Dark and Deadly: Eight Bad Boys of Paranormal Romance (100 page)

She cast a troubled gaze at the woods and then back to the stranger.

“What about your friend?” she asked gently.

“He’s gone.”

“I know, but…you don’t want to just leave him here, do you?”

He gave her a flat look. “Yes.”

Eyes wide, she watched as he unsheathed his machete. Graceful. Fast.
Cirque du Soleil.
With hellhounds

He walked through the blood-soaked clearing, paused, and drove his blade down to the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure they’re dead.”

Which meant they were still there, lying in bloody pools a few feet away. He pulled his machete free before bracing and bringing it down with a chop.

“What are you doing now?”

He gave her a dark look. “Making sure they stay dead.”

Oh.

“You shot three of them,” he said in a casual tone as he moved to the next.

“I did?”

He nodded. “Headshots on two of them.” He slid a curious glance her way. “How did you do that?”

“I’m a good shot.”

“But you couldn’t see them.”

“I could see you.”

He met her eyes, his narrowing. She hadn’t intended that to sound so deep, but it had. And now she felt like being the first one to look away would give it more meaning.

Alex went back to swinging his machete. Relieved, Lilly swallowed hard and glanced at the dogs near her feet. She heard a
thunk
and the blade resisted when he tried to pull it free. He had to put his foot down to tug it loose. Lilly’s stomach rolled at the sight.

“Not even a hellhound can come back from that,” he told her, clearly satisfied with himself.

“Good job?” she offered.

He gave a curt nod:
You’re welcome.

Methodically, he worked through the bodies of the hellhounds only he could see. Stabbing, severing. Sometimes he had to kick and hack. At Lilly’s feet, her sister’s dogs watched with curious eyes. All but Belle. She paced with agitation. Lilly gave her an uneasy look, wishing she understood the animal better—or at all.

“Let’s go,” Alex said, cleaning his bloody knife with snow before wiping it against his jean-clad leg and sheathing it.

Startled, she said, “Where?”

He walked right up to her without even
one
of the dogs making a move to stop him, took her arm, and turned her around the way she’d come.

“This way,” he said.

Well, that made everything clearer. Harley growled from her arms and showed his little teeth.

“Quiet,” Alex ordered.

Harley shut up but did the teeth-flashing thing whenever Alex looked his way. Alex kept hold of her arm and set a brisk pace, back to the trail, back to her Range Rover through a world of falling snow and isolation. Only a fool would go with him.

“You’re no safer out here,” he muttered, reading her expression.

She glanced over her shoulder. Four dogs trotted behind her. Even Belle, but she paused to look back with a wistful whine.

“I can keep up without you dragging me along,” Lilly informed him, a few steps later.

He looked at his long fingers wrapped around the sleeve of her puffy blue parka and reluctantly let go.

“Don’t slow down,” he warned.

No “or else” followed, but Lilly didn’t need it. She made sure she didn’t fall behind. If the hellhounds came back, she wouldn’t stand a chance against them alone. Her gun was empty, the dogs unpredictable, and she couldn’t even see the things. He, at least, had a weapon and knew what he fought.

Hellhounds. Did she really believe that’s what had attacked?

Yeah, evidently she did.

She pulled in a shaking breath and stared straight ahead. Not at the tall man beside her. Not over her shoulder, where his mutilated friend lay.

Jesus. That just happened.

“How did you know what they were?” she asked, out of breath as she kept pace.

“What are you doing out here all alone?” he countered instead of answering.

“Looking for my dog.”

“Try a leash next time.”

The man was infuriating. She would
love
to try a leash. But taking five dogs out on leashes was a death-defying act way above her skill set.

“I wasn’t walking them when it happened,” Lilly said. “Belle jumped the fence in my backyard a few nights ago. When I couldn’t find her, I came here.”

“Why here?”

Lilly debated the wisdom of answering. Belle had come here because this was where she knew. Her sister Amy’s cabin was not far away. Home, as far as Belle was concerned. But did she want this stranger to know that? Lilly settled on an edited version of the truth.

“They’re my sister’s dogs. She rescued them and trained them. I don’t know what to do with them. I don’t speak dog.”

The corners of his mouth kicked up.

“Where’s your sister?”

So much for circumventing that conversation. “She died. A few weeks ago.” Lilly paused and took a deep breath, hoping it would calm the welling emotions. “Belle took it hard.”

Those four words said way more than she’d intended and tears rushed the gates as her voice wobbled. Alex’s gaze lingered on her eyes, noting the pain there.

“That’s why you were crying,” he said.

She nodded, wondering how long he’d been watching her before she’d noticed. She took a deep breath and went on.

“Belle started acting funny when I was packing to take them home—to my home. I thought she’d get over it once we got there. I never had a dog until I had five.” Her laugh sounded weak. She cut it off before it became a sob. “I didn’t know what I didn’t know.”

Alex stopped walking. Lilly kept going, hoping to avoid whatever was coming, but Alex didn’t budge and reluctantly, she stopped, too. He made an irritated sound and came to stand in front of her, closer than she expected. She didn’t look up, though. Not even when he brushed a tear away with fingers warm from his pockets.

“What are you called?” he asked, his voice deep and a little rough.

She chanced a glance at his face. “Other than
demented female
?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners and amusement gleamed in the coppery depths. She tried not to stare, but even a hint of a smile changed his features, making him look younger. More approachable.

That didn’t make him any less dangerous, but Lilly couldn’t help but let her guard slip a little more.

“My name’s Lilly Winslow.”

“Lilly,” he said, testing the sound in that deep voice. Making her feel it in places she shouldn’t. “Like your eyes.”

He’d noticed her eyes? Disconcerted, she corrected his mistake. “Lilacs and lavender are purple. Lilies are white.”

He thought about that before nodding. “Lavender,” he said softly.

There was no reason for it, but the murmured word felt intimate. It made her agitated and achy. The way he said it, the way he gazed at her as he spoke.

“This trail leads to your sister’s place?” he asked, switching subjects so smoothly, she felt as if he’d manipulated her.

Suddenly distrustful again, she asked, “Why do you want to know that?”

“Relax, Lilly. I’m just trying to figure out why your dog came
here.
”

Oh. That made sense. He thought it had to do with the hellhounds but the reason was much simpler.

“This was Amy’s favorite trail. Up at the top, there’s a view that makes you feel like you’re in heaven.”

His eyes widened with surprise. She didn’t understand the reaction, but he didn’t give her time to question it.

“What was the dog doing when you found her?” Alex asked.

“Coming back down.”

He thought about that. She knew he was remembering how Belle had charged into the woods. Had she been chasing off the hellhounds? Would the big dog take on a creature that could kill a grown man—an
armed
grown man—in a matter of seconds?

“Where are you from?” she blurted.

“I wouldn’t be doing you any favors by answering that,” he said. “I’ve already told you too much.”

“Why? Is it a secret?”

The exasperated sound again. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Inquiring minds.”

He rolled his eyes and started walking again. Scowling, Lilly caught up with him.

“How did the hellhounds get here?” she asked.

“Why did you come back to help me?” he shot back.

“I didn’t. I was chasing my dog.”

“You didn’t have to stop.”

“Quit deflecting. Why are there hellhounds in these mountains?”

He exhaled heavily. “They were left behind.”

“By?”

“By someone who shouldn’t have been here in the first place. Your world and mine, they aren’t so different. They both have good guys and bad guys.”

“What do you mean, your world, my world?”

“Does your world have hellhounds?”

“No.”

“That’s what I mean.”

Lilly frowned. “So where the hell
is
your world?”

“Close.”

She didn’t like that double-edged response. Did he mean close to hell or close to here? The hard set of his jaw told her she wouldn’t get any more out of him, though.

Lilly tried coming at it from a different angle. “And you can just go back and forth between our worlds?”

“For limited periods of time.”

“Like a weekend pass?”

“That would imply I want to go where they send me.”

“You didn’t want to come here?”

“No.”

“Why not?” she asked, indignant.

“It’s never as nice as the brochure.”

She let that settle into her confusion. He hadn’t wanted to come here, but he’d been sent. To hunt hellhounds. With a
machete. Hellhounds
. Something humans weren’t meant to see but he could. So what did that make him?

She sucked in a shaky breath. “What about the ones that got away?”

“I’ll find them. Eventually.”

“And then you’ll go home? Back to your other world?”

He gave her another sideways look that did the talking for him.

Right. If he told her, he’d have to kill her. Best thing she could do right now was shut up and run. Fear made her calculate how fast she could get away and fear kept her by his side. She was screwed either way.

“Should I be afraid of you?” she asked.

He stopped and turned so suddenly she plowed right into him. He steadied her as he stared into her eyes. His glimmered with something she couldn’t define, but he touched her face again, as if he couldn’t help himself. His warm hand against her cold cheek, he leaned in. As if drawn. “Yes,” he said, his breath a hot burst against her temple. “You should be afraid.”

But fear wasn’t the emotion those words inspired. Lilly thought it might be a good time to breathe, but she couldn’t seem to do it until he stepped away. She had more questions—of course she did. But she kept them inside as they trudged on in silence. Her boots sounded loud against the dirt and grit. Her heartbeat sounded louder in her ears.

Alex kept the unrelenting pace, but now she noticed a limp on his right side. She remembered watching that leg being jerked, like something big had a hold of it. Her gaze moved to his arm. The sleeve of his coat had a sheen that looked like blood. How badly was he hurt?

She didn’t ask that either. Her silence seemed to trouble him, though. She intersected several sideways glances but she couldn’t tell what he might be thinking. Maybe he was wondering how to ditch her and she wouldn’t have to worry about running away before she led him right to her sister’s isolated cabin.

“Humans aren’t supposed to know about things like hellhounds,” he said as if she’d been peppering him with questions and finally wormed the answer out of him.

It was the second time he’d worded it that way and she couldn’t let it go, no matter the voice of self-preservation shouting in her head.

“Humans?”

“You should think they’re a myth, not have to gun them down to stay alive.”

She kept her voice steady, when she wanted to exclaim. “What about you, Alex?”

He shot her a guarded look.

“Shouldn’t you think the same thing?”

“No.”

Because he wasn’t one. She heard it loud and clear. But he certainly looked human.

“You look human,” she said.

“It’s intended.”

Something deep moved through those words, something she couldn’t begin to guess at, but she felt the confusion and frustration behind them. She wanted to pry, make him tell her what it meant, all that feeling shadowing his eyes.

“But you’re not human? That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?”

He’d been looking ahead, scanning the gloom-filled trail. Now he turned his beautiful, unusual eyes on Lilly. They made her feel unsettled inside, like a leaf caught in a riptide.

He walked with shoulders raised against the cold, his arms tight against his body. He looked like the man next door. He looked like the man you’d never get close enough to know, no matter how hard you tried. A gust blew his dark hair across his forehead and tugged at the fleece of his jacket, but he didn’t look away. Lilly couldn’t.

“Yes,” he said. “That’s what I’m saying.”

His voice was tight. She’d forced a confession he hadn’t wanted to make. And yet, beneath his ire, she heard regret that settled around them like the silent snow. All Lilly knew about him was that he carried a big knife, had eyes like pennies in the bottom of a well, and he didn’t think he was human. No common ground existed between them. Yet in that moment, she felt as if they shared more than a bloody patch of snow and unanswerable questions.

Whoever he was, he didn’t intend to hurt her, but he didn’t belong here. Like the hellhounds she couldn’t see, Alex was from a different place. One forbidden to humans. One Lilly knew must be fraught with danger. A smart woman would take her dogs and run, and Lilly had always considered herself smarter than most.

But when Alex said, “We need to move faster,” Lilly didn’t counter with “Why don’t we go our separate ways?”

Instead, she picked up her pace.

They were near the bottom of the trail. In her mind, Lilly could see the bend up ahead and the sharp slope that led down to the road. She’d left her Range Rover—
Amy’s
Range Rover, (Lilly drove an economical Prius when she wasn’t carpooling with five dogs)—tucked up behind the giant boulder that marked the turn-off to the cabin.