“I can't.”
“Please,” the female begged. “Please, don't leave me.”
“I ...” Jaelyn struggled against her screaming instinct to unlock the damned cell and release the pleading female. For all she knew this was another test of her training. “I don't have a choice.”
“Of course you do. Just open the door.” Valla's choked sob stabbed Jaelyn directly in the heart. “I swear, I won't slow you down.”
“You're not part of the job.”
“Job? What job?”
“I have to go.” Jaelyn took off for the door, desperately trying to shut out the female's scent of absolute terror.
“Wait,” the nymph cried out. “At least put me out of my misery.”
“ No.”
“Jaelyn, I beg of you.”
The screams followed her as she escaped from the dungeons and then the auction house.
They followed her back to her lair with the Addonexus, haunting her... .
Always haunting her.
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Jaelyn woke with a low curse, rising to her feet to glance around the abandoned church.
She told herself the dream was a result of her near-death experience.
After all, if she hadn't been a Hunter with the ability to shroud herself in shadows so thick she could bear the sunlight for short periods of time she would even now be a tiny pile of ash in the nearby caves.
As it was, she'd barely managed to climb out of the cave and dart to this church before she'd passed out from exhaustion.
Was it any wonder that in her weakened state she would be plagued with a nightmare she'd struggled so hard to banish?
Yeah, a convenient excuse.
A pity she didn't believe it for a minute.
Not when she knew the sensations of guilt and nearly overwhelming regret that she had felt walking away from Valla that night had been stirred by Ariyal.
She had never forgiven herself for leaving the nymph behind, no matter what punishment the Addonexus would have doled out.
How could she survive if she abandoned the man destined to be her mate?
With a shiver she stepped over the rubble that littered the floor of the nave and made her way to the nearest window, which boasted a few tenacious shards from the once magnificent stained-glass window.
Now was not the time to brood on her complicated relationship with Ariyal.
Not until she was certain he'd escaped from the caves unharmed.
And oh yeah, stopped the end of the world.
Ignoring her lingering weakness and growing hunger, Jaelyn cautiously made her way out of the church and crossed the graveyard. Halfway through the moss-covered headstones she came to an abrupt halt, her senses on full alert.
Ariyal.
Or at least it had been Ariyal. Along with the granite scent of Levet and ...
Sergei?
Shaking her head in confusion, Jaelyn bent down, running her fingers of the faintly singed grass. A portal had briefly opened and then closed here.
Dammit. Had Ariyal been captured by the mage and forced to use his powers to leave this place? And if so, where the hell had they gone?
She lingered in the spot long after she was forced to accept that Ariyal wasn't coming back. As if his fading scent could give her some sort of clue to where the mage had forced him to go.
Or perhaps she desperately needed to cling to the tangible assurance that he was still alive.
At last she forced herself to straighten and consider her options. Although her sense of duty had been beaten into her with brutal force, she knew what she had to do.
What Ariyal would want her to do.
And if that meant she was punished by the Addonexus and the Oracles ... so be it.
A smile curved her lips as she abruptly stiffened her spine and squared her shoulders. Hell, before she was done this small transgression would be the least of her concerns.
Wrapping herself in shadows, Jaelyn headed directly toward the glowing lights of Chicago.
She didn't slow as she hit the suburban outskirts, knowing that her destination would be in the seedier part of the city. Not that there wasn't plenty of evil lurking behind the perfectly manicured homes. But she needed to find a specific place.
It took nearly an hour of searching, but at last she managed to track down the Viper Pit. Predictably, the most exclusive club in the entire city of Chicago was also the most difficult to find.
Not only was the entire building hidden behind a magical glamour, but there hadn't been a single demon willing to reveal the location.
If she hadn't been a Hunter she wasn't sure she'd ever have stumbled across the hidden entrance.
Once inside, she hurried past the marble pillars and glittering fountains. She had no interest in the demons who were busy indulging in the various vices on offer, from gambling to orgies to cage fighting that made the MMA look like a fun game of slap and tickle.
If she was running the joint, she'd have an office on the second floor where she could keep an eye on the entire club.
Reaching a back hallway, she had just caught sight of a narrow staircase when her path was abruptly blocked by an Andrax demon.
At least a foot taller than her, the demon had taken the shape of a human with a brutish face and bulging muscles that were covered with scarlet tattoos. His head was shaved and his ears were lined with gold studs, but it was the teeny-tiny loincloth that attracted her attention.
A loincloth? Really?
Oblivious to her flare of amusement, the demon flexed his muscles before pulling back to lips to reveal his massive fangs.
Andrax demons didn't drink blood, but they did eat raw flesh. Usually while it was still attached to the person.
“Going somewhere, beautiful?” he demanded.
She rolled her eyes. Did males always have to be so predictable?
“Step aside.”
“Hmmm ...” He skimmed a hungry gaze down her body. “A mouthy one. I could change that.” He stepped close enough to nearly overwhelm her with the stench of his sour sweat. “All you need is a little training.”
She bared her fangs in warning. “All I need is for you to move your ugly ass before I forget how much I hate Andrax blood.”
“Bitch.”
“I'm not telling you again. Move.”
“Yum.” He licked his lips. “I'm going to enjoy teaching you a lesson. By the end of the night you'll be begging for it.”
She snorted. “Begging for what?”
He grabbed the bulge beneath the loincloth. “Some of this, baby.”
“Ah.” She tapped her tongue against the end of her fang. “That nasty piece of shrunken flesh that I'm going to bite off and shove down your throat?”
“Big talk for such a tiny thing ...”
His taunting words ended in a scream that would have made a banshee proud as Jaelyn leaped over the Andrax's head and then, pressing herself against his back, wrapped her arms around his body, her hands grabbing the tender bits of manhood he'd been so proud to point out to her.
It made it so much easier to know where to hurt him.
“Now tell me again what you're going to do, demon,” she murmured, her claws digging through the loincloth as her other hand wrapped around his beefy neck, threatening to crush his windpipe. “Nothing to say?”
“I'm ...”
“Yes?
“Sorry.”
Her claws dug a bit deeper. “Try it again.”
“I'm sorry,” he moaned.
“Sorry that you tried to rape me? Or sorry that I'm about to castrate you so you can't force yourself on some other woman?”
“No. Please, no ...”
The Andrax stiffened at the sound of approaching footsteps. Always cautious, Jaelyn kept her grip on the demon as she shifted to watch the two males making their way down the staircase.
No, not men.
Vampires.
Those too-perfect features and elegantly muscular bodies could never belong to humans.
She briefly ran her gaze over the nearest, a vampire with dark, spiky hair and crystal-clear green eyes who was dressed like a badass in black leather with a large dagger casually held in one hand. Dangerous. But it was his companion who sent a chill of alarm through Jaelyn.
This one was taller with lean muscles beneath the ruffled white shirt that was worn beneath a gold velvet jacket and black satin pants. He should have appeared ridiculous, but with his long hair the pale silver of moonlight and his eyes the startling darkness of midnight he was hauntingly beautiful.
A fallen angel.
Already suspecting the identity of the powerful vampire, the Andrax took away all doubt as he held out a pleading hand.
“Thank god, Viper. You have to help me.”
Ignoring the whining demon, Viper regarded Jaelyn with a piercing intelligence.
“Hunter,” he at last murmured, offering a formal bow of his head.
She returned the gesture. “Clan chief.”
The dark gaze briefly dipped to the struggling demon, his beautiful features unreadable.
“I see you've met Lector.”
She shrugged. “He introduced himself.”
“Viper, do something,” Lector gasped.
A smile of anticipation curved Viper's lips. “Oh, I intend to.”
Jaelyn tightened her grip. She was the one who had been insulted and threatened by the overly aggressive bully.
“I'm not finished playing yet.”
“I understand your desire for blood, my dear, I truly do,” Viper drawled with seeming regret.
“But?”
“But I fear that I have first claim on torturing our friend.” The dark eyes glittered with a frigid fury that made Jaelyn shudder in relief that it wasn't directed at her. “I really must make him an example for my other fighters who think they can flout my rules.”
“My lord ...” Dropping to his hands and knees as Jaelyn abruptly released her hold, Lector crawled over the marble floor, desperately kissing Viper's glossy leather shoes. “Please.”
With a casual ease, Viper kicked the Andrax in the face, sending him flying across the hallway to land in a bloody heap.
“Stop groveling, you pathetic worm,” he growled. “I did warn you what would happen if I caught you out of the pens.”
“Forgive me... .” Lector gave a choked groan as Viper's power filled the hallway.
“And now you've attacked one of my guests.”
The Andrax warily returned to his feet, wiping away the blood draining from his broken nose.
“I didn't lay a hand on her,” he protested. “She attacked me.”
Viper appeared unimpressed by his defense. “Spike, would you escort Lector to the dungeons?”
The young vampire at his side made a sound of protest. “I told you not to call me that.”
Viper arched a brow. “Will you do the honors or not?”
“With pleasure.” Moving with the eagerness of a vampire who enjoyed his job, Spike grabbed the Andrax and pressed the dagger into his throat. “Any torture in particular?”
“I think you should start with cutting out his tongue,” the clan chief suggested as Lector's screams echoed off the marble walls.
“An excellent choice,” Spike approved.
“I'll let your imagination take you from there.”
“Do you want him alive in the morning?”
“Not particularly.”
“No,” Lector managed to rasp despite the hole in his throat. “I'm your best fighter. You can't do this.”
It turned out Spike could.
And did.
With remarkable ease.
In less than a heartbeat, the young vampire was dragging the struggling demon down the hall, leaving Jaelyn alone to face the clan chief of Chicago.
“Such an unpleasant creature,” Viper said with a grimace.
“Then why do you keep him around?”
The dark eyes turned to study her with an unreadable expression.
“He wasn't boasting when he claimed to be my best fighter. Or rather ...” The vampire gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “He was.”
“Will you really let your guard kill him?”
“Yes, I really will.” His smile revealed his complete lack of regret at the loss. Damn. Jaelyn had thought she was cold-hearted. “Now tell me what brings a Hunter to my humble establishment?”