Demons: A Hunter's Novel, Book 1
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Authors: Felicite Lilly
DEMONS
A Hunter’s Novel
Book 1
(Yes, this is a series. But
there is an ending to part of the story contained in this book.)
Felicite Lilly
This book is a
work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events, locales or persons living or dead is coincidental.
Copyright © 2015
by Felicite D. Lilly
All rights
reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form
or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact
Felicite Lilly directly through the copyright office or
[email protected]
.
First Edition
March 2015
Dedications
Chris, my husband,
for always supporting me when I needed it, which is always....
Ethan, my son, for
bringing unpredictability and endless joy to our lives.
My Mom and Dad
(Loukia and Bill) you are where all this started…without you I wouldn’t have
been able to do this.
Nichole, my
sister, for always encouraging me to write…even though some of your ideas were
off the wall, they were always funny.
Moira, my friend,
you supported my love for this book from the beginning encouraging me to toss
that first book. You were right. (Now that it’s forever in print I won’t ever
say it aloud).
Jenny and Becky,
my BFF’s, so much of these characters reflect you ladies. I put you together,
because that’s who you are, forever close to each other and to me.
Erin C., my
friend, thank you for reading this and being honest with me always. I need
that.
Kristen, thanks
for reading and being the last eyes on this one before publishing.
Diana, for giving
me a wonderful “author photo”
Cover design by
uniqudesignxx (I bought all rights to the cover, but I still give her credit
because she did such a phenomenal job!)
To all my readers:
I hope you enjoy the journey as much as I enjoyed
writing it.
I wrote this for
you.
“Deep down I know this never works, But you can lay with me so it
doesn’t hurt.”
– Sam Smith, Stay With Me
I
needed the numbness like a heroin addict needs their next fix. Or at least to
be distracted for a few hours, or days, depending on if this guy could serve his
purpose for that long. Which from the monotonous blabbing he was doing about
his work, and his great life, and all of his money, was going to happen.
He
had already tediously described his house. I didn’t give a fuck about his
house. I didn’t care that he had an oval whirlpool bathtub that was next to a
window with a view that overlooked the main strip of downtown Miami. I didn’t
give a rat’s ass about anything but getting in this guy’s bed, fusing my body with
his and leaving everything else behind. For those brief moments I could pretend
the guy I was with was actually the man I wanted inside me. The man who truly
owned me body, heart and soul.
For
now, though, the guy in front of me was talking about school and his direction
in life. The numbness this man was causing started to set in when I realized he
had spoken to me.
“…it’s
like I didn’t know where I was headed until I found medicine, you know?” He
said. I nodded my understanding, even though I didn’t.
Right,
he was a doctor, I almost forgot. (Insert sarcasm here.) He had been talking
about medicine and being a doctor every two seconds. It was part of why I had
agreed to this “date”. He was a self absorbed, cocky doctor.
I
knew he’d suit my purposes perfectly when he had tried picking me up at a
Starbucks with, “…as a doctor, I don’t know what I would do without this nectar
of the Gods.” (Shaking his non-fat double shot mocha latte, iced, of course.) “Although,
I imagine your nectar’s pretty sweet, too.” He said as he wagged his eyebrows
suggestively at me. I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not but I also
couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of me. He mistook my laughter for
interest in him, when it was really because of the absurd line he had just
delivered. There was no way I was laughing at
him
right?! That I wasn’t
interested in
him
. As I said: cocky and self absorbed.
But,
at the moment, I didn’t care. I just needed to be pulled away from my painful
reality. The hard part of me was the only part I had let remain over the last
six months. I had shelled out all of the soft parts of me with fucking random
guys.
The
first few were the worst. I’d cry after we had both gotten what we needed. Every
one of those guys couldn’t hit the pavement fast enough and I couldn’t say I blamed
them. I’m pretty unstable. So, I had warmed up to this Dr. Douche and hooked
him, although he didn’t know it.
Even
though I didn’t give a sizzling shit about what he was saying, I had to pay
attention now because he was actually talking to me instead of at me. I hated
that. I just wanted the numbness again.
“So,
what do you do?”
It
was the only real question he had asked me in the hour we had been out
together. Not a bad record. I couldn’t respond with the truth of what I did: I’m
a Hunter. I kill things that shouldn’t be on earth. You say that to someone
from the human world and they tend to call the looney bin to come pick you up. That
and the fact that there was a severe punishment and fine for any one of us that
spoke of Hunter business to someone outside the Hunter organization. I held my tongue.
I didn’t feel the need to tell this guy about the only thing left in my life
that I cared about.
“Administrative
assistant. For an attorney.” That sounded good. It was either that or school
teacher. And I knew I didn’t come off as a school teacher. I could tell this
guy wanted an assistant, not someone who could teach him something.
The
end game for both of us was him and I horizontal and naked. The next question
he would ask would probably be along the lines of, “Wanna screw?” I had done
this dance enough times to know the next step and when to dip.
I
knew his mind set and where his mind was headed after the profession I gave
him: me in a tight black pencil skirt and button down blouse, undone to see the
swell of my breasts, my hair up in a tight bun. My glasses low on my nose,
leaning over his desk – my boobs on display for his pleasure alone.
“You
wanna come back to my place? For a drink.” He had added that last part quickly.
Bingo. Anything to numb this constant gaping pain in my chest.
The
reason I needed the numbness at all was that I, as I am known to do, stepped
over a line that should have never been approached, let alone crossed. I didn’t
just step over the line either. I blasted through it like a bull running toward
a red cape. However, looking back, I would have done it a million times over
for the happiness and love I had in my life. For the short time it had been
there. But I had ended it. As a result, I don’t really live now. I just drift
through a meaningless existence of one night stands, pain and hollowness.
I
suppose you could say I was being selfish when I dropped the love of my life
like a bag of bad fish and, in a way, I was. I couldn’t stand the thought of
either of us dying because of our relationship. So I had broken up with him to
keep him safe, and me as well, at least my physical self.
Emotionally,
I was a terrorist bomb. One where the ingredients had been found online and you
were only kind of sure the right ingredients were there…unstable and extremely
dangerous. I know you think I’m being dramatic. And I most definitely can be,
but not this time.
Everything
in my life had disintegrated into a fading Polaroid; a photo of us smiling and
happy, one that was nothing more than a yellowish tinge of the vibrant colors
it had once been.
Now,
back to the anesthetizing.
“I
don’t know…” I couldn’t just say yes, that would’ve made me look like a slut.
“It’s
one drink, come on.” Yeah right, just a drink. He batted his eyelashes at me
and I stifled a laugh. What a girl.
“Alright.
One drink.”
One
fuck, one night of freedom from my invisible hell.
He
waved down the next waitress that walked by to get the check. He paid cash and
left a nice tip. Normally a guy like him didn’t. I was a little thrown off by
it, but he was probably just trying to impress me. It didn’t work. This guy
couldn’t buy my respect. But that didn’t mean he still wasn’t what I needed.
We
were out the door and down the road a few minutes later. He hailed a cab and
took me toward wherever we were going to fuck. We pulled up to an apartment
building and it was not what I was expecting. It was a barely standing,
shithole apartment building not far away from where I did the majority of my
hunting. Demons were my specialty and this was their stomping ground.
A
doctor, like this guy, wouldn’t live here even if it was an on-the-side
fuck-pad for him. When the cab pulled up to the curb, I cautiously stepped out
of the car and pulled out my hand mirror acting like I was fixing my makeup,
trying to stall and making a play toward innocence. There was no way he was
getting me upstairs. I knew plenty of hiding spots in this area.
He
turned back to me when he realized I wasn’t walking next to him and said:
“You
coming?”
No.
“I
just remembered I have an early morning meeting. Wanna come to my place instead?”
Where I have all my weapons?
“We’re
already here, just come up for a minute.”
I
focused fully on this “person” in front of me, dropping my protection shield that
had been firmly in place for some time now, to find out how hard it would be to
kill this asshole with what little amount of equipment I had on me. A sick
twisting of my stomach followed. It felt as though I had chugged a bottle of
laundry detergent. I had been next to this guy more than once, and for an
extensive period of time. I should have had a feeling, an inkling, something,
even without focusing. But, no, because I wanted to be numb, I let myself be
prey.
The
Demons had six levels of hierarchy. The bottom three (six, five and four) were
minions and not that big of a deal. The next two (three and two) were strong
and hard to kill. The top tier of Demons was impossible to kill and included
the Devil (aka Mastema) himself.
This
Demon was strong, if I had to guess a tier three, which meant I couldn’t kill
him with what I had on me. Injure, yes. But he’d kill me before I could get
away from him. I backed up just one step.
I
always kept weapons on me, even in the skimpiest of outfits, which is what I was
wearing now. I dug and drug my boot heel into the hard concrete sidewalk until
I heard it click and the knife engraved with my Hunter symbol popped out of the
heel.
Each
Hunter had a different symbol. Mine’s a pentagram lined in red with wings
coming out of the sides. The pentagram, entwined with ivy. Every Hunter’s
symbol has an element of spirit, blood and earth. The engravings were to track
our kills and to protect us. Even Hunters answered to higher ups.
There
were rogues, of course, but I was not one of them. They wouldn’t let me in
their club. If they had, my life would be a lot different.
“Walk
away and I’ll let you live.” For now. The pretenses he had been holding up were
gone and coldness had seeped into every one of his pores.
“This
isn’t about me. He wants to see you.” Dear God. I prayed to whatever higher,
lower and middle power there was that he wasn’t talking about who I thought he
was.
I
hadn’t seen him in 6 months, 6 days and, as I looked at my watch, 6 hours. Oh,
ha, fucking, ha. He would time it exactly that way. Payback really was a bitch.
“What’s
my likelihood of getting you to just walk away? I’ll let you live, seriously.” Because
the Demon had probably figured out by now that my first offer had been an empty
one. “I’ll even give you a box of chocolate.” I was down to giving anything. Almost.
“You
know he’ll kill me or send me back to the pit if I don’t deliver. I’ll take my
chances with you over him. He said bring you. I’m bringing you. I was going to
fuck you first, but you won’t go for that now, will you?”
There
was actually hope in his voice. First of all, my Demon would’ve killed this one
if he tried to fuck me first. I knew it was an empty question. He took a few
menacing steps toward me. While I knew some of his threats were empty I knew
not all of them were, one way or another he was going to take me.
He
must’ve sensed that my little knife didn’t stand a chance against him. I could
take out a lower level Demon with it, maybe, but not this one. He was too
strong. If only I had my weapon bag.
Right
now I would rather die than see the disdainful look on the face of the only man
I’d ever loved. He had to hate me. I could face down a slew of Demons, Vamps,
Fey, Drovers, even my Father – but not him. I could look into anyone’s eyes but
his.
Please,
please, please, let this work.
I
slowly slipped off my boots one at a time. I did this strategically, hoping to
distract the Demon. He looked confused and stopped walking toward me. I tried
making a sexy face and the look of unease melted away from his face.
I
did this for three reasons: 1) The boots I was wearing were knee-high boots, high
heeled, and I needed them off so I could get my feet under me to run. 2) I knew
Demons were inherently lustful creatures. I also knew I wasn’t hard on the
eyes. I was taller than most women, standing at 5’10” with raven black hair,
light blue eyes with curves and legs that, I was told on good authority,
wouldn’t quit. And I used that to my advantage in certain situations. Much like
the one I was in now. And 3.) I knew to play on his hope of getting laid.
As
I slid my hands up my thigh under the skirt of my short dress, I heard his
intake of breath. The look on his face proved I had reeled him in – time for
the kill. I slipped my underwear off and threw them at his face. They landed
directly over his eyes, right on target. Damn I was good. Time to go.
I
turned and ran for my life, for my sanity. I was so fucked up in the head right
now, if I saw my Demon again, I knew I would lose it. I would lose all the numbness
I had shoved over the pain that was left after I walked out on us. After I
turned my back on us because I had to. I was not given a choice, not really. I
was an imposter amongst honest knights with the Hunters.
The
Hunters viewed themselves as avenging Angels and maybe some Hunters were. But
not me. I was your normal, amazingly skilled, fucked-up Hunter. Good at what I
did, but not an Angel by any means. I was given my choices by one of the
Hunter’s council members six months ago. He also happened to be one of my best
friends.
“Either
you walk away from us, from your family, your friends – everything you know and
love. Or you walk away from him
.
”
Caden
hadn’t been completely accurate on the
everything you know and love
part
– I loved my Demon above almost all else.
Cade,
as we called him, had been my best friend since childhood, and I loved him in a
brotherly way. We had grown up together, along with Aniese. Anie, for short,
was an orphan who had been raised by my Father and the Hunter organization,
like all of us. We were all raised partly by our parents, partly by the Hunters
and partly by experience. Cade, Anie and I were known as the three amigos. I
used to jokingly do
The Three Amigo’s
salute, but no one found it as
funny as I did. I once got both Anie and Cade to do it with me, but it’s
because they lost a bet.
