Beast of Fire -- a Demon Hunting Sexy Romance (5 page)

Kresley pressed her fist to her chest, willing her racing heart to calm, telling herself this was the opportunity she’d been waiting for, a chance to enter Cullen’s inner circle, his world. A chance to figure out the best time and place to snag that ring without having a pack of wolves on top of her. Of course, at this moment, it would be nice if that report were actually done.
 

She pushed to her feet, drew a calming breath that did nothing to calm her at all. In the back of her mind, she replayed the worry she’d had for days – who had seen her in that alley that first night? What wolf might know her, might place her? But it was too late for those concerns. She was here. She was determined to make this work, to free Lucan. She wobbled around the desk, her black patent-leather heels and fitted, black suit dress reminding her that she wasn’t exactly dressed for a fast escape.
 

Kresley knocked on his door and heard the murmured "enter." She didn’t give herself time to think about it, striding into Cullen’s office, and leaving the door open. Immediately, her gaze swept the oval corner suite that smelled of fine leather and expensive wood. The walls were lined with antique books and decorated with pieces of history– statues, pictures, and artifacts. A room that would have been intriguing if not for the man, or rather Wolf, who stood with his back to her, looking out upon the night sky through ceiling-to-floor windows. He captured the room, stifled it with a thick tension that suffocated, stealing her breath. So much so, she thought about backing out. Reminded herself why that wasn’t an option – why she had to get to know the Wolf leader, not run from him.
 

Delicately, she cleared her throat, “Mr. Moore?”

He whirled around, lifted a dark brow, his amber eyes fixed heavily on her face, scrutinizing, probing her with the exactness of a surgeon holding a knife. His nostrils flared with an inhaled breath, and she somehow knew he sensed her fear – no, he could smell her fear. Slowly, his expression softened, as if she had passed some test, or perhaps, her fear simply pleased him.
 

“Cullen,” he offered. “Call me, Cullen. It’s Kresley, correct?”
 

“Yes,” she said, feeling like a mouse playing with a cat. As if she had been led into an invisible trap she had yet to discover. “I . . .the report you requested. It’s not quite complete. Honestly, I need another hour. It was about two hours of work, and I only received it a short time ago.”

 
He scrubbed his face, where a light stubble darkened his jaw; the ring on his hand drew her gaze. His fingers ran along his jaw, almost as if he taunted her with the ring’s presence. She’d seen it before, but never so close. Black Opal, beautiful etched, brilliantly reflecting the tiniest glimpse of light. How could anything that amazing be from hell? She tried not to stare, tried to look away, but it was that ring that she’d come for, that ring that would free Lucan.
 

Cullen’s hand dropped from his jaw, and Kresley forced herself to keep her gaze level with his when her eyes wanted to follow that stone. “I’ve just been given some new, rather displeasing, numbers to insert in one of the spreadsheets, anyway,” he commented grimly. With agile steps he moved toward his desk, walking behind the massive antique frame of the wooden and brass structure and claiming a folder. “I’ll need you to print out the general outline so I can see the overview and approve it. Then we’ll need these numbers added and not just the ones I have for you now. Several other operational areas are late reporting. Those will need to be worked in before we leave this evening.” He glanced up at her. “You are okay with a late night, correct?”
 

She nodded quickly. “Yes. Sheila explained she could no longer work the later hours that she has in the past. That was why I was hired.”
 

“Good,” he said, motioning her forward with an uplifted folder. “We try to take care of our employees."
 

Kresley blinked at the unexpected statement. What Demon worried about taking care of people? A thought quickly lost as she became aware of Cullen’s watchful gaze. She shook herself and rushed forward to accept the file, aware of his lingering gaze, of the hint of male appreciation in his stare. Discomfort overcame her, as it did with all male attention; her inability to control her firestarting had made relationships impossible, so her experience in that arena was limited. Lucan was the only man she remembered feeling instantly comfortable with. She reached for the file, refusing to look down at it or the ring on his hand. “I’ll get right on this.”

But he maintained his hold on the file, didn’t release it into her hand, his eyes pinning hers in a stare. He was an attractive man, tall and broad, dark and dangerous. Kresley knew she should be encouraging any interest he might have in her, trying to get close to him, to get the ring. Instead, she wanted distance, feared the worst, that he could see right through her façade of working for him, that he knew she was after more. Silence ticked onward, the air thick and hard to inhale, as he inspected her. She didn’t dare look away, barely dared to blink. He studied her, scrutinized her. This wasn’t about attraction; it was about trust. He wanted to know if he could trust her.

“Where are you from, Kresley?” he finally said, seeking an answer he couldn’t seem to find within the silence.
 

She’d practiced her story, knew how to answer any questions. “Texas,” she said, worried despite her preparation, worried that he was suspicious of her, that she was putting off guilty vibes.
 

His eyes narrowed. “You’re a long way from home.”
 

More suspicion, as she'd feared. “Home is relative,” she commented evasively, not sure if she should risk a misstep and say more.
 

A barely perceivable nod followed. “Perhaps,” he agreed. “But few people travel as far as you without something pulling them, some sort of fire in their blood that drives them to act.”

She didn’t blink. Didn’t show the absolute panic in her mind and body. Her heart raced, stomach twisted. Did he know? Did he know she was a firestarter?
 

“What’s the point in starting over if you stay on your own front porch?” she challenged, the words barely out before the hair on the back of her neck tingled, stood on end. Kresley had to fight the urge to turn toward the door.
 

“Cullen.” A male voice sounded from behind.
 

The file was released into her hand, and Kresley quickly backed away from the desk and to the side, giving the visitor a full view of Cullen.
 

Nick Nepal, Cullen’s Head of Security consumed the doorway, his broad shoulders brushing the frame, his presence explaining her rush of edginess – Nick absolutely gave her the creeps. He was evil, pure evil. His hair was long, pulled back at the neck; his suit, a bit rumbled. He reminded her of a street fighter. The fact that she didn’t get that same vibe from Cullen, and all the wolves in the building, was a bit confounding. Why not? Weren’t they all evil?
 

“Those tapes you want to review are ready,” Nick commented, speaking to Cullen, a moment before the heaviness of his gaze swept Kresley with a mixture of lust and contempt.
 

“I’ll go get to work,” she said quickly and started for the door, realizing with her retreat that she had a big problem. She was never going to get close enough to Cullen to get that ring, not while they were inside this building. She had to lure him away from his office, attack at a time when he was weak.
 

But as she sat down behind her desk, sickness settled in her gut. What if Cullen wasn’t evil? What if Adrian was using her to destroy someone who was good? Was that even possible? Could Demons be good?
 
Part of her didn’t want to know if they were. Then what? Then how would she save Lucan? She set the folder down–realizing it was clutched to her chest–and flattened her palms on the desk. She was not going to jump to conclusions.

The door to Cullen’s office opened, and Nick charged out of the door and stopped in front of her desk. He glared down at her – but said nothing.
 

A second later, Cullen appeared. “I have to step away for a while. The financial data for sections 2, 5, and 9 should be on the fax on my credenza within the hour. Plug those in and print off 12 copies of the reports. Don’t wait for me if you finish before I return.”
 

“No problem,” she said, thinking she was going to be so busy being his assistant, she was never going to figure out what to do next. "Consider it done.”

Nick cast her one last glare and headed toward the elevator. Cullen started to follow and hesitated. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some bills and tossed them on the desk. “Order some food.”
 

“Oh,” she said. “Yes. Any preferences?”

“For you,” he said, already turning away, only a few strides from stepping onto the elevator with Nick.

She swallowed hard and picked up the money. So what if he was a nice boss, right? He could still be an evil, murderous Demon. She really needed him to be an evil, murderous Demon. Because if he wasn’t, if there was more to all of this than met the eye, then her deal to free Lucan might not be a deal at all. And she refused to believe that. She ground her teeth. He was a Demon. One who’d spent centuries tricking innocent humans into believing he wasn’t. That was the truth. It had to be. So why couldn’t she shake the sick feeling growing in her stomach?
 

***

Almost nine o'clock, three hours after Cullen had left her to deal with the report, and there was no sign of his return. Thirty minutes earlier, Sheila had left, letting Kresley finish up the project for Cullen.
 
Now, with the work completed, Kresley set the stack of folders in his chair.
 

And finally, Kresley had a chance to look around Cullen’s office, but the late hour brought risk – more likelihood of Cullen’s return. Though he’d called and said he’d be at least another hour, there was no way to be certain. The temptation to go through his desk was driving her insane, and she’d already done a bit of casual snooping. But now, now she had to do more. Which was why she’d shut the door when she’d entered the office – she had to find answers, had to risk being caught.
 

With a deep breath, she started reviewing paperwork on his desk. Mergers. Notes about financial reports. Nothing out of the ordinary. She eyed the door in the corner behind his desk. A closet? A quick glance at the office exit, securely closed, provided little peace of mind. But she couldn't let this door stand in the way of her objectives. She'd come too far –immersed herself in the world of dark magic, done things she never would have done before.

Kresley quickly darted to the closed closet door and turned the knob, not surprised to find it locked. Her hands went to her hips–thinking. She remembered a key in the top desk drawer. She rushed to retrieve it, and raced back to the door. Bingo! It worked. Obstacle removed. Door opened.
 

Flipping on the light, she found herself in a ten-by-ten library with rows and rows of hardback books lining mahogany shelves. She scanned the shelves, certain there were secrets here. Why else lock the door? Why else hide this place?
 

Her fingers traced the spines of the books, her mind silently ticking off titles of books, noting those that seemed to indicate a study of humanity– history, archaeology, medicine, law, Bible. Bible? She took a step backwards and read again. Yes. A Bible. No …three Bibles – three versions. Her brows dipped. Was he studying the enemy?
 

She touched the black leather binding of the King James Bible, about to remove it, when the writing on a deep-red leather-bound book beside it caught her attention. What language was that? Or was it a language at all? Some sort of magical markings, maybe?
 

Interest piqued, the flutter in her stomach telling her she was onto something, Kresley removed the book, opened the cover, touched the razor-thin, yellowed pages that showed age. More writing in another language. She turned it over in her hand, frowned as she touched the engraved symbol on the back of the book – this one familiar – The Star of David, the son of King Solomon.
 

Her mind flashed to memories of the library at Jaguar Ranch, to some of the writings of King Solomon she’d read there. Her frown deepened. Solomon was important to the Knights; he was the protector of humanity who'd turned against God–the protector who Jag was to replace.
 

Something was wrong here, but there wasn’t time to analyze what. She firmed her hold on the book and started for the door, determined to take it with her; she'd decide later if she dared call Jag.
 

She managed one step forward before she paused; the tingling sensation of warning had started again. The hair on the back of her neck lifted, her chest tightened, adrenaline rushed through her veins, because she knew someone had found her, and she even knew who. She could sense his evil, his malice.
 

Sure enough, Nick appeared in the doorway, leaned on the frame. “Making yourself right at home, I see.” He stepped forward, his big body crowding hers, shrinking the already small space.

Kresley bit back the denial on her tongue, forced herself to silently count to ten before responding, to process and think. “No cable yet. I thought I’d hang out and read a little.”