“I wish,” she muttered. “A day after I woke up in the hospital, I had my first visitor—his wife.” Apparently, Jason had confessed everything to his wife, saying that he’d intended to leave her, but the circumstances around the world had made him see the light, blah, blah. That was why he hadn’t met Jillian in the parking lot like he was supposed to. He’d changed his mind about her and his marriage. His wife had been the one to come to the hospital and tell Jillian that the relationship was over.
“You were engaged to a married man?”
Humiliation spread like wildfire over her cheeks. “I didn’t know he was married. He told me he was divorced.”
“Bastard,” Reseph snapped.
“Can’t argue that one.”
Reseph studied her, and once again she got the impression that he was far, far older than he appeared. “Stacey knows what happened, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah. She’s the only one. Until you.” She squeezed his hands, grateful for his presence. “I was doing really well, and now… shit.” She closed her eyes, but it didn’t shut out what she’d seen in the neighbors’ trailer. “The same kind of demon butchered my neighbors, didn’t it? God, what if it was because of me? What if it’s here to finish what it started? Reseph, what if it’s coming after me next?”
“Then I’ll kill it,” he said, his eyes blazing. “I swear to you, Jillian, no monster will ever touch you again.”
A lot of men had made a lot of promises to her in her life, and she’d learned not to believe them. But she believed Reseph. She didn’t know why, but she did. Now she just had to hope that when he finally remembered who he was, he wouldn’t forget the things he’d promised.
Kynan Morgan climbed out of his rented SUV, his boots crunching in snow torn up by vehicles, including at least one snowmobile. He’d seen a flash of red metal through the trees as he’d driven up, but whoever had been here was gone, the fresh tracks leading off into the forest.
“Who do you think that was?” Arik Wagner, Ky’s partner and relative-by-marriage, stared off into the distance.
Ky peeled off his sunglasses. “Local, maybe?”
“Wanna follow the tracks?”
“Feel free, if you have snowshoes in your pocket.”
Arik snorted. “Ass.” He headed toward the house, halting at the door.
Neither one of them liked going into scenes like this, and the one they’d just come from down the mountain had been horrific enough that Kynan’s mind was still going back to it. Not to mention the fact that sometimes demons lurked near the scenes of their attacks, reliving the kill, feeding on the horror and fear of the humans who visited the scene. Kynan, at least, didn’t have anything to fear; thanks to Heofon, the amulet around his neck, and the charm that came with it, he was immune to harm from anything but fallen angels.
“Go, man.”
Arik opened the door. The odors common to death-by-demon scenes slapped Ky in the face, and he could only be thankful that it was winter in the north and that the house hadn’t been cooking in humid summer heat in Louisiana or some shit.
“Fuck,” Arik muttered. “Fucking hate demons.” He didn’t mean it… not about all demons, seeing how his sister was a werewolf mated to a demon, and Arik himself was married to one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.
Then again, Arik had spent a month in hell—literally, hell—being tortured. So he pretty much despised any demon he wasn’t related to or ha**ng s*x with.
Ky combed the house, taking note of the footprints, the claw marks, and the injuries on the victims. “Soulshredder. Just like the last scene.”
“So that makes two families in the area, plus a couple of hunters.” Arik drove his hands through his hair. “How many demons are we talking about, do you think?”
Kynan blew out a breath. “Definitely just one at each scene, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have a pair or even an entire pack hanging out in the area. The weird thing about it is how they’re killing.”
Soulshredders didn’t usually kill everyone at a scene. They liked to leave one person alive so they could torture them over time, coming back to the person every once in a while for years, driving them crazy, haunting them.
“And why here?”
“The demon or demons must be drawn here for some reason. Maybe to a person.”
“So we have to find the person.” Arik cursed. “I was really hoping for a quick in and out on this case.”
Ky cocked an eyebrow. “Limos keeping you busy?”
“You have no idea.”
“Oh, I have an idea. Gem wants another baby, and when they decide they want one…”
“They don’t think about anything else.” Arik nodded. “Yeah, I know. And Limos is… insistent.”
Kynan laughed. Yeah, Limos was definitely one to get what she wanted, when she wanted. And after five thousand years of celibacy, she had a lot of catching up to do. Not that Arik complained. Much. But the boy was always dragging ass. Sure, he dragged ass with a smile, but still.
“Okay, so let’s chart all the kills and see if we can get a bead on commonalities. Whoever the Soulshredder is drawn to will probably be inside the kill circle.”
Arik sighed. “I can’t believe we’ve been reduced to supernatural CSIs.”
“Someone needs to do it.”
“It used to be The Aegis’s job,” Arik muttered.
Bitterness coated Kynan’s tongue. The Aegis had been—and still was—the oldest and most major anti-demon force in the world, and Arik and Ky had been part of it. Hell, they’d run it. But the organization had broken apart three months ago, and Kynan, along with Val, Arik, Decker, Tayla, and Regan, and a few others, had been forced out.
Now Ky and the rest of the outcasts were working to build an agency that operated on the principles that had gotten them kicked out, but it hadn’t been easy. Most Aegis members preferred the “old ways,” which pretty much involved killing all demons, vampires, and shifters on sight. The Aegis didn’t believe in “good” demons.
But the new offshoot, the Demonic Activity Response Team, headed by Ky and the others, had recruited a few members, enough to form two bases, one in New York and one in Madrid. They were planning another DART office in Los Angeles. Unfortunately, The Aegis wasn’t being a good sport, and they’d been causing trouble where they could, when they could.
Kynan pried a piece of broken claw out of a cabinet. Sometimes DNA could be used to locate its owner. “The Aegis never really worked like this, though.”
Nope, The Aegis had been an uber-secret agency that mainly operated with its ear to the ground, taking care of problems as they heard about them through police and news reports and rumors. Now they were out of the closet and were so busy putting down demon rebellions around the world that they didn’t have time for small local issues like this one.
Which was where DART came in, filling a void that needed to be filled. They’d made themselves known and available to law enforcement agencies, and shit, they’d been kept busy. Most demons had gone back to Sheoul when Pestilence had been destroyed, but some had remained behind, preferring the human realm over the demon one—and honestly, Ky couldn’t blame them. Sheoul sucked.
“What if we’re dealing with a summoner?” Arik asked.
“If someone has been summoning this demon, we kill them, too.”
“And if it’s an unintentional summoner?”
Ky ground his teeth. This was where the job got tough. An unintentional summoner was someone who’d been marked by a demon for some reason… to be used as a breeder or as food or as an energy draw. In any case, the person would be a magnet for all demons of that species, which meant that killing a single demon wouldn’t solve the problem.
“We do what we always do,” Ky said. “We take them out.”
Eleven
Reseph rarely got angry. He might not remember who he was, but he knew that about himself. And he knew that the kind of fury he was feeling now was unusual. Something had hurt Jillian, had nearly killed her, and yet, she’d survived, coming back strong in a way he doubted many people did. And now she was afraid again.
Something was out there, hunting her neighbors and killing wild animals. He’d thought he was seeing things, but now he knew that a demon had been within sight of Jillian’s cabin. If it was the last thing he did, he’d take it out and mount its head on a pole to warn others. Don’t f**k with my woman.
His woman? And shit, where had he gotten the idea that it would be a good idea to mount a demon head on a pole? Whatever. He’d do it if it would keep Jillian safe. As for her being his woman, well, it would probably be best to get his memory back before he went all, you’re mine.
Especially since the nagging feeling that he wasn’t a Boy Scout was growing stronger with every passing hour. He had too many weird thoughts, knew too many f**ked-up things.
Maybe he’d been a demon hunter, like the people investigating the Bjornsen and Wilson killings. That might not be so bad. Might be kind of cool, actually. He’d hunt down the demon lurking here in the mountains, and then he’d track the ones who had hurt Jillian at the airport and make them feel everything they had done to her. Right after that, the ex-fiancé a**hole would have to go.
Another burst of rage made his blood sizzle. Nothing would hurt her again. Nothing.
“Reseph?”
He blinked, realized he’d been lost in his own mind like some kind of head case. “Yeah?”
“You were growling.” She was looking at him like she thought he was some kind of head case, too.
“Shit.” He brought one of her hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the silky skin. “Sorry. I just feel so damned helpless. I want to kill the thing that attacked you, and I want to protect you from everything else, but what if…” He trailed off, not wanting to voice his darkest fears.