Heart of a Hunter

Excerpt

Praise for Tamela Miles

Heart of a Hunter

Copyright

Dedications

Story

Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

Elle’s eyes teared up as she hugged Brandon to her fiercely.

They sat in the front seats of his black Charger at the park in his expensive part of the city. Christmas lights were blinking with shades of white, red, and green on almost every house that lined the block. She leaned back to look at his face and could barely read his pained expression in the almost darkness.

He stroked her cheek with his fingers. “Then come back east with me. You have a good GPA and could probably get into a less expensive but still good university. We’ll get our own place together—take classes during the day and work at night. We’ll have a good life, Elle.”

She shook her head sadly, brushing away tears. It was hard to tell him no, but her life as a demon hunter prevented her from leaving Tagas and her training. She knew that when that was done, she would leave her parents behind—leave everyone behind—and hit the open road to fulfill the purpose she had been called for. “Just don’t forget me when you get there.” Her voice was a hushed whisper in the dark.

Praise for Tamela Miles

“LOVING it!! [This story] moves along at a brisk pace, engages the reader, sets the paranormal elements right away, and the heroine is someone the reader feels empathy for, young and disadvantaged in her home life.”

~Lelani Black, author of All Hands Below

Heart of a Hunter

by

Tamela Miles

Hell on Heels Series

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Heart of a Hunter

COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Tamela Dawn Miles

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

Contact Information: [email protected]

Cover Art by
Debbie Taylor

The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

PO Box 708

Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

Publishing History

First Black Rose Edition, 2016

Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0684-1

Hell on Heels Series

Published in the United States of America

Dedications

For Mom and Dad,

who told me that not even the sky is the limit,

if you work hard enough.

~*~

For my sisters, brothers,

and countless other family members

for paving the way to success and illuminating my path. ~*~

For my friends and mentors,

who have encouraged me

to grow in ways I never imagined

and for reading all of my 2 a.m. emails.

~*~

I love you all.

Thank you.

The bar stool went flying from Elle’s hands, and she smiled in satisfaction as it smashed against the young, hefty biker’s left shoulder and he went down, desperately clutching at the table top to break his fall. She was at his side in a quick moment, looking down at him. She put one booted foot firmly on his chest.

“You slapped me. No one slaps me without taking an ass kicking, no matter how big and tough. Dude, all I told you was a simple ‘no thanks’ to your offer to screw.” Elle kicked the fallen biker’s left side sharply. “And you kept spilling your beer on me, you sloppy-drunk dick.”

Elle turned to leave the place, ignoring the cheers, whistles, and cat calls on her way out the front door. She had stayed beneath the radar in the place, and the last thing she wanted was to catch the attention of the management. Outside, the warm evening breeze kicked up, moving her hair and cooling her face. She looked up at the red neon sign that read, “Lucille’s Family Fun Bowling Center,” and grimaced. The name would suggest some level of courteous behavior from the patrons, but in her year of visiting the place on her own, she had met more than a few guys far from even remotely polite, in spite of the family environment. The place also served beer to the adult customers, which, unfortunately, also attracted some of the local bikers.

She looked down at her scuffed boots for a moment, debating if she should go back to the war zone she called home. The neighborhood in the dark part of L.A she lived in was far from decent, but inside her home was even worse, sometimes. Her mom and dad, both heavy drinkers who were most of the time drunk and distant, usually didn’t even try to keep her in check or keep tabs on her comings and goings. She often wasn’t sure to be thankful for that or angry at their crap ass parenting. Elle Connor was seventeen years old and had mostly relied on herself for the past two years.

Wiping her sweaty hands on her blue jeans, she began walking the short distance home, looking over her shoulder occasionally just in case the injured biker wanted to give her a little payback for wiping the floor with him. The late summer sun was setting low in the west, casting shadows as she walked, keeping to the main streets. Nothing good ever happened on the side streets and alleys in this part of Los Angeles, and she had wisely learned to avoid them.
Best to call it a night early
, she thought, striding quickly as the night approached. Summer break was almost over, and she would be going back to the local high school for her senior year in a few weeks. She didn’t want to hear the speech from her mom about how a high school diploma and a college education would free her, and maybe all of them, from the hellish place they lived. She didn’t want to hear her mom pretending to really care about her welfare.

****

He stood in the shadows of the alley, intently focused on the petite teen girl dressed casually in blue jeans and a tiny, tight, black T-shirt quickly making her way down the street. Her halo of long, dark curls whipped around her face in the breeze of the evening as she looked over her shoulder every few moments
. Beautiful
, he coolly acknowledged, taking in the whole package of her with the vibrant light brown skin.
Beautiful but deadly, and definitely a problem if I don’t stop her. Better to put an end to her tonight.

He moved from his place in the alley and stealthily followed her down the block. There was no chance of him losing her because his tracking abilities were unrivaled by any other demon and certainly by any human who ever lived. Pyro was supremely confident that in slaughtering this problem and destroying Heaven’s plans for her, he would be surely securing a greater place in Hell’s hierarchy. That was all that mattered.

Pyro caught up to her easily, making himself visible as he wrapped a strong arm around her throat from behind and lifting her up several inches from the ground. He wanted her to see him as she took her last breath, wanted her frightened out of her mind. He laughed harshly in her ear as she struggled, pulling at his large hand as it closed tighter and tighter around her throat. He suddenly let her go, grabbing her arm and swinging her around so he could savor the terror on her face.

“Elle Connor, at last.” He let out a guttural laugh. “You’re strong but not nearly strong enough to take me down. You’re a little nothing. You’re welcome to fight for your life as I take it. In fact, I would enjoy that.”

She kneed him in the gut as he reached for her and let out a surprised yelp when he made a counter move that put her flat on her back on the street pavement, looking up at him in visceral fear. He pinned her shoulders to the ground with both hands, restricting her movement. He was taken back when he saw the anger, as well as the fear, on her face. “Who the hell are you? What do you want from me?” Her tone was clipped, and she sounded far from intimidated.

A flash of hot rage ripped through him. The bitch wasn’t even terrified. He was deeply insulted and also felt a pang of unease. Perhaps this wouldn’t be as easy as he had imagined it would be. He dismissed the unease, letting his handsome human face ripple a bit to flash the demon beneath. He raised one hand as it began to glow a deep crimson. Her eyes widened, and she screamed from deep in her belly, trying to buck him off. He smirked, now satisfied with her reaction. He put his hand close to her face, letting her feel the extreme heat.

****

My God, I’m going to die! He’s going to melt my face, and I’m going to die. How is this really happening?
That was Elle’s last coherent thought as the monster who only looked human lowered his glowing hand to cover her face. She snapped her eyes closed, bracing for the excruciating pain to come. She heard pained gurgling and cracked one eye open. A giant of a man, with graying hair and dressed all in black, tightly squeezed the monster’s throat from behind. The monster released his one-handed grip on her and grabbed at the strong hand closing his throat. His crimson fire hand burned her savior, smoke rising, but he didn’t flinch or loosen his hold.

“Let me know when you have endured all you can, Pyro. If there’s more fight in you, I can easily continue to do this for quite a while longer.” Her savior’s voice was gravelly and very welcome to Elle at the moment. She didn’t know for sure if he was really her savior or if he planned to kill her along with the monster, but if this was something to settle between the two of them, maybe she could just get up and walk away from the incredibly surreal situation without third degree burns.

The one named Pyro raised his hands in submission, struggling to stand as the other man slowly released his hold. Elle scrambled to stand and her savior easily caught hold of her arm, effortlessly lifting her to her feet. She met his eyes with tears in her own and was surprised to see the kindness in his eyes.

“Young Elle, always a magnet for trouble and forever a pain in my side.” He nodded at her, a faint smile on his lips.

Elle blinked in surprise. Her voice was hoarse. “How…how do you know me? Thank you for saving me, but I have no clue who in the hell you are.” She glanced quickly at Pyro who was doubled over, snarling and sucking in huge gulps of air. “Or who…or what the hell he is.” She focused her attention on her savior, taking in his heavy black clothing, head of graying dark hair, and smooth, expressionless face. He turned to Pyro with an angry glare.

“You had to know this attempt to destroy her would be a failure, Pyro. I am everywhere, I see all where she is concerned.”

Pyro straightened himself, still snarling. “Fuck you, Tagas. You won’t always be this vigilant protecting her, and I’ll be there when you slip to handle you and her. Hell wants her rotting in the ground, and that’s the way it will be. You should have never involved yourself on the day she was born.”

Elle shivered in fear at hearing that, inching behind Tagas for protection.
What in the hell is he talking about?
He shrugged, seemingly unconcerned, but she was very concerned. She grabbed Tagas’ shoulder from behind. “What does he mean? Who—what is he and what does Hell have to do with me?”

Tagas turned to her. “Pyro is a demon wretch from one of the hottest parts of Hell. His job is to thwart everything I do to protect you, young Elle.” His lips lifted in a small smile. “He’s here to kill you.” He turned his attention back to the demon.

Elle blinked a few times, her mind swirling in confusion. “Why? What have I done?”

Pyro’s face rippled beneath the human flesh covering it as he narrowed his eyes. “Because your very existence is a nuisance to me.” Tagas pulled a large dagger from his side sheath, and Pyro took a few steps back. Elle’s gaze darted back and forth between the two of them, her heart racing.

Pyro’s eyes lit up with bright flames. “There will be another time and when it comes, I’ll make her very sorry for being what she is as I end her life. You can’t stop me. Remember this, Tagas.” In the next moment, Pyro was simply gone with only a light, hot breeze to show he had even been there.

Elle’s eyes teared up again, hitching little sobs coming from her throat. Tagas suddenly pulled her into a fierce embrace. “I…don’t know what’s happening here, and I’m scared.” She let him hold her tightly as she cried, taking comfort. “What mistake could I have made for Hell to come after me?”