Beast of Fire -- a Demon Hunting Sexy Romance (26 page)

“What does he want from you?” he finally asked.
 

“If I tell you, my brother dies.”

“And if you don’t tell me?” he challenged.

She stared at him. His eyes were so damn powerful, she couldn’t look away. She swallowed. “I fear many will die.”
 

He actually showed a reaction on that wickedly handsome face – admiration for her honesty.
 

“Tell me what I must know, and I will do everything in my power to get your brother back,” he said evilly. “You have my word.”

“Adrian isn’t easy to defeat,” she reminded him painfully. “He isn’t from this realm. He’s… I don’t even really know what he is.”

“He’s a Demon,” Cullen said. “A powerful Demon, but just a Demon. He has weaknesses. We all do.”

She wasn’t encouraged, but she’d already decided to do the right thing, to consider the bigger picture. “He doesn’t want the wolves and the Knights to join forces. He wants me to convince you that the Knights mean the wolves harm.”
 

He quirked a brow. “And how would you do that?”

She let out a breath. “He wanted me to convince you they are killing wolves and will continue to do so. That they are your enemies and would kill any Demon.”

“Again,” he said. “How would you do that?” The edge to his voice said he knew she was stalling.

“About a month ago, I got a tip about the origin of the Hunter, an intercepted communication between Demons. I went to the Fae for input, and he not only confirmed it as truth, he swore me to secrecy.” She studied him a moment, and then continued, the expression on Cullen’s face one of impatience. She dropped her bombshell, “The Hunter is a Knight of White.”

Every line of his Cullen’s body was instantly stiff. “And he is here to hunt wolves?”

“No!” she insisted quickly. “At least, not according to Prince Risen. He says that the Hunter is captive to a couple of Demons who work for Adrian and he goes where they tell him to go. Apparently, he traded himself with the Underworld in exchange for the red-headed woman, who had somehow become captive herself. Word is they were torturing her in a wicked way, and he couldn’t bear it. He gave himself up.”

 
Cullen focused on one thing. “He kills wolves when they tell him to kill wolves.”

“No,” she said quickly. “Or yes. But he thinks the wolves are killing humans.” She corrected herself. “Actually they are. In his defense, all the wolves he’s killed were preying on humans. At least, that’s the buzz on the street. Prince Risen said the woman came to save him.”

“That explains a lot.”

“Explains what?” she asked, confused.
 

“I’ll spare you the details, but I’ve suspected the woman was after my ring,” he said darkly. “At least I know why now. I thought she was with the rebels.”

“From my experience,” Tara stated grimly, her fists balling on the table as she thought of her last encounter with Adrian. “He will manipulate and control any way he can.” Her eyes went to the ring and then back to Cullen. “Destroying your source of power as the leader of the largest Demon race on earth would certainly aid his efforts in taking over.” She let out a heavy breath. “Bottom line is this – Adrian wanted me to warn you about the Knights of White, to tell you they would deceive you. He wanted me to use the Hunter as proof.”

“And why didn’t Prince Rise simply tell me all of this?”

“He plans to, but not until after you meet the Knights' leaders. He didn’t want to risk you declining the meeting. He feels it’s critical that the wolves and the Knights come together to stop Adrian. Obviously, Adrian has the same point of view.”

 
Cullen didn’t respond. Again, he did the silent, processing thing. She could almost see his mind running through options. Without warning, he stood up and grabbed her hand, pulling her with him. “Where are we going?” she demanded, keeping the table between them.

“To get your brother back.”

“How?” she whispered. “How?”

“Who better than a Knight of White to face Adrian?” he asked. “We are going to see the Hunter.”

***

There was no place for self-doubt in the declarations of promise and hope he’d made to Kresley. But there was a troubled feeling, a gnawing in his gut, that he could not escape as they exited the hotel room.
 

Dressed as tourists with matching "New York" shirts and baseball caps on, they paused in the hallway while Lucan latched the door into place and pocketed the room key. He handed Kresley a spare. Her red hair was braided, tucked neatly under her cap for discretion.
 

“If we get separated for any reason,” he reminded her, “return here and wait for me.”
 

“I know,” she said gently. Of course, she knew. He’d told her a good ten times in the room. To say he was feeling protective of her would be an understatement. He was ever aware of a fear of failing her. Fear was dangerous; it robbed one of
 
logic. It made doctors doubt themselves, made doctors second-guess decisions. But no matter how he tried to push it aside, he feared for Kresley. It didn't matter that she had survived a year – correction, a lifetime–without him.
 

Nothing bad should happen to her with him in her life. But what if you aren’t in her life? came the voice of doubt. A voice born from his nerves over seeing the Knight’s leader again soon. What if, by negotiating with the Underworld, he had lost his place with the Knights? Lost his chance at heaven? Lost Kresley in the process of trying to save her?

She started to slide the key into the shoulder bag strapped across her chest, and he jerked himself to back into focus. He had to stay focused on the moment, on safety in the present, rather than on long-term possibilities.
 

“No,” he said, snatching the key. “Somewhere on your person in case you lose the purse.”

Gazing up at him with those clear, green eyes–the , summer-day eyes that held a innocent quality that never failed to touch his soul–she nodded and retrieved the key, sliding it inside her bra. Her chin tipped up, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Safe,” she declared.
 

If she was trying to produce sultry images of her naked body pressed intimately to his, it had worked. His groined tightened, but he ground his teeth through the moment. The beast wanted her – the man wanted her.

The Guardians could not have her. Safe. Right. He wasn’t sure he would use the word "safe" anytime soon. He reached for her hand and then led her to the elevator. Her hand was soft, delicate, feminine – and it calmed him in ways he had never imagined possible. She calmed him. Already the edge of tension in his body had eased marginally. Amazing how she spurred him to primitive demands and yet soothed him at other times. It was as if the beast knew when to lie in wait for its next opportunity to claim her, comforted by the fact her nearness meant another chance would come.
 

The elevator doors opened and displayed an empty car. Side by side, Kresley and he entered, and he punched the lobby button. No garage exit for them this time. They were walking out the main door like the rest of the "tourists," and if he was lucky, they’d make their way to the apartment unnoticed.
 

He leaned against the elevator door without letting go of her hand. It was soft, delicate. A contrast to the harshness of the circumstances they faced. They’d already begun plotting a trap for Cullen that they would enact Monday when she returned to work. The weekend would be about perfecting the plan and learning anything they could about Cullen and his wolves.
     

The youthful sprinkle of freckles on her delicate little nose caught his gaze. It was the only place she had freckles. Her body was creamy white perfection. He wanted a lifetime to explore that body.
 

“You have no idea how much I wish I could leave you here,” he ground out through his teeth.
 

She leaned her shoulder against the mirror to her right, and entwined her fingers with his. It was her way of seeking comfort with him, that "safe" feeling she’d expressed that he gave her, which he wanted to deserve.
 

“Oh I think I have a pretty good idea,” she rebutted gently, a hint of a smile on her pale, bare lips. “You’ve told me quite often the past hour or so. As you started to eat your pancakes. As you finished off my stack of pancakes. While you were in the shower. While I was in the shower. I thought for sure I’d distract you with an episode of House MD, but there you were, turning off the hair dryer, telling me to stay behind.” She smiled. “I’ve seen that episode, by the way. It was a very engrossing case.”
 

“I’ve known a few "Doctor Houses," and I didn’t like one of them. You don’t have to be an arrogant ass to be a good doctor.”
 

“What makes a good doctor then?” she asked curiously.

He’d opened himself up for the million-dollar question. “Caring enough to look below the surface wounds and find the truth.” The doors dinged open, and he held her fast. “You’d be safer here,” he said one last time.
 

Her eyes turned somber. “I have to go. I need my shot.” She glanced to her left, antsy about the people waiting to enter the car. “We need to go, Lucan.”
 

With his objections still intact, he allowed her to tug him to the lobby and then maneuvered her to the side of the front door. He did a quick scan, sized up the people present, familiarized himself with the room once again.
 

He opened his mouth to speak and she flattened her hand on his chest. “Don’t say it. Not again. I’m going with you. What if something happened and you weren’t able to get my medication to me in time?”
 

“The chances the apartment is being watched is high,” he said. “You know that. We are almost certain to have a confrontation."
 

“Got it. Understood. Let’s go.”

He grimaced and gave in. They started walking toward the door, but he wasn’t pleased. “I don’t know why I let you talk me into putting you in danger,” he murmured for her ears only but mostly to himself. He inclined his head at the doorman a moment before the cool morning air swept across his face. Then, “I should never have let you go back to work yesterday as it was. Not after we were attacked by wolves, and they followed us to your apartment.”
 

“We needed the book,” she reminded him shortly. “And now we have it.”
 

They crossed the street in the midst of about twenty other people and entered the subway stairwell as they’d discussed before leaving the room. The subway kept them off the main streets, and less likely to be noticed.
 

“A book we can’t read so it does us no good,” he said, cutting to the left to buy travel passes. He stuck a credit card in the machine.
 

“It might be of use to the Knights later,” she reminded him. “They need to know what the Underworld is saying about them.” She eyed his American Express card. She bit her bottom lip. “That hotel. It’s very expensive. Should we move somewhere cheaper?”

“Exactly why it’s an unlikely place to look for us.” He shoved the card back in his wallet and handed her a metro pass. “And it’s well-secured.”
 

“Yes, but—"
 

He cut her off by reaching for her. “Stop worrying,” he said wrapping his arms around her waist. “I have more money than King Henry probably had sitting around drawing interest. Well, more money than he had of his own.” He kissed her forehead. “Focus on staying alive. Okay?”
 

She nodded. “Yes. Okay.” They started walking toward the gates. Slid their passes and entered. She linked her arm with his, a sign she already felt comfortable that he did not miss. It warmed him and scared the hell out of him at the same time. Don’t let her down. He pointed to the stairwell they needed, and they headed toward the tunnel.

“Did you know King Henry?” she asked, as they double-stepped the concrete stairs.
 

He smiled. “I’m not that old,” he said as they stopped in front of the empty track. Only a few people milled around. One on a bench, another on the stairs. “But like Cullen, it appears I’ve spent my share of time studying religion. The Henry the VII time period was greatly immersed in the history of the church.”

“I know that history, actually,” she said. “There were those within the church who were corrupted by power. But it’s hard to swallow stories about someone from the church being corrupted.”
 

“The Watchers were Angels that came to earth and fell to
 
human temptations,” he said. “Why not a human?” He grimaced. “Exactly why I don’t care what that Seer said about good and bad in all beings. Demons start out evil. They certainly aren’t going to end up pure of heart.”
 

The track started to shake, adistant headlight appearing in the dark tunnel before the train rushed into view. “Here we go,” he said, his hand going to her back as the train pulled to a stop, the doors opening with a swoosh. Several people rushed off before they entered the nearly vacant car and sat down side by side.
 

He looked down to see her holding her arm, rubbing the sensor. Frowning, Lucan took her arm, studied the unchanged mark. “Is it causing you pain?”