d possessed those same feelings for someone.

  True to his assumption, Ronan didn’t wait long for Daeva’s return. After two hours, she popped back into his living room with the information he needed.

  She handed him a small piece of paper. He took it and said, “Thank you.” He unfolded it, read the address, and then slipped it into his front jeans’ pocket.

  “That’s why you called me.”

  “Name your price, and I’ll pay it.”

  Daeva eyed him for a long while. So long he began to feel uncomfortable and shifted from foot to foot. Those gray eyes of hers were strange and unnerving. Finally she said, “All I ask is that you take care of her.”

  That surprised him. “What?”

  “Look after Ivy Strom and love her like she deserves.”

  He still didn’t get it. “That’s all you want?”

  She nodded.

  “Why? What’s Ivy to you?”

  “Nothing. It’s what she means to you.” Then her eyes sparkled and a sly grin spread across her comely face. “Oh, and send a message to that brother of hers.”

  “What message?”

  “That I’m waiting.” Her eyes bled black, and then she was gone, in a puff of dark smoke.

  Ronan didn’t have time to dwell on that last bit about Quinn. He’d deliver the message sometime and let Quinn worry about it. Right now, he had to prepare to take down the Crimson Hall Cabal or at the very least, kill Reggie.

  As soon as the sun set, Ronan set out on his way. The address Daeva gave him turned out to be smack in the middle of Pacific Heights. Not far from Lafayette Park, Ronan stood on Gough Street and stared up at the huge Victorian mansion looming in front of him.

  He shouldn’t have expected anything less from the cabal. They were entrenched in money. Reggie alone was probably worth at least several million. Ronan imagined most of the cabal members came from wealth. Bunch of sorcerer snobs.

  By looking at the big house, he also knew there were likely wards on every entrance. Luckily, Daeva also gave him the one window to go through that was lacking any security. He looked down at the paper she’d given him again. Second story, third window from the right. Smiling, he slid the paper back into his pants pocket and crossed the street.

  Getting up to the second floor proved far easier than he thought it would be. Ronan slid open the unlocked windowpane and climbed into the dark room that just happened to be a bedroom. Reggie’s bedroom, to be exact. And the sorcerer was sound asleep under the covers, like a gift-wrapped present.

  But Ronan didn’t believe in easy.

  Pulling his gun out from his shoulder holster, he flicked off the safety. He aimed and fired off three rounds. All three bullets hit the sleeping form. The big problem was, no blood splattered from the holes.

  A blast of magic hit him in the side. He stumbled to the left and smacked into the wall, the breath knocked out of him. His fingertips tingled from the electrical power of Reggie’s magic.

  “Did you think it would be that easy?”

  “I was hoping,” Ronan grunted, as he pushed off the wall and swung around to face his attacker.

  Reggie stepped out of the shadows; his hands were alight with the glowing blue of his magic. He lifted them towards Ronan. “After I kill you, I’m going to torture and kill your girlfriend.”

  “No, I don’t think so, Reggie.” Ronan ran at the sorcerer full speed. As he moved, he unsheathed two blades from his back harness; he’d gotten one just like Ivy’s.

  Reggie was caught off guard at Ronan’s attack and didn’t have time to release his magic. They tumbled to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. Reggie wrapped his hands around Ronan’s neck, intending to strangle him with power. But Ronan had been quicker.

  The sorcerer’s ey
es widened when he realized what had just happened. He looked down and saw that Ronan had buried both blades into his body, one in each side. Blood poured down his torso and onto the off-white carpet.

  Ronan pushed away from the sorcerer and got to his feet, pulling the knives out as he did. There was no way Reggie would survive.

  “You shouldn’t have threatened her. I might’ve let you live.”

  Reggie blinked up at him, then slowly his eyelids closed. Ronan sensed the moment the sorcerer died. A chill rushed through the room.

  Wiping the blood off on the sheets, Ronan quickly made his escape from the room. He had a lot of work ahead of him. He had to efficiently and effectively erase every trace of himself.

  Chapter 31

  One month later

  Ivy ran a hand over her new cross necklace, fidgeting as she waited at the bar. The day after she’d gotten back the key, she’d handed it over to Quinn, then promptly went out and bought herself a shiny new silver cross to replace it. As she played with it with her fingers, she knew it wasn’t the same and never would be. In more ways than she wanted to admit to herself.

  The cross had represented so many things to her. Quinn’s love and abandonment. As well as Ronan’s betrayal. And his attempt at redemption when he brought it back. Thirty days later and she still was waiting for him to show up at her door and apologize.

  The bartender set down another drink in front of her. Soda and lime. She took a sip and spun on her chair to check out the place again. This was her first job since coming back from Sumner. Another bar. What was it with demons and bars? She supposed there were easier targets here. Mostly drunk, desperate women in this particular place. So, perfect for a male demon predator.

  This one was a little different, though. He hadn’t killed anyone, yet. He just got them drunk or stoned, took them out back and seduced them. He was a lust demon. Sex was how he got his energy, how he fed.

  This one also supposedly had important information that Quinn needed. Something about the Chest of Sorrows. The chest that King Solomon had encased his grimoire in. Hence, her brother was across the room sitting at a little table in the corner, surveying the same crowd she was. Unfortunately they didn’t have a clue what the demon looked like. They just had to be on the lookout for the signs, do a sweep, listen to their amulets and hopefully find the right one with the hellfire in his eyes.

  It was strange doing a job with Quinn. They hadn’t worked together since before he’d left over three years ago. But they’d easily fallen back into a rhythm. With Quinn telling her what to do again. She’d wanted to tell him to shove it up his butt, but the fight had quickly gone out of her and she’d done what he asked without a comment. He’d seemed surprised, but didn’t question it.

  Her fire was fizzling. There wasn’t much in life that fired her up anymore. Even hunting was starting to lose its spark. She was seriously thinking about quitting and finding something else to do with her life. Something that would stop reminding her of Ronan.

  She took another sip of her drink, and then set it down. The guy sitting beside her took the opportunity to slide in closer to her. “Hey, baby. Can I buy you a real drink?”

  She didn’t even turn to face him. His booze breath managed to hit her in the face anyway. “No, thank you.”

  He touched her arm. This, of course, was a huge mistake. “Come on. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To hook up with someone like me?”

  She turned, then, to look at him, about to tell him to take a flying leap off a high cliff, when the fire in his eyes froze the words in her throat. Her amulet was glowing blue and it burned her skin. She’d been so distracted that she hadn’t noticed it warming on her flesh before now.

  He grinned at her. “Hello, Ivy Strom. It’s so awesome to finally meet you.” Before she could react, he had her spun around and forced her into a headlock, a knife pricking at her throat. “Don’t move or I will slice you open.”

  The other patrons around them jumped back and two lovely drunk ladies screamed at the top of their lungs. This was good, she supposed, because it would let Quinn know she was in some serious shit.

  He started backing up, dragging her with him. Others moved out of their way, giving him fantastic access to the exit. She really wished people would sometimes get involved.

  Quinn moved up along one side, but the demon spied him. Probably noticed him long before he even got there. The demon poked her in the neck with the tip of the blade. It stung something fierce.

  “One more step, Quinn Strom, and baby sister here is dead.”

  Quinn put his hands up, palm out, in surrender. “Look, we just want to talk to you. We’re not here to kill you.”

  The demon smirked. “Yeah, right. When have the Stroms not killed demons? You’re famous for it.” He continued to back up toward the exit.

  Quinn followed him, careful of not getting too close to spook him. Thank goodness, because believe it or not the demon’s hand shook. The tip of the blade pressed into her skin with every shake. He was afraid. That surprised her.

  “I just have a couple of questions. I promise no harm will come to you.”

  The demon didn’t believe him. Ivy didn’t, either. She knew Quinn would put him down no matter what he told them. He was single-minded that way. He had a ferocious hate on for demons in all forms.

  The demon snickered. “Yeah, right.” They were a couple feet from the exit. A few people crowded around the door. “Open the damn door or I will cut this bitch open,” the demon shouted.

  One enterprising guy jumped up and ran to open the door for them. Ivy wanted to kick him in the balls on the way out. Thanks for helping, buddy.

  Quinn followed them out, his hands still up. She knew he was looking for a way to take the demon down without getting her killed. She was pondering the same thing. But just swallowing was killing her. The demon was getting careless with his knife. Almost every step he took jogged his hand and nicked her skin. She’d bleed out soon enough if he kept it up because one of those careless nicks could get her right in the jugular.

  Once they were outside, Ivy looked around, or as much as she could without turning her head. She had to do something soon. She couldn’t let him take her any farther, especially not into a waiting vehicle. This had to end now.

  Although she couldn’t see his face, Ivy knew the demon was also looking around, trying to figure out how he was going to escape unscathed. She could’ve told him that was an impossibility. After another minute, she sensed that he came to the same conclusion because she felt him relax a little.

  “If I answer your questions, will you let me go?”

  Quinn nodded. “Yes, but first you let my sister go.”

  The demon shook his head. “No, I think I’ll keep her for a little while longer, just in case.” He turned her head so she could look at his face. “You don’t mind, do you, baby?”

  She glared at him, and then croaked, “No, not at all, dickhead.”

  He chuckled, but it had a nervous twitter to it. “Ask your questions.”

  “Have you heard of the Chest of Sorrows?”

  The demon shrugged, which caused his hand to move, which caused another slit along her skin.

  “Watch your blade, asshole,” Ivy barked.

  “Oh, sorry, sugar.” He lifted it slightly, enough that she considered her next move. He may have afforded her enough space between her neck and blade where she could safely break his hold on her.

  “Was that a yes or no answer?” Quinn asked, his hand lowered to his sides now. It looked like he was gearing up to make a move, as well.

  “I may have.”

  “Do you know where it is?”

  “No. But I might know who does.”

  “Who?”

  “Before I tell you, I want a guarantee I’ll get out of here alive.”

  “I give you my word,” Quinn said.

  The demon shook his head. “Sorry, but somehow that doesn’t give me any confidence.” He backed up again, ta
king Ivy with him. “No, I’ll just take pretty sis here with me until I think I’m safe, and then I’ll tell you.”

  Quinn kept in step with them, about five feet away at all times. He looked at Ivy; she knew he was asking her the question, Can you safely get away? She didn’t know for sure. The demon had a pretty tight hold on her, demons were megastrong and that lousy blade kept wavering dangerously at the main vein in her neck. If she made a mistake, moved too fast, went too slow, that tip could easily slide in and she’d be done for. She couldn’t heal from something like that. If only Ronan were here, then maybe she’d consider it. He wouldn’t let her die.

  The demon kept backing up until he came to the street. There was an old sedan parked partially on the curb. He backed up to it, then smashed in the driver’s-side window with his elbow. Reaching behind him, he opened the door.

  “You first, little sister.”

  Ivy looked at Quinn for a cue. His eyes widened and then a little smirk grew on his face. What was he trying to tell her? Something was obviously going on.

  “You just damaged my car, my friend. Big mistake.” The deep voice vibrated over her and she closed her eyes in relief.

  Next thing she knew, the demon was no longer holding her hostage. He was flying backwards over the car and out onto the street. Ivy swirled around to see Ronan standing on the roof of the car.

  He jumped down, walked to the fallen demon, grabbed him by the shirt collar and dragged him back to the car. He pushed him up against the hood and slapped something on his chest. It was one of her devil’s-trap stickers.

  He caught her looking at it and shrugged. “You left some in my gear.” He then motioned toward Quinn. “You can ask your questions now.”

  As Quinn moved forward, Ronan stepped away. Ivy wasn’t surprised. He wouldn’t know what Quinn would do. He did steal the key and all. Yeah, he brought it back, but in Quinn’s eyes it didn’t matter.

  And did it matter to her? She didn’t know. All she knew was that her heart thudded in her chest and her gut clenched when she looked at him.