On the Hunt

  He shrugged. "So I hit a few of the society parties now and then. I don't belong in that world. We have money, but we're freaks in this town. The main thing . . ." He leaned closer, sliding his arm along the back of her seat without actually touching her. "The most important thing is, I'd have been proud to have you on my arm, Sunny Renfroe. So proud."

  Her vision instantly blurred and she stared at her plate wordlessly. Jamie's warm hand encircled her nape and he rubbed the cordons of her neck, very tenderly massaging her. "I didn't mean to upset you."

  She blinked at the tears, knowing she should force his hand away. He couldn't touch her, couldn't transgress the rules of interaction.

  And she couldn't find the strength to stop him. "I'd have been proud, too," she whispered, wiping at her eyes. "To be on your arm, to know you were mine. But I can't afford to even dream about that."

  He scooted closer, the hard muscles of his upper thigh pressing into hers. He slid his hand down around her shoulder, cradling her close. "Dreaming isn't a crime, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear, letting his lips graze the lobe with an almost-touch. "God puts dreams inside of us for a reason."

  She shook her head, searching for the strength to scoot away, but he just leaned a little closer, holding her against his side. "I never much dreamed I could fall in love," he admitted huskily. "Not ever. Not till you walked in my house the other day."

  She looked up into his eyes plaintively. "Please. Don't make this harder, Jamie. You saw what happened in the gazebo."

  "Your boss? Yeah, don't think I'm not scared. I may be a tough guy, but I realize this is serious business."

  She lifted fingertips to his cheek, caressing it briefly. "Then stop touching me."

  He smiled gently. "You're touching me, too."

  She dropped her hand as if scalded. "I won't. Not again."

  "How can you be so sure?" he asked, obediently sliding a few feet away along the banquette, putting safe distance between their two bodies.

  Her throat tightened painfully, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. "Because I won't see you again, not after tonight. It was a mistake. There's too much desire, too much we both want . . . and can't have."

  Jamie planted his fist on the table angrily. The silver-ware and china clattered; his champagne glass sloshed some of its contents onto the cloth, but then he slammed his hand down even harder. "I've spent my whole adult life serving the righteous by hunting demons. So tell me why, Sunny?" He turned to her, desperation darkening his usually bright eyes. "Why have I been given this dream of you, only to have it denied me?" With a brutal gesture, he reached for his champagne, draining the glass's remaining contents. "How can falling for you like this be wrong or evil? Maybe I should burn in hell, but I can't stop how I feel. . . ." He glanced away sharply, wiping his own eyes with the back of his hand.

  She'd never wanted to touch a human more than she did Jamie Angel in that moment. Not to arouse him, not to pleasure herself. She simply wanted to draw him into her arms and hold him, comfort him.

  There were no rules against compassion. The curtains were closed; they were completely alone and unobserved. Without questioning or second-guessing for another moment, she opened her arms wide and pulled Jamie close, wrapping him tightly in an embrace. He bent his head against her shoulder, sliding his hands about her waist. She felt the fast rhythm of his heart beating against her own chest, smelled the masculine scent of his skin, the fresh, clean aroma of shampoo in his hair.

  She reached, threading her fingers through that straight, soft hair. Just one stroke, maybe two.

  Surely that would be overlooked.

  Except . . . he moaned. Right in her ear, an eager, hungry sound that said one or two more caresses would only ignite the fire between them all over again. Make them burn harder and hotter, take them beyond the veil to the place of punishment and retribution.

  She drew in a ragged breath, pressing her mouth against his bristling cheek, feeling his own lips against her jaw, her throat. He pulled at her waist, drawing her closer, closer, until she was halfway on his lap, feeling his thick erection beneath her thigh.

  Had to stop, had to put an end to it . . . but she didn't possess the strength of will to do so.

  "Belong to me, Sunny," he begged, his mouth finding hers. "Please find a way."

  There was no rule that could be bent. They'd been doomed before they'd ever so much as kissed the first time.

  With both hands, she pushed at his chest, sliding away from him and back onto the banquette.

  Jamie kept reaching for her, his gaze imploring as it swept over her face, her body. She was about to explain the facts again, when his BlackBerry rang, vibrating on the table beside him.

  He stared at it for one long moment, and she saw Mason's name on the caller ID. "Damn it." He whipped the phone to his ear. "What's going on, Mace?" he demanded irritably. She couldn't hear what his brother said on the other end, but Jamie lowered his voice, turning away. "I told you not to disturb me. That tonight was important," he whispered.

  She couldn't help smiling, even as her heart broke . . . for Jamie and for herself.

  "Where?" He suddenly sat up tall in the seat. "Midnight? All right."

  He replaced the BlackBerry on the table with a sigh. "Work," he muttered, staring down at the phone, seemingly lost in thought.

  "What's happening at midnight?" Maybe if she could pull his attention back to the real world, he'd forget their own anguished interactions.

  Jamie raked a hand through his hair. "Usual crap. There's this demon Thrastikas that's been gunning for my ass lately. Apparently . . ." He waved it off. "Doesn't matter."

  She sat forward, her own senses on full alert. What if this was the same demon that Shay had drawn the other day? The dangerous one, with that death grip on Jamie? Even if it wasn't, something about this midnight meeting felt dead wrong. As a guardian, she was wired with a full load of senses that ordinary humans didn't possess, and right now they were warning her about Jamie's safety.

  "Jamie, please tell me what is happening at midnight," she repeated intently.

  "Mason wanted to let me know he set a trap for Thrastikas down in Bonaventure Cemetery. That demon soul-sucked a couple of tourists today and Mace is pissed. So he's decided that we're going to take him down tonight once and for all."

  The hair on Sunny's nape bristled. This plan wasn't right; danger awaited Jamie—she was sure of it.

  "I don't think that's a good idea."

  He cast a dubious look at her. "I don't have to take you home for another hour."

  "It's not about me. It's dangerous, Jamie."

  "Like I said, the usual stuff," he said in a dull tone. She'd hurt him tonight, and she didn't like the idea of his being in the field in his current emotional state. The pain he was suffering would put him in jeopardy, make him more vulnerable than usual.

  She shook her head adamantly. "I'm serious, Jamie. Don't go tonight. Please."

  Maybe she should tell him about Shay's drawing, but the image could be interpreted in any number of ways. For all she knew, Jamie would try to use it to argue that she belonged in his life; otherwise a demon might kill him. So she opted to keep the drawing's existence to herself.

  He leaned back against the banquette and gave her a long look. In the candlelight, his eyes gleamed bright, filled with unmasked heartache. "You're telling me we have no future, Sunny.

  You've made that point indelibly clear. That means all I've got is my calling as a hunter," he said bitterly. "I might as well focus on my job . . . since I won't have you."

  She reached for his hand, but he averted the gesture. "Jamie, listen to me," she begged. "Don't start taking crazy chances. Not because of me or because we can't . . ."

  She wasn't able to finish, because the phone rang again, although she couldn't see who was on caller ID this time. After a moment, Jamie said. "All right, I'll get moving. Yeah, yeah, I know. Give me thirty."

  Before she could object again, or explain about
an earthly guardian's keen sense of danger, Jamie began tracking down the server and handling the bill. When she tried to take hold of his hand while they waited for the valet, he got another phone call, and walked away from her to answer it. The drive to her apartment was only a few blocks, and despite several efforts, she wasn't able to convince him that he should stay far away from Bonaventure Cemetery tonight.

  Chapter Nine

  Jamie didn't like the smell of things. Literally. He wasn't even over the locked gate to Bonaventure Cemetery yet, and the acrid, rank scent of demons already had his stomach roiling, something that almost never happened after so many years as a hunter. As he slung a booted foot over the top of the wrought-iron gate, the stench intensified. This was going to be an ugly battle—all his senses told him that.

  Sunny warned you to stay away. An angel from the heavenly host cautioned you that this fight was a dangerous one.

  He'd been too hurt and distressed to heed her warning, but more than that, he'd wanted to lose himself in a good fight. Gashes and claw marks would heal, so he welcomed them, wanted to feel that pain, the rawness of it. Yes, his body would heal even as he knew his heart never would recover from this particular emotional hit. He was convinced he'd lost Sunny forever, so why not bring on the battle wounds? God wanted him as a hunter but wouldn't grant him the deepest wish of his heart? Well, fine. Then he was here to fight, to put his life and body on the line. Maybe if he was lucky, some badass demon would get the best of him this time, and put him out of his misery for good.

  Only that would mean never seeing Sunny again . . . unless he bumped into her at the gates of heaven. And his death would hurt her; he was sure of it. He knew that their current situation wasn't because she didn't care for him. He had total confidence that she'd been feeling every beautiful, conflicted, and tormenting emotion that he had tonight.

  She was simply smart enough to have a healthy fear of God in the matter, whereas his heart—his human soul—had wanted to believe there was some way they could be together. Precisely because he did love and fear God, he possessed a ridiculous heap of faith that Sunny was meant to be in his life.

  Until the restaurant tonight. Something about her saying that she'd never see him again had stabbed him more deeply than he'd thought possible. Her words had been final, and he'd known it.

  She would never be convinced to search for any loophole to their situation; he'd glimpsed that resolution in her eyes.

  So he really didn't have anything left to lose in this battle, which meant he shouldn't fear the shrieks and caterwauls that started up as soon as he climbed over the gate. With a quiet thud, he landed on the loamy ground inside the cemetery, squatting and listening keenly. Mason, Shay, and another one of the Shades, Evan, were already here, and he searched the ten-o'clock position for where they were supposed to be posted.

  In the moonlit shadows, he could make out his brother's form, with Evan and Shay crouching beside him. It wouldn't be midnight for another thirty minutes, but they knew from experience that demons had difficulty understanding the human passage of time. Although demon stench was in the air, Thrastikas couldn't possibly have arrived yet, or Jamie would hear the demon's clanking chains. The links were long, permanently manacled to the creature's ankles, and they sounded his arrival like a death knell wherever he went. At least for Jamie and the other hunters who had the supernatural ability to hear and see demons.

  Even though Thrastikas hadn't shown, there was still no telling how many of their enemies were massed already in the cemetery, so Jamie moved clandestinely toward Mason and Evan, keeping low to the ground.

  Mace caught sight of him and motioned with his hand, indicating with two fingers that they were tracking a pair of the enemy. Jamie took up position behind a live oak nearby, poised with his semiautomatic for when the creatures came within striking distance.

  Right then, a shriek like a banshee's rang out in the treetop just above Jamie—much too close above him. Swinging his weapon, he prepared to fire, but he didn't even get a chance. Thrastikas dropped from the tree, tackling him like a ten-ton deadweight, swinging several of his mighty chains overhead. His eyes were beady and red, and the chains made a whistling sound in the air as they whipped toward him. Dimly, Jamie was aware of Mason and Evan firing their weapons, but then heard more shrieks as an explosion of light pierced the darkness.

  With a quick gaze to the left, he saw a demon horde move in on the other hunters, blocking them from aiding him. Shay cast a desperate glance in his direction, then turned to fight off the leather-winged creatures advancing upon them all. He was isolated, going head-to-head with a demon who particularly wanted his blood.

  Again Thrastikas swung his chains overhead, growling at Jamie. "Hunter, your blood is mine. And after this fight—I'll have your soul."

  His angel had been right: This was a trap, and now they'd been lethally ambushed.

  Sunny, sweetheart . . . I'm sorry, he thought. He wished with all his might that he could see her even once more, just as the massive chains made contact with the crown of his head.

  The last thing he heard was Thrastikas's wicked cackling. "James Angel, welcome to hell."

  Sunny gunned the gas pedal of her Camry, wishing for once that she were in angel form. If she could've engaged her wings, her supernatural ability to move among physical places quickly, she'd already be in Bonaventure.

  She'd tried to sit this one out, wrestled to respect Jamie's wishes to engage the enemy tonight, even if it meant risking his life recklessly. But the more she'd paced her apartment, thinking about Shay's sketch and remembering the visible pain she'd seen in Jamie's eyes back at the restaurant, the more she couldn't stay away. Not while he had some kind of crazy death wish because of her decision.

  And what if he was right about there being a way for them to be together? There was at least the slim possibility, enough of one that she wanted Jamie to know that he shouldn't put his life on the line recklessly. And that he shouldn't give up on them, not just yet. They could study the lore together, read every volume, try to find a loophole.

  She was almost to Bonaventure Road when a humming sound began in the car, the seat beside her instantly filled with light. She nearly swerved right off the road, unable to see anything because of Kiel's luminescence.

  Thankfully, he toned his brightness down right away. For once, she saw him as he rarely appeared—more human. His warm eyes were the color of golden wheat, his skin like burnished bronze. His hair was an unearthly mix of red and blond and gold, the combination creating one of the mystical colors that didn't exist anywhere but back home.

  "Sunera," he chided quietly. "You are nearing an abyss right now with James Angel. Dinner was not wise."

  She shook her head, focusing on the road straight ahead. "Sir, he's in danger. Tonight. He's going to a demon battle, and when he spoke of it, I knew . . . I sensed . . ."

  "This is what it would be like every time he went to war. You know, more than any human female, the danger he faces."

  She glanced sideways in shock. "Are you saying there actually is some way I could be with him?"

  Kiel gave her a bare hint of a smile, one that seemed to conceal a thousand secrets. "Even angels have free will, Sunera."

  Being a lower-level guardian, Sunny still didn't know many things. There was so little that her superiors had taught her about her angelic nature, including the choices available to her. "Free will superiors had taught her about her angelic nature, including the choices available to her. "Free will to do what? I can't have Jamie—you've already said so."

  "Free will to do what is right," her superior said cryptically, but she'd have sworn there was an odd sparkle in his eyes. "I tried to guide you down the easier path. But in your heart, you know what the right thing is. You've always known."

  "Sir, sir," she cried, turning down the road that led toward the cemetery. "How can I know the right thing? You've told me he's off-limits, told me there's no possibility, but now . . . has anything chan
ged? I'm confused."

  "Faith is the evidence of things unseen," he said, quoting scripture. "Lean on your faith. Perhaps it will open up a new course for you."

  She opened her mouth to beg for more information and guidance, but he was already gone. All that remained was a slight warm glow in the empty seat beside her. And two highly significant, meaningful words, a compass in the midst of her confusion: free will.

  Jamie's forehead throbbed from a deep gash Thrastikas had inflicted with the chains. Blood dripped into his eyes, and he kept trying to wipe it away so he could see to fight. He and the demon had squared off, but unless Mace or Evan managed to free himself from the fracas and come to his aid soon, Jamie knew he wouldn't last long. The demon had tossed away Jamie's semiautomatic first thing, then managed to get hold of his knife and dispose of it as well.

  So he was head-to-head with a particularly malevolent demon with nothing but his bare hands to use as a weapon. He assumed fighting stance, offering a prayer for strength and assistance. For several long seconds, the red-eyed demon glared at him, his ugly leather wings brushing together.

  The appendages created an earsplitting sound, and the demon grinned in pleasure at Jamie's pained reaction.

  "You've been a splinter in my ass for long enough, hunter," Thrastikas growled, and once again began swinging the chains overhead, allowing them to gain momentum as he ran at Jamie.

  In a blur, Jamie was dragged to the ground, the thick, rusty links wrapped tight about his throat.

  He gasped and coughed, trying to draw even a single gulp of air, but the force was too tight on his windpipe.

  With both hands, he grasped at the chain, frantically trying to loosen the pressure so he could breathe, but the demon only tightened his hold, laughing viciously. Jamie scrabbled at the ground with his boots, flailing as he tried to fight back.

  "A fitting end," Thrastikas taunted. "A torturous death for one who has tortured me for far too long. Now, like so many of my brothers have done by your hand . . . you will die."

  Jamie gagged, still clawing at his throat, trying to get a bead on his comrades, but they were much too far away to help him now; he could hear them fighting farther in the distance. He was on his own, at least until the other hunters could dispatch the demon horde.