Carnage (Hell Hounds MC, #1) (2 page)

Read Carnage (Hell Hounds MC, #1) Online

Authors: Susan Hayes

Tags: #fated mates, #angel, #demon, #shapeshifter, #shifter, #bounty hunter, #alpha hero, #biker, #shapeshifter biker hero rescues tortured heroine

With that, he vanished, leaving behind a larger than usual cloud of smoke and a blackened floor.

Asshole.

Car sent a quick text to Havoc to let him know he was going on a mission and wouldn’t be back until it was done. Hav would take over running things until he got back. He always did. If Car chose rebirth, Havoc would become the leader of the Hell Hounds. Car snickered to himself. Hav would never fucking forgive him for sticking him with that role, but he was the best man for the job.

He was still chuckling as he teleported into the sealed vault beneath the floor of the clubhouse. He needed to stock up on weapons and gear before heading out, and the vault was every mercenary and murderer’s idea of Christmas morning. Thanks to some magical manipulation of space/time by their exalted and egomaniacal liege, the vault was far larger than the clubhouse that sat above it. It was the ultimate arsenal, acres of real estate containing every weapon known to man, and a fair number that weren’t. In his line of work, they had to be prepared to face things humans didn’t even know existed.

There were times he envied them their ignorance. He slept better before he had learned the truth about the world. Of course, now he was one of the things other creatures feared. The leader of Hell’s personal hit squad. There was a time he thought it was a decent trade-off. These days, he wasn’t so sure.

Once he was armed and geared for battle, he pulled the scrap of leather out of his pocket and held it to his nose, drawing his target’s scent into his lungs. If anything, it affected him even more strongly this time around.

Lust surged through him, and it was all he could do not to groan aloud as his still half-hard dick turned to fucking stone again. He shifted his cock in his riding leathers and shook his head to try and clear away some of the fog that filled his head. He needed to focus, to use his hound-like senses to track his prey through the ether. It was one of the powers the Devil had given them when he made them into what they were... the Hounds of Hell, Lucifer’s personal bounty hunters. Once on the scent, there was no place on Earth, Hell, or even Heaven that a being could hide from him.

Eyes closed, body still, he reached out with his other senses, looking for the woman whose scent had him hard and aching in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was a mortal man. Time slowed as he hunted for her through the ether, traveling across the country to her last known location then working outward until he found her and locked onto his prey. Now he had her, she couldn’t escape. Leta Fury didn’t know it yet, but she was already caught.

He dematerialized and began the etheric journey to his prey. It wouldn’t take long to reach her. With any luck, she would give up quickly. He wanted this job done fast. Not because Luc wanted it done that way, but because he didn’t like the way her scent affected him. He didn’t need distractions. The sooner he got this hunt over with, the sooner he could find a willing woman and fuck his way back to sanity.

CHAPTER TWO

L
eta was having a good night, which usually meant things were about to go to hell in a rocket-powered handcart. That was the way her life went. Anytime things seemed calm, or she found a reason to be happy, something happened, and it all went sideways. Not even the threat of pending chaos was going to stop her from enjoying the moment, and the double chocolate fudge brownie sundae she had just ordered.

One of the perks of her parentage was that she could eat whatever she wanted without gaining weight. It was one of the few things she enjoyed about her unique birth. The rest of the package ranged from being merely irritating to downright dangerous. Perpetually looking nineteen years old and being asked for ID every time she needed a drink was irritating. Having an uncontrollable ability to set fires with nothing more than a thought was highly hazardous to everything and everyone. Everyone but her, since she was apparently fireproof.

Like most of her abilities, her fireproof nature was something she learned about by accident. A teenage temper tantrum had turned her bedroom into a fiery conflagration that nearly took the whole house with it. She walked away unscathed, completely untouched by the flames. That little mistake had gotten her kicked out of yet another foster home. It also resulted in her case file including words like pyromaniac and potential arsonist.

She hadn’t bothered trying to explain herself. How could she? No one would have believed her. No one ever did. Being a firebug was bad, but being a crazy girl who believed she could set fires with her mind would land her in a psych ward for the rest of her life. One thing her mother had made clear to her before she died was that staying in one place too long wasn’t an option if she wanted to stay alive. She had to stay ahead of the ones hunting for her, and she couldn’t do that if she were locked up.

The home she nearly burned down had been her last foster placement. Her last attempt to fit in, to try to be normal. By the time she was seventeen, she was on her own. It was safer for everyone that way.

“How’s the sundae, honey?” her waitress asked from behind the clean but aged counter of the little all-night diner Leta had picked at random.

She flashed the woman a rare smile. “Perfection, thanks.”

“You let me know if you need anything,” the waitress said with a tired nod and went back to mating ketchup bottles.

Leta was the only customer in the place, which was hardly surprising given that it was the middle of the night. She didn’t need much sleep, and what little she required she usually got during the day when it was safer. Not everything she hunted was nocturnal, but enough of them were it was easier to sleep when they did. It cut down on the number of things hunting her while she was vulnerable.

Because of that, she spent a lot of time in diners and coffee shops like this one, where solitary figures and late night meals were the norm rather than the exception.

She was still working on her dessert when the hairs on the back of her neck lifted, and a warning chill chased down her spine. With a sigh, she set down her spoon
. What’s a girl gotta’ do to get some quality time with her dessert?

Whatever it was that pinged her radar, it was still too far away to identify. She could already sense it was powerful, though. In fact, it was seriously supercharged.
Shit.

Before she could formulate a plan, the throbbing rumble of a motorcycle engine caught her attention. It was still too far away for human ears to detect, but the waitress seemed to sense something was about to happen. She stopped what she was doing and went through the door that led to the kitchen. Leta hoped she had the smarts to stay there, out of the line of fire.

The engine noise grew louder, and Leta got to her feet, loosening her muscles with a few casual rolls of her shoulders. A single headlight appeared, and she breathed a sigh of relief. At least there was only one of them to deal with. There was no doubt in her mind that she would have to face whatever it was. If she were lucky, it would be nothing worse than a stray vampire from the nest she had destroyed the other day, though she doubted it. She had never met a vamp even half as powerful as whatever the hell was coming her way. More likely, it was one of the fallen, or an angel coming to investigate the strange energy she gave off. Thanks to her unlikely parentage, Leta’s life force was unique, and that attracted supernatural attention everywhere she went.

Lucky me.

She dropped a handful of bills on the table and walked outside, hoping that whatever it was, it would come for her and not bother anyone still inside. She wasn’t exactly the heroic type, but she hated it when innocent people died because they had the misfortune to be standing too close to her when shit went sideways. There was enough blood on her hands as it was, including her mother’s. Her ledger was already so deep into the red it would take her several mortal lifetimes to redress the balance. Leta held out little hope she would survive anywhere near that long. There were too many things in the world out to kill her. Like whatever was coming her way right now. One more monster to slay before she could call it a night. If she made it through this fight, she was going back into the diner and finishing that damned sundae.

* * * *

C
arnage traveled thousands of miles in a matter of minutes. The pull of his target’s scent made tracking her almost too easy. She was a beacon in the darkness, and he closed in on her faster than he had ever tracked anyone else. There was something different about her. Something that drew him in and had his hound fighting to slip its leash and run.

He followed the trail to an all-night diner, then backtracked a mile or so before materializing on a quiet stretch of road. He would travel the rest of the way by more conventional means. There were humans around, and materializing out of thin air always attracted too much attention. He checked his weapons and summoned his mount from the ether. His ride was a gleaming chrome and steel steed that had long ago replaced the horses he and his kind had once ridden. In a moment of sadistic humor, Luc had infused each Hound’s motorcycle with the life force of his horse, leaving them to deal with the challenges of having a sentient mount that could travel over two hundred miles per hour and stop on a whim. It was a good thing the Devil had also made his henchmen damned near impossible to kill.

His prey was standing outside by the time he parked the bike, her entire body bristling with tension as she watched him dismount. Her black hair was tied back in some sort of elaborate braid, and she was dressed to fight, from her black combat boots to the red and black leather coat that swirled around her calves.

Her scent saturated the air between them, making his entire body ache with need. Between the hard throb of his cock and the howling protests of his hound, Car was fighting hard to keep control over his own damned body.

I need to get my shit together before I get my ass kicked by a girl.

Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten. Every step he took brought him closer, revealing more details about the woman he had been sent to retrieve. The photo Luc gave him didn’t do her justice. In person, she was gorgeous and far more dangerous. Everything about her screamed of violence, from the hard set of her jaw to the wary gleam of her stunning blue eyes.

“Hello, Leta.”

“How do you know my name,” she demanded. “And what the hell are you? I’ve never sensed anything like you before.”

“Me? I’m something special, just like you are. And I know your name because you’re my mission. One I plan on wrapping up in the next few minutes.” He kept walking, closing the distance between them at a steady pace.

“You’re mistaken. I’m not anyone’s mission.” She fluttered her lashes at him in coy flirtation, but there was ice in her eyes as she did it. “I’m just a sweet lil’ girl trying to get along in the big, bad world. Whoever sent you, they’re going to be disappointed. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Car was impressed. It wasn’t often he met someone who stood up to him without the slightest hint of fear. The beauty in front of him was angry and defiant, but those were the only emotions he could read.

She shifted her weight, making it appear she was about to take a step backward, but instead of moving away, she lunged toward him, lashing out with a wicked looking blade that hadn’t been in her hand a second ago.

He deflected her first attack with ease, but while he was focused on her knife hand, she managed to whip herself around into a spinning kick that slammed into his jaw with surprising force. Stars exploded behind his eyes, and it took him a moment to get his bearings again. Those precious seconds were all the time she needed for his pretty little prey to regain her feet and dance back out of reach once more.

“Sweet cheeks, I’ll answer all your questions once you stop trying to fight me. I don’t want to hurt you, but you
are
coming with me, one way or another.”

She snorted with laughter. “Like hell I am. I’m staying right here, and once I’m done with you, I’m going to go back inside and finish my dessert. You’re standing between a woman and her chocolate right now. Trust me, that’s not a good place to be.”

“As much as I hate the idea of depriving you of your sugar rush, I’m going to have to insist.” Car pointed to his bike without taking his eyes off of her. “You sure you don’t want to do this the easy way?”

“Positive. But hey, points for actually asking me nicely. No one’s ever tried that approach before.” She held the knife out in front of her, her movements inhumanly graceful as she made the blade bob and weave in an almost hypnotic dance. “You’re not human, and that means I can’t trust you. You’re like all the others. You’re here to hurt me because of what I am.

He tore his gaze from the dancing blade to look her in the eyes. “Trust has nothing to do with it. You
are
coming with me. The only question is whether you’re going to make the trip as is, or slightly battered, bound, and gagged.” His cock twitched at the image of her trussed up and laid out before him like a sinful feast. Oh, the things he wanted to do to her.... If she only knew, she would be running like a rabbit instead of trying to skewer him.

Leta didn’t know what this guy was, or who sent him, and she had no intentions of sticking around to find out. Her instincts were screaming at her to get away from him. Not only because he was an unknown creature and an obvious threat, but because there was something about him that was messing with her head. She never talked to the ones who hunted her. She didn’t do banter or witty conversation. She either fought or fled.

This time, something was different.

“Bound and gagged, huh? I bet that’s the only way you can get a woman to come anywhere near you.” Even as she tossed the barb back at the big man, Leta knew it wasn’t true. He was the walking definition of sex on a stick. Well over six feet tall and clad from head to boot in black bike leathers, he moved like a predator and looked like a god. Dark blonde hair hung to his shoulders in waves. His hard-edged features could have made him a fortune in Hollywood if it weren't for the fact his eyes were a strange, glowing amber with a thick ring of black around the outside.

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