Releasing the Hunter hn-168 Page 8

  “I want to know more about this key.”

  He nodded and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ve set up an appointment with a contact of mine. She’s a demonologist and knows everything there is to know about King Solomon and his grimoire.”

  “When?”

  “In an hour.”

  She stood and started back toward the bedroom. “It’ll give me time to sharpen my knives.”

  “Ivy...”

  She stopped but didn’t turn around to face him. “We don’t need to talk about it. It doesn’t matter.”

  “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I lied to you. And I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  “You didn’t.” Then she kept going into the bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind her. She leaned against the wood and fought back the hot prickles at the corners of her eyes. She wouldn’t let the tears fall. And she’d be damned if she ever let Ronan see her cry, especially because of him.

  She balled her hands tightly, digging her nails into her palms, and took in a few deep breaths. She would put on her mask and show him it didn’t matter, that he didn’t matter. It would be one of the hardest things she’d ever done, but she’d do it, just as she always had.

  Forty-five minutes later, they were back in the truck, racing down the highway toward San Francisco State University. Ronan’s contact was a woman named Quianna Lang who was a professor in the humanities department. Supposedly, she was a guru on all world religions, with a slant toward demonology.

  They parked in visitor parking and crossed the campus to the gray humanities building. They went in and up to the fourth floor to Quianna’s office. Ronan knocked on the closed door.

  “Come in,” a youngish female voice sounded from within.

  Ronan opened the door and he and Ivy stepped into the cramped office. The woman behind the desk stood and came around to them. She was a petite woman, with a warm smile but cold, hard eyes. Ivy wondered what she’d seen in her life to give her that fierce gaze.

  “Ronan.” She embraced him with a familiarity that almost grated on Ivy’s spine. She shook off the feeling and met the woman head-on.

  “This is Ivy Strom,” Ronan said. “Ivy, this is Quianna Lang.”

  The little woman held out her hand to Ivy. She shook it and Ivy noticed Quianna had a firm, solid grip even with her dainty-looking hand. “It’s a pleasure, of course, to meet you, Ivy. I’ve heard a lot about you and your family.”

  Ivy just nodded, unsure how she felt about the woman. She gave Ivy an unsettling feeling. Like she’d just walked through a cold spot or someone’s restless spirit.

  “I met your father once.”

  “Really?” Ivy cocked one eyebrow.

  “Yes.” Quianna sat on the edge of her desk, and then turned to regard Ronan. “So why the meeting?”

  “We need to know all you know about Solomon’s grimoire and the key to the chest that supposedly holds it.”

  Quianna’s face paled. “Are you serious?”

  Ronan nodded. “Supposedly Quinn Strom has the key.”

  “And?” She looked from Ronan to Ivy and back to Ronan.

  “And the Crimson Hall Cabal have hired this one—” she gestured to Ronan “—to find it and bring it to them,” Ivy added, loving that the little demonologist just fixed Ronan with a lethal stare worthy of any deadly hunter. She was impressed.

  “You dumb ass.” Quianna slid off the desk and went toe-to-toe with him, although she was a good seven inches shorter. “You can’t give them the key. If they find the chest and open it, you can’t even imagine the power that will be unleashed.”

  “Don’t you think you’re being a bit overdramatic?” he asked.

  Quianna swatted Ronan on the side of the head. “Don’t you think you’re the dumbest man on earth?”

  Ivy broke out into laughter. To see the little spitfire cuff a big man like Ronan had tickled her silly. Because the look on his face, one of astonishment, was priceless to see.

  Quianna turned to Ivy. “You seem like an intelligent woman. Can’t you talk some sense into him?”

  Ivy put up her hand in defense. “I don’t own him. He’s his own person. I just want to find my brother. I don’t really give a shit about the rest of it.”

  “Well, you should.” She sat back on the edge of her desk. “Did you ever stop to think why your brother disappeared? Maybe it was to hide the key. To keep it from evil hands, like the Crimson Hall Cabal.”

  “Do you know where he went?” Ivy stepped toward her, suddenly frantic to know something, anything. Any tiny straw would do to grasp.

  Quianna shook her head. “I don’t. And even if I did, I don’t think I’d tell either of you.”

  Ronan sighed. “Qui, just tell us about the key. Let us deal with the morality of finding it.”

  She looked at him, then at Ivy and shook her head. “I don’t think either one of you would know morality even if it hit you in the face.”

  Ivy had to admit she was probably right, but she certainly didn’t like to hear it so simply stated. As if it was obvious just by looking at her. “Look, lady, you don’t know me, so keep your opinions about my character to yourself.”

  Quianna frowned, then shrugged. “Fair enough.” She slid off the desk again and went around to slump into her high-backed leather chair. She spun it around to her bookcase, pulled out a huge black-encased tome and slammed it down on her desk. She flipped through the pages. Then, settling on one, she turned the book around and slid it toward them. “This is what the key looks like.”

  Ivy and Ronan gazed down at the open book. On the left page was a pencil drawing of an elaborately decorated key, not unlike something from the past. A skeleton key. On the opposite page was a drawing of a plain wooden chest.

  Quianna tapped the paper. “This chest supposedly holds the grimoire that King Solomon used to conjure his demons.”

  “Where’s the chest?” Ronan asked.

  “Nobody knows.”

  “So essentially the key is useless unless you know where the chest is,” Ivy stated.

  Quianna met her gaze, and there was something inside her cold gray eyes that sent a shiver down Ivy’s back. “Theoretically, yes.”

  “Thanks for the info, Qui.” Ronan looked at Ivy. “Let’s go.”

  Ivy nodded and followed Ronan to the door. Before they crossed the threshold, Quianna gave them a warning. “You don’t know what you are messing with, Ronan. You think you know what real evil looks like? You have no clue. Those who open the grimoire will be cursed for life.”

  Both Ivy and Ronan looked over their shoulders at the professor. She’d risen from her chair and was staring after them with a look of determination on her thin pale face.

  “Give the key to the cabal and you risk your immortal soul.”

  “Too late,” Ronan said. “I lost it the night I was turned into a demon.” He swung back around and left the office.

  Ivy watched him go, not fully realizing until this very moment how damaged he was from being turned into a cambion. She knew he struggled with it, but had no clue how much he loathed his very existence.

  And now she understood his motives for wanting to find her brother. He was going to trade the key for something that would turn him back into a full-blooded human. She didn’t blame him for it. She’d likely do the exact same thing.

  “He’s going to need your help, Ivy,” Quianna murmured. “At the end.”

  “What? Have you seen the future?”

  “Yes, actually, I have.”

  Ivy frowned. “I’ve never met anyone with that ability before.”

  “Yeah, well, now you have.” Quianna sat back in her chair and cocked one eyebrow at her. “Believe me, if I could turn it off, I would. The future isn’t looking too good. I can’t tell you more than that.”

  Unnerved, Ivy nodded to Quianna, then walked out of the office to follow a man she was just beginning to understand but couldn’t be more confused about.

  Chapter 14
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br />   They didn’t talk as they made their way back to the truck. Ivy claimed the driver’s seat, and as they pulled out of the parking lot she glanced at Ronan. “Your friend is a bit intense.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, but she knows a lot.”

  “She may have a lot of information, but she doesn’t know everything.”

  Ronan turned and looked at Ivy. She gave him a half smile. And right there he knew she’d accepted his apology and that they were back to being on an even keel.

  He returned her smile, then looked out the side window. Quianna had been right about him, though. His morality would be in question if he gave the key to the cabal. He had heard rumors about the grimoire but never thought it was real. Just an old myth to scare people. And he admitted it worked. The thought of that book being in the hands of immoral beings like Reginald Watson frightened him to the core. But it wasn’t the book he was supposed to deliver, it was only the key. A key that was useless without something to unlock.

  This was his one and only chance to be normal again. The cabal had a cure to his cambionism, a cure for the blood poisoning him every second of every day. Exchange the key for a cure. He’d do anything for that opportunity. He’d do anything to be human again, including stealing the key from Quinn Strom. They just had to find him first.

  As Ivy pulled out onto the major highway that would lead them back toward his place, her cell phone jingled from her jacket pocket. She retrieved it and flipped it open. “Yeah?” While she listened, she nodded, then glanced at Ronan. It must’ve been the call they were waiting for.

  “Okay, see you in a few.” She flipped the phone closed and slid it back into her pocket. “That was Jake. He has a lead. We’re going to meet him down in the Castro.”

  “The Castro?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Didn’t ask. Don’t care.”

  Ivy parked the truck on Market Street and they got out and walked up to Castro Street and to the historic Castro Theatre. Ronan normally didn’t visit the area, famed for its diverse gay community, but he had been to the theatre once before when they were playing the director’s cut of Blade Runner, one of his favorite movies.

  He loved the look of the theatre—old-school movie going with elegance and extravagance. The chandelier in the main movie hall made him think of the nostalgic era of Hollywood when movie stars were untouchable, classy and cool. Not like today, he thought.

  Ivy bought two tickets to the show at the round ticket booth out front and they went in. She nodded toward the left staircase. “He said he’d meet us on the balcony.”

  As they ascended the stairs, Ronan said, “Seems like a strange place for a meeting.”

  “It’s dark, it’s private and no one would ever think to look for us here. So I think it’s damn near perfect.”

  He chuckled at that. She was right.

  The balcony was empty save for one person near the overhang. As they approached, Ronan could see that Jake was a pretty big dude—bulging muscles under a tight black T-shirt and denim jeans. He looked like an army commando; he even had the buzz cut to go with it.

  He lifted a hand to Ivy as they neared, then his face changed and he was rushing up the aisle with a knife in his hand, right toward Ronan.

  Ivy must’ve noticed it the same time Ronan did, because she was jumping in front of Jake, her hands on his chest. “Wait. Stop.”

  He pushed past her and reached for Ronan. But Ronan was faster and he jumped clear over two rows of seats and away from the bruiser.

  “He’s a demon, Ivy.”

  Ivy smacked him in the chest with the palm of her hand. “He’s not full-blooded. He’s a cambion. And he’s with me.”

  Jake lowered his knife, but didn’t sheath it. “Never knew you to be soft toward the hellspawn.”

  Ronan’s hands fisted. He had a violent urge to pummel the guy into the ground. Jake reminded Ronan of all the hunters he’d dealt with over the years. Arrogant and ignorant.

  At first he’d thought of Ivy that way. But as he’d gotten to know her a little, he realized she was far more intelligent and multifaceted than anyone he’d met before.

  “He’s not hellspawn. I suggest you keep your opinions of things you know nothing of to yourself in the future.” She poked him in the chest. “I like you, Jake, but not that much.”

  Jake looked at Ronan one last time, then sheathed his blade back under his shirt. “It’s your rep on the line. Not mine.” He returned to his perch at the edge of the balcony overhang.

  She followed him there as Ronan came around the rows of seats to set up a position along the railing, close enough that he could hear what was going on but not where Jake could take a cheap shot at him.

  “So what do you have?” Ivy asked.

  Jake handed her a folded piece of white paper. “My sources tell me that your brother was seen at this address.”

  She took it and opened it up. “Where is this?”

  “Washington.”

  “Are you sure this is legit?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

  “How long ago was he seen?”

  “About two weeks.”

  “So he could’ve moved on.”

  Jake shrugged. “Sure. You know Quinn. He doesn’t stay in one place for long.”

  Ivy pocketed the note. “Thanks, Jake. I appreciate it.” She held out her hand to him.

  He shook it, then glanced in Ronan’s direction. “Are you sure about him?”

  Ivy met Ronan’s gaze. He could feel her probing stare even in the dark. Her eyes were that piercing. Finally, she nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  “Okay. I’ll keep your liaison to myself.”

  She snorted. “I don’t give a shit if you tell everyone. I know what I know, and that’s all that matters to me.” With that she headed back down the aisle. Ronan fell into step beside her.

  They didn’t talk until they were back outside and headed toward the truck.

  “Do you trust the lead?” he asked.

  “Going to have to. Jake’s usually a stand-up guy, plus it’s the only thing we got to go on.”

  “So, to Washington, hey?”

  She shrugged. “Looks like it. We’ll go back to your place, pack our gear and head out. If we drive all day and night, we could make it there by tomorrow night.”

  He nodded. “Okay.” He paused with his hand on the handle of the passenger door. “Are you sure you still want to find your brother with me? I could end up causing a ton of problems.”

  She looked at him for a long moment, then shrugged. “You already have. Besides, you’re not bad company. You at least know how to fight. So that’s something.” She opened her door and got in, but not before he caught the slight twitch of her lips.

  Chapter 15

  The sun was low in the sky as Ivy took the ramp from the I-80 E onto the I-5 N. They were almost four hours out of San Francisco and heading into Oregon. The trip so far had been quiet. Neither of them had really spoken much. Although deep down, Ivy had a ton to say. She just didn’t know what words to put together.

  Something had definitely changed between them. Twice. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about any of it.

  Best to keep her true thoughts to herself. Once they found Quinn, Ronan would get what he wanted and disappear. She had no doubt about that. Besides, it was best for everyone if he did. It wasn’t as if they were going to become friends, or partners, or...

  Best to let it go. Best to let him go.

  Seeing Jake’s reaction to Ronan’s presence made it clear to Ivy that her and Ronan’s liaison would not go unnoticed. And that the hunting community might not be so accepting of it. A community that she’d been part of since she took her first steps and spoke her first word.

  Which just happened to be demon.

  Mind made up, she drove in silence, every now and then changing the radio station to get something decent to listen to. Thankfully, that was one thing she and Ronan had in common, an eclectic taste in music from Motow
n to Metallica.

  “Do you want me to drive?” Ronan asked. “You can catch some sleep. You look like you’re going to hit your forehead on the wheel any second.”

  “No, I’m not.” She yawned. Then rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She pulled over onto the shoulder and parked the truck.

  There was virtually no traffic on the road. She opened her door and jumped out to come around as Ronan just slid across the seat. Once she was back in, she fastened her seat belt and balled up her black hoodie. She crammed it in against the side window and leaned her head against it. “Wake me in a few hours to switch back.”

  Ronan put the truck in Drive and pulled back onto the road. Ivy closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep. She was usually pretty good about sleeping in various spots, having been on the road all her life. She could basically put her head down anywhere she felt safe and fall asleep.

  And she was just about asleep when Ronan yanked the truck to the shoulder and squealed to a stop.

  Her eyes flashed open. “What the hell?”

  “Get out of the truck!” he shouted, just as he flung open the driver’s door and jumped out.

  “What...” Then she saw the look in his eyes and remembered the incident in her garage. Without another word, she threw open her door and jumped out. She grabbed her bag from behind the seat just as Ronan was tossing their gear out from the bed of the truck.

  “Take what you can and run!”

  He snatched up as much he could. She helped him with the rest and they ran out into an open field. Ivy jammed her foot between two large rocks and took a hard spill to the ground. Ronan stopped and turned, running to her even as she scrambled to her feet. But her left ankle had taken a twist and couldn’t support her full weight.

  “Go. I’ll follow,” she grunted as she tried to put pressure on her foot, wincing as the pain zipped up her leg like electricity.

  Ronan dumped his personal bag and picked her up without any effort. He started to run with her in his arms.

  “Don’t be stupid. You can’t—”