Fury Unleashed Read online

  Anyone else and he’d have left them to take their chances alone.

  Maybe Hell had frozen over.

  Or maybe she was special. Tension seeped into his muscles, and he had to force himself to relax. Just because the sex satisfied him in a way nothing ever had was no reason to lose focus on the main goal—staying alive.

  Morrigan had her priorities, and he had his. If they diverged—

  He cut that thought off and got his head back into the game, something that had never been a problem until he’d met her.

  Right now, the goal was to catch a demon named Speed as fast as possible and get back to his place.

  Simple.

  He snorted. This was a trap, plain and simple. Exactly what Lucifer had in mind with this detour remained to be seen.

  People stared as they walked by. He always drew stares in public. Hard to be inconspicuous when he was as big as he was. It was why he generally stuck to the shadows.

  “Let’s get a drink.” He’d leaned down to whisper in her ear but had to almost yell to be heard above the music. Enhanced hearing had upsides and downsides, and being in a club with the music thumping so loud the floor was vibrating was definitely not fun.

  He headed to the bar with her following close behind him. It was easier for him to lead as people jumped out of the way to clear a path.

  Her shoulders were stiff, her chin tilted as she scanned the room. His little hunter was used to being on her own and didn’t like him calling the shots.

  Too bad. He was tougher and damn sure meaner.

  It rankled with her to be following rather than leading. Her eyes were practically boring a hole in his back. Amusement tickled him, but he didn’t smile, keeping all his emotions locked down.

  He walked right up to an empty stool at the bar and simply stared at the man occupying the one next to it. The guy grabbed his drink and made a space without being asked.

  Before she could take it, he sat on the stool with his back to the wall. She scowled but didn’t object, sliding onto the seat beside him.

  The bartender hurried over. “What will it be?”

  “Scotch.”

  “Vodka with cranberry juice, for me.” She placed her elbows on the bar and leaned forward. “I know it probably has some fancy name. I just liked the taste.” Her smile was a bit too friendly for his liking.

  “You got it.” When he caught Maccus’s glare, he paled and turned away.

  “That wasn’t very nice.” She took a napkin lying on the counter and began to spin it around.

  Maccus ground his teeth. “He’s still alive. That is me being nice.”

  “Bartenders are observant. I was hoping to chat him up, see if he’s seen anything unusual.”

  “We don’t need his help.”

  When their drinks were in front of them, she picked up the glass and saluted him before taking a sip. “To a successful hunt.” She had to pitch her voice so he could hear her above the music and other conversations going on around them.

  “You can’t get drunk, can you?” Last thing they needed was for her to be tipsy.

  “Nope. Well, not easily. My metabolism just burns it off. I’d have to drink a lot to even get a buzz on.” She spun around on the stool until she was facing him. He knew she’d normally never put her back to the room, but she trusted him to watch out for her. Until this was over, they were partners of sorts. After that, they’d go back to whatever it was they were.

  A therapist would have a field day with them.

  There was the slightest shift in the energy of the room. He’d known this was a trap. This was one time he wished he wasn’t right.

  He downed the drink in one mouthful and slammed the glass back to the counter. It shattered, glass shards showering all over his hand. Several pierced his skin, but as fast as the cuts appeared, they healed.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” She swiveled around, searching to see who or what had aroused his ire.

  It was a waste of time. There was nothing for her to see.

  The music continued to pump; people laughed and drank and danced among the flashing colored lights. Some of them were already drunk or high. Others were simply having a fun evening with friends. The air was ripe with the smell of booze, sweat, perfume, and sex.

  He yanked her stool back around and leaned forward. The pulse in her neck jumped. Her pupils dilated. He could kiss her right now, and she wouldn’t object.

  When her tongue swiped over her bottom lip, he cursed Lucifer and all his minions. Her mouth would taste sweet with a hint of tartness, like cranberries. She leaned closer and raised her head.

  “Lucifer is here.”

  That killed her arousal in a heartbeat. Her eyes went flat, and she stiffened, her breath catching in her throat. “Why would he be here? Why not take us at the motel? It would have been easier. Quieter.”

  “He’s taunting me. Us.” It was odd to think in those terms, even if it was only temporary. “He’s gone now. It’s a reminder of how easily he can get to you. We need to be extra cautious. Might not only be him.” He was close enough to brush his lips over her neck. He didn’t, but she still shivered.

  “You think Gabriel might show?”

  “No way to tell how much those two are in contact.” Gabriel had always kept a distance from Lucifer, but times had changed. There was no way for him to know.

  “That’s just great.” She grabbed her drink and took a huge swallow. “It was too much to hope I could catch the demon in peace.”

  “That was never going to happen.”

  “A girl can dream.” Thoroughly disgruntled, she scanned the club.

  He did the same, filtering out the lights and music, which wasn’t easy. Then there were the voices—laughter, shouting, and singing—the pungent smells—perfume, sweat, aftershave, liquor, and food.

  “There.” She pointed off to the left. There was a hint of something dark and deadly, but it disappeared too fast for him to pin it down. “Damn, it’s gone,” she muttered.

  He’d already moved on and zoned in on the energy signature they were seeking. He tilted his head to the left. “Demon just beyond the end of the bar. Opposite side.”

  Time to go hunting.

  …

  Time to get her head back in the game and remember why she was here. But this wasn’t a typical demon hunt. Already Maccus had sensed Lucifer. And there was something else she’d briefly detected before it disappeared.

  Problem with a big city like New York was that many different paranormals made their homes here. Maybe it was someone out for a night on the town. Or maybe it was another demon. Maybe even an angel.

  The cold chill seeped beneath her jacket.

  Focus, Morrigan, or you’ll end up dead.

  She casually looked down the bar to the area Maccus had pointed out. Sure enough, even with the flashing lights distorting him, she found her mark. And if she hadn’t been 100 percent certain, the cuffs in her pocket heated slightly, a definite confirmation.

  Demons could be tricky sometimes. She saw through their glamour, but they’d learned tricks to make it more difficult.

  Her target was currently holding court at a tiny high-top table like he didn’t have a care in the world. He was surrounded by women, some who were dancing and a few who were pawing him. Seemed Speed had money and was freely spending it on the ladies.

  Couldn’t blame a demon for having fun, but he’d outstayed his welcome, probably because his dick was having such a wonderful time with the honeys.

  “Let’s go.” The sooner this was done, the sooner she could get back to figuring out her own problems. She gulped down the rest of her drink and set the empty glass on the bar, careful not to shatter it. While she healed faster than a human, she still bled. Best to avoid any blood loss when possible.

  The unusual show of temper from M
accus had unnerved her. He was always so unemotional. Lucifer always knew what buttons to push to get a reaction.

  Taking the lead, she slowly meandered around the bar. It was a slightly longer route, but she cut through the writhing and jumping mass of humanity on the dance floor to give her some cover. If the demon bolted, she’d never catch him, not with so many people crowded together.

  Halfway to her target, a heavy hand fell on her shoulder. She whirled around, dagger half raised. As usual, Maccus was scowling at her. “What?” she yelled as she slipped the blade away, grateful some human hadn’t seen it and made a fuss.

  He yanked her toward him and lowered his head. Was he going to kiss her? She’d thought he might earlier but hadn’t.

  But no, he took her in his arms and began to move. They were dancing—okay, not really dancing, more like swaying in place, which was weird because the music was fast, and everyone around them was gyrating and jumping.

  Being so close, she smelled the soap he’d used in the shower, along with the natural male scent that she’d never forget as long as she lived. It was slightly spicy and hot and made her toes curl in her boots.

  “Why are we dancing?” She had a job to do.

  Her back was to her target, a situation she tried to remedy, but he wasn’t having any of it. He banded his arms around her and held her to him.

  “Demon sensed your presence. He looked your way.” The colored lights reflected on Maccus’s skin, giving him an even more otherworldly appearance. He hunched forward, trying to make himself smaller.

  Like that was going to work. Even bent over, he exuded a presence, a power that had other people moving slightly away so that they weren’t bumped on the packed dance floor.

  “Um, thanks?” Her preference was to track down her bounty, move in, and be done with it. If the demon bolted, she’d give chase. It was the way she always worked.

  Stopping to have a dance in the middle of things was new for her. Hot lips skimmed down her throat. She couldn’t suppress the moan of pleasure that bubbled up from inside her.

  “Demon. Hunt.” The ability to speak in full sentences had deserted her, something that happened too frequently since she’d met Maccus.

  He skimmed his lips over hers and then let out a short huff. “If we must.”

  She blinked and stared. Was he making a joke? Teasing? Most likely, he was serious. He wasn’t big on humor.

  “We must.” She shook away the sensual cobwebs ensnaring her. “Contract, remember?”

  He grunted and released her. Getting her bearings, she took the best track toward the demon. Thankfully, he was too busy slamming back shots and feeling up the blonde on his left while he kissed the brunette on his right to notice her.

  She waited patiently. Maybe it was small of her, but she enjoyed that initial jolt, the awareness in the demon’s eyes when he recognized who she was and why she was there.

  Oh, she was smart enough to understand it gave her a sense of power when she was truly powerless over anything in her life. But a girl had to take her pleasures where she could get them.

  Maccus, however, wasn’t nearly as patient. He reached out and tapped the demon on the shoulder.

  “Fuck off.” Speed barely raised his lips from the brunette long enough to speak.

  The woman snuck a look at Maccus, and her eyes went wide. Morrigan rolled her eyes. Yes, he was every woman’s bad-boy fantasy come to life. So what? Didn’t give the floozy license to eat him up with her eyes.

  Her fingers skimmed her knife. The brunette would get her head shaved if she didn’t stop staring.

  I’m jealous.

  She rolled her shoulders. They didn’t have time for this crap.

  Noticing his honey was no longer interested in kissing him, Speed opened his mouth, likely to tell them to fuck off again. His cocky expression slipped away when he got his first good look at them.

  It pissed her off that the demon was more concerned with Maccus than with her.

  Speed raised his hands. “Hey, I don’t want no problems, man. Let me buy you a drink.”

  Fed up, she pushed forward, shoving the brunette aside. “You need to be more worried about me. You’ve outstayed your welcome. Time to go home.”

  He glanced from her to Maccus and then to the exit.

  “Don’t even think about it,” she warned. Speed’s shoulders bunched. His head tilted toward the door. Adrenaline surged in anticipation of a chase.

  Maccus, the bastard, gave a subtle shake of his head, and the demon subsided.

  A flush of angry heat raced up her face, and she pursed her lips together to keep from screaming in frustration. Sure, the demon had reason to fear Maccus more than her. Her job was to apprehend and return. If a hunter killed, they’d better have a damn good reason. The demon knew that. Maccus, on the other hand, was an assassin with no constraints to keep him from simply dropping the demon where he sat.

  So yeah, she got it. Didn’t mean she liked it.

  “Hands,” she told him, out of patience.

  “Do we have to do this here?” he whined. The women were inching away, distancing themselves from what was going down—all except the brunette who kept eyeing Maccus.

  “Get gone,” she told the woman. “He’s mine.”

  Shit, she hadn’t meant to say that. Would Maccus laugh or, worse, repudiate her claim? They’d had sex. They had to work together for the time being. That didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in the brunette. Maybe he’d take her phone number to use later, once Morrigan was dead or gone.

  Well, the hell with him, with all of them.

  She’d worked up a full head of steam when he turned his black gaze on the human. “You heard her.” The woman paled and tripped on her high heels as she stumbled away.

  Something warm unfurled in her chest. She’d taken a step toward Maccus when the demon tried to bolt. Crap, she was going to muck this up. Being around Maccus made her brain cells sluggish.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” She whipped out the cuffs and held them in front of him. “Hands.”

  “Fuck.” The demon took one look at Maccus and held out his hands without complaint. She might not like it, but having him with her did make demon apprehension easier.

  She slapped the cuffs on, using a bit more force than necessary, and grabbed Speed by the arm. They were beginning to attract attention. Usually, she gave them some song and dance about being a bounty hunter. Technically she was, just not the kind they imagined. She wasn’t taking him in so he could go back to jail or be bonded out again. No, she was sending him to Hell.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she muttered.

  “Back door.” Maccus pointed toward a fire exit close by. He led the way, and she followed, keeping a hard grip on the demon. Not that she had many worries now that the cuffs were on him. That was always the tricky part.

  They went down a short hallway toward the lit exit. Hopefully, it would lead to an alley where she could call Emmett for pickup.

  “Come on,” Speed whined. “Don’t take me back.”

  His pleas fell on deaf ears. Morrigan had heard it all before. “You’re the one who didn’t go back on time. Not my problem.”

  “Bitch,” he muttered.

  She gave him a cold smile. “And don’t you forget it.”

  Maccus shoved the door open and stepped outside. The air was humid and heavy, unlike the cool, air-conditioned club. The alarm didn’t go off. She assumed she had him to thank for that.

  “I’ll call my supervisor and—” She broke off. Something wasn’t right. She shoved the demon up against a dumpster. Even more disturbing, Speed crouched down and made himself as small as possible rather than using the disturbance to try and bolt. The cuffs may have physically weakened him, but he still had the use of his legs and a powerful motivation not to go back home.

  Power f
illed the space. “Shit.”

  “Stay behind me,” Maccus ordered.

  Nodding, she pulled both her gun and short sword. Holding them made her feel better, kind of like a kid with her blanket or teddy bear.

  “Isn’t this cozy.” Gabriel strolled out from the darkness, shedding light before him. He was as gorgeous as you’d expect an angel to be, but he curdled her blood.

  “Why are you here?” Big and dark, shadows crept around Maccus, sliding over him in an almost sensual caress before heading toward the angel.

  When she took a step back, the demon grabbed her and pulled her in front of him, the coward. It was time to get her bounty out of here—one less thing to worry about.

  She slipped her sword back into the sheath and then eased her phone from her pocket. Keeping it down by her side, she hit the right contact and waited anxiously until the call connected. “Emmett,” she whispered, hoping the men were too caught up in each other to pay attention to her.

  “Now, Morrigan,” Gabriel scolded. “That’s cheating.”

  Crap, he had noticed.

  Emmett appeared with a frown on his face and irritation in his eyes just as a flaming sword appeared in Gabriel’s hand. Maccus manifested a pair of large blades that looked black in the light.

  She pushed the demon at her boss. “Take him and go.”

  She aimed and fired her gun, hitting the angel point-blank in the chest. The silver bullets bounced away. Not even a dent. It was like his entire body was covered in Kevlar.

  There was a scuffling sound behind her, followed by a whiff of sulfur. At least Emmett and the demon were gone. There would be plenty of questions later, if she survived.

  Gabriel pointed the tip of his sword in her direction. Light shot from the blade. She dove to the side, hit the asphalt, and rolled.

  Moving faster than her eye could track, Maccus shoved one of his blades straight in the path of the light, deflecting it. Redirected, the power flew like a bolt of lightning, slamming into a power pole. Sparks erupted, and the entire area went dark.

  Gabriel grinned. “Oops.” He strolled closer like he didn’t have a worry in the world. Behind her in the club, people screamed, and feet pounded as patrons tried to get out. More than one person would be hurt, possibly killed in the stampede for safety.