Kissed by Fire

Book Two of the Sunwalker Saga

By Shéa MacLeod

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2011 by Shéa MacLeod/Pamela
Meliza

Published 2011 by Sunwalker Press, London,
UK

The right of Shéa MacLeod/Pamela Meliza to be
identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in
accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may
be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior
written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. All characters in
this book are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons
either living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art: Amanda Kelsey

Cover Model: Anaïs Gryspeirt

Makeup Artist: Magdalena Stankowska

Edited by: Lauren Dee

Formatted by: LK Campbell

Thanks as ever to my fabulous critique
partners Lois and Tamra, and to my beta reader, Bonnie. The ass
kicking were worth it, don’t you think?

And thanks to my dad who said, “Why can’t
dragons have a conclave at midnight on Hadrian’s Wall?” Why not,
indeed.

Please visit Shéa MacLeod at
http://sheamacleod.wordpress.com/

For Elizabeth

On her birthday.

I remember the first time I saw a demon. Who
would forget that, right? It’s actually easier to forget than you
might think.

I was crouched behind a dumpster outside of
my office as it, the demon, laughed like a maniac while the place
burned to the ground. It was pretty much exactly as one might
imagine a demon to be: spiky horns, leathery skin, smoke billowing
out of its nostrils.

My boss at the time, the Dragon Lady (Not her
real name, of course, but protecting the not-so-innocent and all
that), didn’t see it. Too busy cussing out the firemen who also
didn’t see it.

Of course, that was all before I was attacked
by a vampire, died, then came back to life with super powers, so I
sort of blew the whole thing off. Hello? Would you want to admit,
even to yourself, that you’d just watched a seven foot tall demon
that looked something like a giant fire-breathing horny toad burn
your office down?

I think not. Talk about a one way ticket to
the Funny Farm.

The thing about demons was that most people
couldn’t see them. Not because they were invisible or anything, but
because people didn’t
want
to see them. Seeing them would
mean admitting the monsters were real.

Granted, there were plenty of demons out
there that people could see just fine. That was because they looked
exactly like you and me. Only one tiny difference: they had no
souls. They looked human, but underneath there was nothing human at
all. Most of the world’s most infamous serial killers were actually
demons. Word was, Jack the Ripper was a demon. Which was probably
why there was a very specific sub-type of demon named after
him.

That was the type of demon I was hunting
tonight, a Ripper demon. Which kind of sucked. Easy to track a
giant red guy with horns and a forked tail, not so easy to track a
guy who looked just like every other guy. Until he started
killing.

This particular demon had the bad habit of
seducing women and then eating them for lunch. Not all of them.
Just the juicy bits. He’d left a trail of disembowelled corpses
across most of Canada. The Canadian authorities were not pleased,
but there wasn’t a whole lot they could do about it. He was on my
turf, now.

I’d just entered an alleyway down in one of
the dingier areas of Portland when my leg started vibrating. I
snaked my phone out of my pocket.

“What?” I hissed. I had no idea how good the
demon’s hearing was. I wasn’t about to tip him off because somebody
wanted to chat.

“How’s the hunt going?” Inigo Jones, my best
friend’s cousin and the bane of my existence. OK, not really, but I
had been avoiding him due to libido issues. That and some weird
hinky stuff that had been going down between us. I didn’t like
stuff I couldn’t explain. And, yes, I knew how ridiculous that
sounded coming from a badass monster hunter like me.

“It’s going fine.” I would have snarled but
that would have made too much noise. I edged my way along the wall
of the building where Kabita’s government contacts had told her the
demon was nesting. Unlike vampires, many types of demons liked
sunlight and this one had gone straight to the top. I was planning
to hit the fire escape if Inigo would get off the phone and let me
do my job. “What do you want, Inigo?”

“Touchy, touchy,” he laughed.

I hated it when he laughed. It did things to
me. Things that made my insides feel like butterflies were having a
disco.

“I’m kind of busy here.”

“I just thought you might want a little
help,” he said.

Help? From Inigo? In the middle of the day?
My eyes narrowed. “It’s broad daylight. Why are you even out of
bed?” My fingers touched cold steel. The fire escape was all the
way down. Somebody up there had me on her nice list.

“Couldn’t sleep. Besides, this demon hunting
thing is usually Kabita’s gig, not yours; thought you might want
some help.” His voice wasn’t particularly deep, but it had this
slightly edgy quality which reminded me of rock anthems and
tiramisu with lots of rum. Shivers danced up and down my spine and
into lower places which I firmly ignored.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got it covered.”
I turned off the phone and shoved it in my pocket.

He was right, of course. Kabita was the demon
girl. I was more into vamps. And Sunwalkers. But that was a whole
lot of weird I didn’t want to think about. Hunting demons was a
good way to take your mind off things. Things like super sexy
Sunwalkers who used to be Templar Knights. Like Jackson Keel, the
other bane of my existence.

I shoved the thought of Jack aside and pulled
myself up onto the first rung of the fire escape. No mean feat
since it was one of those old metal ladder things bolted to the
side of the building. Technically, the first rung was supposed to
be a good eight or ten feet off the ground, but someone had
obviously screwed up the specs since this one was only about five
feet up. That meant I could reach it, but barely. It took some
doing, but I got there.

I worked my way up, my rubber soled boots
silent on the metal rungs. I made sure nothing metallic scraped
against the ladder. The last thing I needed to do was alert the
demon that he was about to become puppy chow.

I carefully poked my head up over the wall
and scanned the roof. No demon, but there was a small square
structure next to the door leading from the roof. It looked like
some kind of storage shed. Bingo.

I hauled myself up over the lip of the wall
and onto the roof itself. I actually managed not to sprawl face
first. Points to me.

A gentle wind teased strands of silky red
hair across my face and the sun stabbed hot rays into my eyes. I
squinted against the glare wishing I’d remembered to bring my
sunglasses. I was always forgetting those things.

I tested the doorknob on the shack door. It
turned. Obviously the demon thought he was safe enough on the top
of a twenty story building.

I pulled a machete from its sheath across my
back. I’d replaced my favored sword for the more demon un-friendly
machete. It might not be pretty, but it got the job done. Sometimes
you forget about being pretty and just go with what works.

The door opened easily. Not a single squeak
from the well-oiled hinges. He might leave a royal mess behind him,
but this demon knew how to keep house. Then the smell hit me.

“Holy crap. What the heck is that?” I tried
holding my breath, but the smell was everywhere, the cloying stench
of rotting flesh and punctured bowels. I tried to breathe through
my mouth to avoid the worst of the smell.

Yep, I’d found the Ripper’s nest all right.
There were human rib cages decorating the walls and the floor was
smeared with dried blood. Leg bones dangled from the ceiling like
macabre Christmas ornaments and skulls lined shelves, bits of flesh
still clinging in places. “Nasty.”

I’d like to be able to say I was sick to my
stomach or grossed out or something because that would make me
sound normal, but after three years hunting vampires and other
monsters my life was anything but normal. I’d seen just as bad and
smelled worse.

It was the rattle of a pebble against the
roof that alerted me. I didn’t turn. I hit the floor. Then I
turned. Good thing or my head would have been added to the decor as
what looked like the building’s fire axe smacked into the doorjamb
where my head had been a moment before.

He looked human, all right. Probably would
have been considered handsome, too, if not for the blood soaking
his clothes and the other bits of goo on his shoes. That and the
fact that his jaw had unhinged like a snake’s, revealing rows of
razor sharp teeth. So not attractive.

I rolled to the side, jumping to my feet as
he ripped the axe out of the doorjamb. He hissed at me, long
threads of pink saliva dripping from his teeth.

The pink was blood. He’d eaten recently.
Hopefully, it would slow him down.

He rushed me, axe in one hand, massive claws
sprouting from the other. Shit, just what I needed. I darted to the
side to avoid both axe and claws, at the same time slashing him
across the back with my machete.

Black blood seeped from the shallow cut. His
skin was thicker than I’d thought. His hiss told me I’d pissed him
off more than anything.

We danced around the roof, hacking and
chopping at each other. I could barely keep up and I was
tiring.

Then he caught me right in the stomach.
Fortunately it was backhanded so he didn’t pierce skin, but I went
flying across the rooftop, smashed into the brick wall and slid
down into a heap. I hadn’t felt pain like that since that night
three years ago. The night I died.

I struggled to get to my feet, but my body
refused to cooperate. “Gods dammit,” I hissed, clutching my right
side. I’d bet anything I’d cracked a rib or two.

Then the Ripper demon was standing over me,
axe raised above his head. This was it. I was going to die right
here on top of this building, my bones decoration for a demon’s
lair. Brilliant.

I closed my eyes and willed myself to find
one last drop of strength. Instead, I found the Darkness.

It roared up from somewhere inside me,
rolling in waves through my entire body. It was broad daylight. No
darkness to channel, but I could feel the burst of energy as Morgan
Bailey ceased to exist and became simply a vessel for the
Darkness.

It screamed, and the demon’s eyes widened,
suddenly realizing I wasn’t alone in my skin. There was Something
in there with me.

That hesitation was enough. With the Darkness
riding me, I rolled away just as he brought the axe down, burying
it in the roof.

Before he could yank the axe free, I jumped
to a crouch and slashed up and out with my machete. It caught him
in the midriff. Talk about spilling your guts.

Black blood poured out of the wound to join
the human blood on his T-shirt. He screamed, but it was a gurgling
sound which meant I’d hit a lung. More points to me.

I rolled to the side and with a quick hack of
the blade took out his Achilles. The minute he collapsed onto the
rooftop, I shoved my machete straight through his heart, burying it
up to the hilt. Then I hit him full-blast with an aerosol can full
of holy water.

Good thing we were twenty stories up because
I was pretty sure his shrieking would deafen the most hardy of
souls. It was not a pretty sound and it sent chills down my
spine.