Releasing the Hunter hn-168 Read online

Her eyes fluttered closed, then she mumbled sleepily, “Yeah, well, I think I may love...” Her words trailed off as she fell asleep.

  “I’m in love with you, too, Ivy Strom.” He pressed his lips to her temple, drinking her in, savoring each second he had with her. He knew too well how everything could change in a blink of an eye. How it was going to change.

  He watched her sleep for an hour, smelling her, touching her skin, her hair, anything he could without waking her. Then, as carefully as he could, pulling his arm out from under her head, he rolled over onto his back and started planning.

  * * *

  The bright light streaming in through the dingy window stabbed Ivy in the eyes as she blinked them open. She closed them again. Shutting the light out and yawning, she rolled onto her back. She opened her eyes again and stretched, trying to work out all the kinks that had settled into her muscles. And there were a lot. From the past few days of fighting, and, well, from a hot session of awesome sex.

  Thinking of sex, she turned her head to the side looking for Ronan. But he wasn’t there beside her. He must’ve gotten up to eat, most likely. The man did have a healthy appetite. Except when she put her hand against the mattress, the spot was cool, as were the sheets, as if he hadn’t been there for hours.

  She sat up, swung her legs off the bed and stood. She searched the floor for her clothes. She found her pants and T-shirt and her ruined panties. Once she was dressed, she shoved the panties into her pocket to toss in the trash later. Opening the door, she padded out into the corridor toward the kitchen. She heard male voices.

  But neither voice belonged to Ronan. Just Quinn and another guy, Pete, she thought, sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee, by the delectable smell.

  Quinn smiled when he saw her. “Good morning. Well, afternoon.” He got up and went to the stove. “Need some coffee?” He poured it into a cup and handed it to her.

  She took it absentmindedly. “Where’s Ronan?”

  Quinn shrugged. “Thought he was still sleeping with you.”

  “No, he must’ve gotten up early.”

  Pete looked at her over the rim of his coffee. “I’ve been up for hours and I haven’t seen him.”

  “Okay, thanks.” She took her coffee with her as she went back to the little room where they had stowed their stuff. With one hand trembling, she opened the door. Her stomach was churning and she licked her lips to keep from getting sick.

  Her duffel bag was on the floor just where she’d put it, closed and looking untouched. But Ronan’s gear was gone. Instead, on the floor was a white envelope with her name scrawled across it.

  She bent over and picked it up. She turned it over in her fingers, afraid to open it. Afraid of what was inside. No matter what words he put there, it wouldn’t fix the withering agony inside her. It was quickly filling her to the brim.

  With the envelope pinched between her trembling fingers, she shuffled back into the kitchen.

  Quinn frowned at her. “What’s wrong?”

  “He’s gone.”

  Her brother didn’t say anything for a minute, just looked at her. “Maybe he had something to take care of. Did you read the letter?”

  She shook her head, then put a hand up to her chest where her heart pounded so hard it felt like it was going to burst out from between her ribs and fall to the floor, ripped up and torn into shreds.

  Then Quinn’s frown deepened and he pushed to his feet. “Ivy? Where’s your necklace?”

  She looked down and ran a hand over her shirt, the pain in both her gut and her heart doubling. The necklace she never took off. The one she’d been wearing to bed. It was gone. Ronan had taken the key.

  Chapter 28

  Ronan paced the shoreline of the bay, waiting for Reginald and his cabal goons to show. The fog swirled around his boots like gray smoke. He’d told the sorcerer to come alone, but he knew that would never happen. Reginald was too much of a coward to come by himself. A coward. Ha, he should talk.

  He’d snuck out of the farmhouse in Sumner like a thief in the night. Which was exactly what he was. He’d stolen the key, Ivy’s precious necklace, from around her neck while she’d been sleeping. He’d quietly slipped from the bed, dressed, grabbed his gear, with the cross in it, and snuck out of the house. He’d hoofed it down to Main Street and hot-wired a car, speeding down the highway back to San Francisco.

  Now he held the key in his hand, fisted tight, while he waited for the man who’d paid him to acquire it.

  Not for the first time, he had to swallow down the lump of guilt that kept coming up. His gut was constantly churning. He’d never felt this kind of remorse before. It was damn near killing him.

  He’d almost not done it. He’d been lying there beside her, listening to her breathe, taking in her smell and the heat of her body next to him and he nearly just rolled over and forgot about the key and what it meant to him. He’d almost forgotten how many years he’d been searching for a cure. Almost.

  Ivy meant a lot to him. He loved her. But the demon blood that ran through his veins would always come between them. It would be a constant bone of contention for them.

  The irony of the fact that he had to steal the key from her, thereby ruining any chance of them being together anyway, wasn’t lost on him. He understood the risks when he’d slipped the chain off her and slid it into his jacket pocket.

  He just didn’t realize it would hurt him so much to betray her.

  Ronan stopped pacing and listened to the sounds around him. The lapping of the water against the shore calmed his nerves a little. He’d always felt safe around water. The sounds and smell centered him, gave him a sense of peace. Something he was in desperate need of. He’d chosen this spot along the bay for that reason, and also because water dampened magic. He wasn’t sure why; something about the living ions in water molecules. All he knew was it would prove to be difficult for old Reggie to zap him with some sinister spell so close to the water. That was a good enough explanation for him.

  He pulled out his cell phone from his pocket and checked his messages for the tenth time since arriving back in the city. Still nothing from Ivy. This shouldn’t have surprised him. What did he expect? Her declarations of love and anger over what he’d done to her? He should’ve expected silence from her. He’d just betrayed her in the worst way.

  But he was hoping for a message, one that said she was coming to find him and kill him. He could handle that, maybe even would have pleasure in the fact that she cared enough to look for him. The silence ate at him. The silence was telling.

  He shoved the phone back into his pocket just as he felt something stirring in the air. It wasn’t the same sense he got when a demon was near, but it was close. Reginald Watson had arrived.

  The sorcerer stepped out of the darkness and into a pool of moonlight. He gestured to the surroundings. “Interesting choice for a meeting.”

  “I like the water.”

  Reggie just smiled, but it wasn’t one of friendliness; it held traces of arrogance and malevolence. The sorcerer knew exactly why he’d chosen this spot. The grin gave Ronan the creeps. He should’ve never gotten involved with the cabal. They were bad news.

  Out of the corner of Ronan’s eye, he spied two other sorcerers hiding in the shadows, one on either side. It was obvious Reggie didn’t trust him, or in fact might just try and kill him when the transaction was done instead of giving him the cure.

  “Do you have the key?”

  Ronan nodded.

  “Let me see it.”

  “I will, but first I want to know what you plan on doing with it.”

  Reggie frowned. “Why does that matter? You didn’t care when you took the job.”

  “It matters now.”

  He stepped toward Ronan, his hands folded in front. “What do you think we’re going to do with it, Ronan?”

  “Open the Chest of Sorrows and take Solomon’s grimoire to release the demons.”

  Reggie chuckled. “You’ve been doing your homework.” He
pointed at Ronan. “Let me guess? Quianna Lang?”

  Ronan didn’t say anything.

  The sorcerer shook his head. “She’s always been meddlesome. Doesn’t know her place.”

  “You can’t control them,” Ronan said.

  “Of course we can. The cabal’s power is limitless.”

  “I imagine Solomon thought that, too.”

  “Yes, well, he was one man. We are many. And we have been training for this for centuries. Now is the time to fulfill our destinies.”

  “You’re delusional, Reggie. No one can control that many demons. Not even if there were one hundred of you. Which I know for a fact, there aren’t.”

  He moved a little closer to Ronan. “There are enough of us not to be trifled with.” He held out his hand. “Now, give me the key.”

  “I just have a few more conditions first.”

  “You’re changing our arrangement.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Reggie shook his head. “I don’t like changes, Ronan. I really don’t.”

  “First off, I want you to make a pact that you won’t ever harm Quianna Lang. Or Ivy and Quinn Strom.”

  The sorcerer clapped his hands together and laughed. “Oh, dear boy. That’s what this is about? Ivy Strom? You fell for that bitch. I can’t believe it.”

  Ronan took a step toward him. “Better watch your mouth, Reggie, or I’ll knock all your teeth out.”

  “Testy, testy. Doesn’t look good on you, Ronan. I thought hellspawn didn’t have feelings.”

  “I’m only half hellspawn.” In a single second, he’d breached the short distance between them and grabbed Reggie around the throat, lifting him off the ground. “And our deal is off.”

  Reggie flung out his hands to the sides. Blue light ignited from his fingertips. Ronan could feel an electric sizzle in the air and knew he was about to get an enormous shock to his system.

  He dropped Reggie and ran toward the water just as the other two sorcerers rushed out of the darkness. They also had blue sparks bubbling on their fingertips. Ronan drew his gun and fired on the one closest to him. The bullet grazed the sorcerer’s arm. Crying out, he grabbed his arm. It was enough for the magic blue sparks to disappear.

  Ronan swung around to the other one, but it was too late. The sorcerer let go with a blast of magic. It hit Ronan in his left side. It was like being electrocuted. He dropped to one knee, gritting his teeth as pain shot through his body. Thankfully, the water had dampened the effects. He imagined that burst of magic should’ve stopped his heart.

  The one sorcerer advanced on him, likely thinking he had put Ronan down. Pity for him. Ronan swung his gun up. This time he didn’t miss. The bullet took the sorcerer in the gut and he dropped to the ground.

  Ronan pushed to his feet and started for the water again. If he could jump in, he would be safe. He could hold his breath for a long time. Besides that, the cabal’s magic couldn’t touch him in the water.

  As he sprinted, he could hear Reggie running behind him, his breath coming out in harsh pants. “You’ve doomed yourself for her, Ronan.”

  I know, he thought, but she’s worth it.

  A blast of magic erupted right behind him. Bits of dirt and rock hit him in the back of the legs. But he didn’t slow.

  “You’ll never be human again. You’ve lost your one and only chance for a cure.”

  Another blast, this one a little closer. The blue bolt zipped across his right leg. It burned a hole in his pants. Luckily, it missed his skin.

  He was a foot from the water’s edge. Another blast came. This one grazed his left arm. Agony seared through him and he dropped. Right into the water.

  Ronan pushed with his legs and went under. There was instant relief on his singed arm. He kicked hard and dove down deep. He swam out a ways, and then came up to the surface. He spied Reggie and his injured minion glaring out at him from the shoreline. He lifted his arm out of the water and gave them the finger.

  “It doesn’t matter, Ronan,” Reggie shouted at him. “You’ve done all this for nothing. You’ll never be with her, hellspawn. You think I’d let the Stroms live? They know too much. They are too much of a liability.” Reggie’s laughter echoed off the water’s surface. “While you bob up and down in that water, my people are stripping the flesh off their bones.”

  Ronan’s heart thumped hard and his gut roiled at the thought. But he didn’t believe it. Both Ivy and Quinn were too smart and too careful to be ambushed by some cabal sorcerers. Still, dread filled him and he had to swallow down the fury that bubbled up inside him.

  If he found this to be true, there would be no place for Reggie and his ilk to hide. Ronan would hunt them all down and kill them, nice and slow. He had a lot of talent with a knife and oodles of patience.

  Ronan turned and dove back down into the water. He had parked his stolen car about a mile down the shore in the event of something going wrong. Like it had. He would swim there, get in and find Ivy. Just to make sure.

  Chapter 29

  Ivy unlocked the front door of the old bungalow and walked into the foyer. It had been over two years since she’d been in the house. It was the house that Quinn and she had shared with their father before he died. After his death, she and Quinn had lived there until Quinn did a runner. Then she’d stayed for maybe a year before forging her own path into the demon-hunting world.

  But it felt good to be back. She flicked on the hall light. Everything was as she’d left it. All the furniture had been covered with sheets. The place had a musty scent, though, but nothing some open windows and air freshener wouldn’t cure.

  She dragged her bags into the living room, then dropped them onto the hardwood floor. She whipped off the sheet from the sofa and collapsed onto it. She was exhausted.

  The trip back from Sumner was long, hard and trying on all her emotions. She’d driven straight through without any long stops. The only time she did stop was to use the facilities or to get coffee and food.

  Quinn had asked her to come with him to track down Ronan. But she’d refused. He’d left in another vehicle intending to find the cambion and kill him. Ivy didn’t want to be a part of that. No matter what Ronan had done, she couldn’t see him harmed. Well, maybe just a little. But by her hands, and no others.

  She didn’t want to know what Quinn planned on doing. It was out of her hands. Her brother would do what he wanted. He would do what he had to, to retrieve the key. She understood that. The connection to honor and loyalty and a person’s word. It had been ingrained in her, as well. Their father had been huge on doing whatever it took to do the job. The job was the most important thing. Nothing else mattered.

  Ivy ran her hands over her face and sighed, leaning her head back on the sofa pillows. She used to think that, feel it, live it. But after meeting Ronan and falling for him, she realized that there was so much more than following a path, adhering to a code. There was great sex and love and all the messed-up crap that came with it.

  She looked at one of her bags on the floor and reached over with her foot, hooked it and dragged it over. She unzipped it and took out the white envelope with her name written across it. She had yet to open it. She was afraid to.

  What if Ronan took the key and left because he’d been using her this whole time? What if he truly didn’t have any feelings for her? Then her ideas that she’d never truly been worthy of being loved would be confirmed. She didn’t know if she could face that. Sometimes she liked her delusions. They were safe.

  She tore open the envelope and slid out the plain white piece of paper. She unfolded it and read.

  Ivy,

  I could say I’m sorry, but I know that doesn’t cut it. I imagine nothing would make what I did okay. To know that I have been searching for a cure for years, that I loathe the blood inside me, wouldn’t be enough. But do know and believe this...

  That I didn’t fall for you because of the key. I fell in love with you because of you.

  Ronan

  She read it twice,
then crumpled it up into her fist and tossed it across the room. Tears stung her eyes and she was about to wipe them away when she heard a noise at her window.

  She jumped to her feet and rushed to the big bay window. She pushed the drapes aside and looked out into the yard and onto the porch along the side. There was no movement. But she sensed someone was out there, watching her.

  Unsheathing one of her blades, she moved to the front door, quietly turned the knob and stepped out onto the porch. A cool light breeze blew her hair around her head and over her face. She looked to the right and then to the left but didn’t see any movement. A dog barked in the distance and she could hear the faint revving of a car engine nearby.

  Then she spied it. A glint in the cypress tree in the yard. There was something hanging from one of the branches. Glancing around cautiously, Ivy stepped off the porch and crossed the lawn to the tree on the far corner.

  Each step grew heavier and heavier as she drew closer to the tree. She knew what was hanging there and it formed a lump in her throat.

  When she was right under the branch, she reached up and touched the thing hanging there. It was her cross necklace. It was the key.

  She pulled it down, and gripping it tight in her hand, she twirled around the yard. He was here somewhere. She knew he’d watch her retrieve it. She knew he’d been at the window watching her. She could always feel when his gaze was on her. It made gooseflesh rise on her skin.

  “Ronan,” she called.

  A dog barked. Wind chimes tinkled somewhere nearby. But there wasn’t any answer.

  She returned to the porch, and instead of going back inside, she stood there and waited and watched. Maybe if she stood there long enough she would see him flit through the shadows. Maybe he would come to her, himself.

  “Ronan,” she called again. “I know you’re there.”

  Still no answer. Just the rustling of the leaves in the tree.

  But after an hour of standing there, her legs cramped and her stomach grumbled reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in over eight hours. She went back inside, the key still clutched tight in her hand.