HunterUndone Page 7

  “Stay here and cover up.” He grabbed his spelled knife from the holster at his ankle, and walked over to yank open the door, grumbling under his breath about interruptions.

  He was only slightly surprised to find a furiously pissed off Deacon standing there, nearly vibrating with temper.

  “I thought so.” Deacon shoved his way inside, barely sparing a glance at Shay before he spun around to face Tyler and pointed at him. “It’s time to have that talk.”

  Tyler shut the door and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. His arm hurt like a son of a bitch, but he refused to let it show. Besides, the ache was nothing compared to his need to get Deacon the fuck out of Shay’s place. Old friend or not, Deacon was an unknown threat to her this pissed off.

  “You had a demon problem,” Tyler said. “I took care of it.”

  Deacon bared his teeth and pushed a hand through his messy hair. His brawler’s body looked tense enough to take on not only Tyler, but an entire battalion of him. He leaned back against the couch, a muscle in his jaw ticking violently. “Exactly. Less than a day after a demon hunter shows up in town, we suddenly have a demon problem? Why shouldn’t I kick your ass out of town for bringing danger to my people?”

  Shay shot up off the couch. “Jeez, Deke, chill—“

  Tyler shook his head at her. “It’s okay, I’ve got this.”

  Shay glared at him before heading into the kitchen, all those killer curves swaying.

  He met Deacon’s gaze head on. Maybe if he kept his tone reasonable, Deacon would get the hell out faster. “I don’t blame you for being pissed, but I’ve been fighting and killing demons for twenty-three years. One, I’ve never left one alive so it could come after me at another time. And number two, this demon was a joke. They don’t roll over and die that easily. Someone or something was controlling it.”

  Deacon pushed off the couch, shooting a pointed look at Tyler’s shoulder. “That doesn’t look like rolling over and dying to me. That thing took a chunk out of you.”

  Shay snorted from the kitchen doorway. Tyler shook his and headed toward the kitchen. “It’s nothing, and it looks worse than it is.”

  Deacon cocked an eyebrow as he followed, temper and leftover fear still simmering in his eyes. “Why should I believe you? How do I trust that you didn’t bring this problem to my town? Damn you, you put my woman in danger!”

  “Your woman?” Hayden said from behind Tyler.

  He closed his eyes and grit his teeth. Christ above, he was never going to get Shay alone again.

  Deacon swallowed hard. “You know what I meant, Hay.”

  Despite the urge to shove them both out the door so he could get Shay back on his lap, Tyler had to grin at the panic on Deacon’s face as Hayden snarled up at him, all furious, mutinous female.

  Tyler leaned an arm against the kitchen doorjamb. “Should we leave you two alone?”

  “Shut up,” Deacon growled at him at the same time Hayden snorted. “No, the caveman and I are going to my house. I saw his truck and figured he was here giving you hell.”

  Tyler had to lift a brow in amusement. With her hair in a bouncy ponytail and dressed in boxer shorts and a T-shirt, she barely looked older than Ivy. Let alone capable of reducing Deacon Stone to a quivering mass of panic. But Deacon didn’t even blink when she grabbed a handful of his shirt, kissed Shay on the cheek, and dragged him toward the door.

  This time, it was pure confusion that had him turning to Shay. “He could have stood stock still and she’d never have been able to drag him out. He knows that, right?”

  She took a hesitant step forward and looked up at him through pretty whiskey eyes as raised voices sounded from outside. “They have sex occasionally, and Deacon is smart enough to know if he ever wants to have sex with her again, it’s best to know when to pick his battles.”

  His brain blinked out at that word coming out of her luscious mouth. “I’m sorry, I lost everything after the word ‘sex’.”

  When her tongue skimmed over her bottom lip, Tyler decided she knew exactly what she was doing.

  She was trying to kill him.

  It was time to level the playing field, so he took a step toward her. Then another, slowly backing her into the table. In one fluid move, he hitched her up and spread her legs, stepping between them as he skimmed his fingers up the inside of her thighs.

  “Say it again.”

  She lifted her legs to wrap them around the back of his legs, and he groaned.

  Hooking her fingers in the loops of his jeans, she raised herself up slightly and dragged her mouth across his chest. “Say what again? Sex?”

  His hands shook as he grasped the top edge of her lacy panties and pulled them down. The second they were off, he was back between her legs and working at freeing her breasts from her dress. He knew he should slow down, take his time, but with every inch of her delectable flesh he exposed, the more desperate he became to get to it all. Claim it.

  “Holy fuck.” The words escaped him on a worshipful whisper as her breasts finally popped free of her top. He palmed them, watched her eyes nearly roll into the back of her head on a moan, then bent down to suck one tip into his mouth.

  ***

  Shay didn’t understand it. He’d only been touching her for minutes and she was so ready to climb him like a tree it should have been laughable.

  Only there was nothing laughable about what he was doing to her.

  She’d barely gotten used to the way he looked at her, like a hungry wolf who’d finally found his salvation dinner, when his mouth closed over her breast. A hungry greed pulsed out of him, a greed she was helpless to deny as she arched into him, clasping her hand to his head, prepared to beg him never to stop.

  She’d had men paw her before. And of course they all went right for her breasts. But Tyler worshipped them. Slow, greedy licks and sucks until her thighs were quivering and she was ready to come just from his mouth.

  Then…Holy Mary Mother of God, his fingers plunged into her and curved, sending her shattering over that blissful edge.

  She was still blind when his mouth closed over hers, his fingers gentle as they pulled out of her only to drive right back in. When she whimpered against his mouth, he nudged her back until she was lying flat against the table. He skimmed his lips over her throat.

  “Quiet, gypsy. Unless you want your friends to know you’re in here screaming for me.” He rubbed his thumb over her clit once, then twice, and lifted his head, a wicked grin on his gorgeous face. “Or we can give them something to talk about.”

  She shook her head and fisted her hands in his hair, dragging his mouth back to hers. “Stop talking. Need you.”

  She sensed his need for control, but more, she felt the rage of lust simmering on a fine point inside of him, and she knew he’d continue to focus on her until he felt she was ready for more.

  She almost snorted. She’d been ready to jump his bones the second she’d first seen him on the sidewalk, and she’d only wanted him more after every conversation and touch.

  So she did something she’d never done before in her life, because she’d never, ever give anyone that kind of power over her. Until now.

  She begged.

  “Tyler. Please, I need you.”

  He chuckled as his hands cupped her breasts, before he reached down with one hand and undid his jeans, shoving them down just far enough his cock sprung free. Her eyes went wide at the sight of it, and she had one moment of panic before he hooked his arms under her knees, spread her open and drove into her.

  She couldn’t help it, she screamed as pleasure burst inside of her. With his shoulders holding her knees apart, he twisted one hand in her hair and ravaged her mouth with a greed that nearly blinded her as he pounded into her like a man possessed.

  For the first time in her life, she couldn’t get her bearings. Couldn’t pull herself back and focus on something else to keep herself from going where someone else led. S
he was powerless to stop herself from following him to an edge she’d sworn never to go over, but when he lifted his head and she saw the raging lust in his bright blue eyes, she knew she was helpless.

  CHAPTER 9

  With nothing but the sound of their ragged breathing in the room, there was nothing to distract Tyler from the viper’s nest of spinning thoughts in his head.

  While having sex with her hadn’t been the worst idea he’d ever had, it sure as hell hadn’t been the smartest. Not with a demon problem crawling up his ass, a city that was going to want answers, and a dead mother who wanted him to solve her murder.

  All of it meant he was stuck in town for the foreseeable future. But the second all of that was handled, he planned on walking away and never looking back.

  Shay wasn’t the kind of girl you snuck out on in the middle of the night, though. He doubted she was the settling down, white picket fence type any more than he was, but he liked her. He liked her a hell of a lot, and that was going to lead to a shitstorm of messes neither of them were going to want to deal with.

  His face was still buried in her throat as he tried to get his heartbeat to slow down.

  She lightly tapped his ass. “Am I dead? I think I’m dead.”

  He chuckled. “You feel pretty alive to me, gypsy.”

  She snorted. Bracing her hands against his chest, she yawned and pushed herself up, giving him no choice but to move with her. Those whiskey eyes scanned his face for a moment before they went wide. She was across the kitchen like a shot, half trying to cover herself and half-sputtering and trying to point at the front door simultaneously.

  He knew what she was thinking. Even if it wasn’t written all over her face, he didn’t need to be told they’d just done something monumentally stupid.

  Or maybe he did. Settling into one of the chairs, not giving a shit he was bare-ass naked, with his pants around his knees, he kicked his legs out and twined his fingers behind his head. Shay confident and pissed off was sexy as fuck, but a Shay that was flushed from sex and off her game had his cock twitching back to life.

  “What’s the matter? You look…”

  She cut him off. “Like this was a bad—a very bad—idea.” She worked to pull up the dress bunched around her middle, and he wanted to cry when those breasts disappeared from view. “Tyler, I like you. Really. But this is a bad idea.”

  He scowled at the realization she was kicking him out. Though he never stuck around in the same town longer than it took him to finish a job, he’d learned a long damn time ago that Fate was a cruel bitch and he never knew if he’d see a woman again. So he made it a point to never leave on bad terms. If he was ever going to have a shotgun pointed at his head, there were plenty of other things he’d prefer it to be over. Hurting a woman was never going to be on that list. Which was how he’d developed his skill for hella good French toast.

  He had enough to answer for when his time was up. He’d prefer if he didn’t end up in Hell because he’d been careless with a woman he’d liked enough to spend the night with.

  “Yeah. I—” He pushed his hand through his hair, then fell back on the casual grin he used to extricate himself from normal awkward situations as he stood and pulled his jeans up. “You’re right. I should go.”

  He grabbed his knife from the counter top and tucked it into the sheath at his ankle. He winked as he headed toward the door. He didn’t look back as he walked out, closing the door behind him.

  His conscious didn’t let him get far. By the time he got to the SUV he’d parked on the far side of the pub, he’d gotten good and pissed at himself. He wasn’t a runner. Never had been. And John, the asshole who’d trained him from the day Tyler had turned ten, would shoot him himself if he found out Tyler wasn’t just running—he was running from a woman. Not a demon or a hellspawn or a hound from hell. But a woman. A four-foot-eleven, stacked bombshell had him running like she’d twisted him up and scared the shit out of him.

  Popping open the back of his vehicle, he grabbed his spare duffel and dug inside for a flannel shirt and a spare knife. He pulled the shirt on and tucked the witch’s blade into the waistband of his jeans.

  Then he started to head back to Shay’s house.

  While he wasn’t comfortable admitting it, she’d rocked his fucking world. He couldn’t put his finger on what had been different with her, only that for a moment, when he’d been inside of her, he’d felt…

  Something. Hell if he knew what, just that he’d felt.

  Pushing the thought aside, he hesitated outside the pub, then used his pocket knife to cut through the crime scene tape. He let himself in, his eyes narrowing at the distinct smell of brimstone permeating the air. It wasn’t unusual for a demon to stink to high Heaven, but this one had a distinct scent mixed with it that he hadn’t come across before. Almost like a cologne.

  He frowned and flicked on the overhead lights, before moving over to crouch in the middle of the dance floor. The ash that had been left behind after the bastard disintegrated had been ruthlessly collected, leaving not so much of a fleck of charred skin behind.

  The door opened across the room, but he didn’t look up. “Thought you were having it out with Hayden?”

  “She hasn’t forgiven me for ‘my woman’ comment yet.” Joining him in the middle of the room, Deacon crouched next to him. “You are becoming a huge pain in my fucking ass, Wade, you know that, right? This is a sealed crime scene you’re tampering with.”

  The corner of his mouth winged up slightly. “I killed it. And I figure you need my help a hell of a lot more than you need me following rules right now.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.” Deacon dragged a hand over his face. “Walk me through it. What are we looking for?”

  Tyler shook his head, his arms braced against his legs as he lifted his head and glanced around. “What did you see before I killed it?”

  Deacon glanced around, too, as if looking for whatever Tyler was trying to find. “I don’t know. I thought it was human at first. Thought you’d gone off the deep end.”

  Tyler nodded. “Until?”

  “The eyes.” Deacon stood up and lifted his arms, stretching his muscles as he continued to scan the interior of the pub. Tyler’s respect for the man bumped up even more at the cold, calm intellect he saw in his face. “It wasn’t the red at first. I’ve seen some fucked up shit going on with junkies before, and you can buy contacts to turn your entire eyes black. It was the dead in them that caught me. It’s a quiet town. No one here has eyes that deadened.”

  Tyler shifted his gaze to scan the faint outline from where the demon had fallen. “Did you see anything out of the ordinary while I was fighting it? Anyone just standing around, not surprised?”

  This time, Deacon closed his eyes as he thought about it. “I was focused on Hayden at that point, getting to her before the crowd trampled her. She’s so petite, you know? But…” He opened his eyes and frowned. “For a second, I thought I saw a shadow moving toward the bar. Not a person, exactly, just the shadow of one.”

  Tyler’s blood chilled. “Toward the bar? Where Shay was?”

  Deacon nodded slowly. “Yeah. But before I could swing back around, it had vanished.” He raised a brow as Tyler got to his feet. “What are you thinking?”

  “I don’t know yet.” He turned in a slow circle. “But like I said earlier, demons don’t fall the way this one did. I don’t want to say it, but I think it’s best you prepare yourself. Whether this thing followed me or not, there’s a reason it’s here. And the one thing I know for sure is that where there’s one, there’s bound to be more.”

  Deacon stared at him, unblinking, before tilting his head back and closing his eyes. “My guys aren’t capable of killing a fucking demon. Hell, most of them haven’t even fired their weapons outside a shooting range.”

  Tyler nodded and met Deacon’s gaze head on. “Which is why, starting tomorrow, you and I are going to train.”

&nbs
p; ***

  She smelled like Tyler.

  She disinfected the table they’d had sex on, then decided to scrub the kitchen to within an inch of its life. She even got on her hands and knees to attack the corners of the floor with an old toothbrush, before washing down the top of the refrigerator.

  And through it all was a montage she couldn’t shut off. Tyler’s face when he saw her naked. His face as he pushed her into orgasm just using his fingers. His face when he slid inside of her. His face when she came again. And then again.

  His face when she said it was a mistake and he needed to leave.

  He was the playboy, wasn’t he? For heaven’s sake, he had playboy written all over him, from that ridiculously cut body to that charming, wicked grin and those ‘come get what you want, babe’ eyes. So why the hell did she feel like she’d screwed everything up by telling him to leave?

  She loved her independence, damn it. She’d fought damn hard for every ounce of freedom she had, and she’d vowed a long time ago to never give anyone an inch who could turn around and take it all. So the fact that Tyler had known her body better than she did, had known what she was capable of more than anyone ever had, scared the hell out of her. For so many reasons it was actually laughable.

  Even if he didn’t have ‘one night stand’ written all over him, her family would never approve. And that was a road she’d never let Tyler walk down with her.

  She sighed and threw the toothbrush into the garbage.

  It was just one night, Shay. Get over yourself. He’s not out there crying into his beer that you kicked his ass to the curb.

  Feeling slightly better, she headed down to her bedroom to take a much needed nap.

  Someone knocked on the front door.

  She snorted as she jogged over to answer it. Ivy forgot her key more often than she remembered it, which was why Shay had long ago made a spare for Garret.

  She was already laughing when she swung the door open, only to go still as she found herself face-to-chest with a brick wall that could only be Tyler. No one else in town had that muscle, or size, or feel… or scent. The man smelled like sin and sex, and Shay had to bite on her tongue to make sure she didn’t swallow it.