Vivi Anna - Releasing the Hunter

Each step grew heavier and heavier as she drew closer to the tree. She knew what was hanging there and it formed a lump in her throat.

When she was right under the branch, she reached up and touched the thing hanging there. It was her cross necklace. It was the key.

She pulled it down, and gripping it tight in her hand, she twirled around the yard. He was here somewhere. She knew he’d watch her retrieve it. She knew he’d been at the window watching her. She could always feel when his gaze was on her. It made gooseflesh rise on her skin.

“Ronan,” she called.

A dog barked. Wind chimes tinkled somewhere nearby. But there wasn’t any answer.

She returned to the porch, and instead of going back inside, she stood there and waited and watched. Maybe if she stood there long enough she would see him flit through the shadows. Maybe he would come to her, himself.

“Ronan,” she called again. “I know you’re there.”

Still no answer. Just the rustling of the leaves in the tree.

But after an hour of standing there, her legs cramped and her stomach grumbled reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in over eight hours. She went back inside, the key still clutched tight in her hand.

Ronan watched her go back into the house from his perch on the roof of the neighbor’s place. He’d been tempted to go down and talk to her. She’d been waiting for him to, that was obvious. But he hadn’t been ready, and neither had she. The anger of his betrayal would’ve still been fresh in her mind. She would’ve acted on it, he knew. And he really wasn’t up to fighting with her. He was still sore from his encounter with Reggie and his cabal goons.

She was safe; that was all that mattered right now. Reggie had been lying about sending someone to take care of her. He should’ve suspected as much, but he had to be sure. The thought of something happening to Ivy, especially because of him, made his gut clench and his heart ache. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

He also needed to give her time. Time to think, time to heal, time to forgive. He needed that time, too. To reconcile the fact that he’d never be fully human again. That he would always be a cambion, always have demon blood flowing inside him.

He had to see himself as Ivy had seen him.

As a man.

Until then, he wouldn’t be good for her. And he really wanted to be good enough for her. She deserved that. She deserved the best he could be.

Once the door was shut and he heard the lock engage, he jumped down from the roof, walked down the street to his car and got in. He couldn’t go back to his apartment. The cabal would be all over it. So this was his chance to make a clean break from everything he used to be. And become someone different. Someone better. Someone worth Ivy’s love.

But first he had to stop the cabal from doing anyone else any harm.

Ronan tossed the chalk to the side after drawing the sigil in the pentagram. He picked up his knife and drew the blade across his palm. Blood dripped onto the chalked hardwood floor of his newly rented apartment, activating the “call.” It wouldn’t be long before Daeva appeared. She was always prompt when he called her.

A minute passed before there was an audible pop and the scent of cinnamon filled the air.

“Hmm, twice in one week. That is some kind of record.” Her grin was warm and friendly.

He didn’t return the smile; this was all business. “I need another address.”

“Well, I know it isn’t for Sallos, because I saw his sorry ass down here. You really pissed him off.”

“I need to know the headquarters for the Crimson Hall Cabal.”

Daeva tapped one long finger against her lips. “I see. That’s quite the task you’re asking of me.”

“Why?”

“The cabal is powerful. They have a lot of magic able to block out any unwanted attention.”

“I believe in you, Daeva. I wouldn’t have called you if I didn’t think you were the woman for the job.”

She preened at his use of the word woman, instead of calling her a demon. He understood wanting that distinction. He lived it every day, as she did.

“Of course I am.” She tapped at her lips again. “Give me some time.”

“I need it sooner than later.”

“It’ll cost you.”

Ronan looked at her, knowing full well that he’d pay whatever she asked for. He had to stop the cabal at any price. Reggie wouldn’t quit until Ronan was dead, as well as anyone involved with the key. And that included Ivy and Quinn. Ronan would sacrifice his own life before he ever saw anything terrible happen to them.

“I know.”

Daeva studied him for a moment, and then lifted one elegant eyebrow. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

He dropped his gaze, uncomfortable with the way she saw right through him. “Does it matter?”

“Oh, Ronan, of course it does.” She tsked, then snapped her fingers and disappeared.

Ronan walked down the corridor to the bathroom and stuck his hand under a stream of cold water. He kept it there until the blood oozing from the open wound gelled. He dried it carefully and then wrapped it up in gauze, taping it tight.

He didn’t know how long he’d have to wait for Daeva to come back, but he sensed it wouldn’t be too long. She was reliable and something in her eyes told him that she understood his feelings for Ivy. That somewhere and sometime she’d possessed those same feelings for someone.

True to his assumption, Ronan didn’t wait long for Daeva’s return. After two hours, she popped back into his living room with the information he needed.

She handed him a small piece of paper. He took it and said, “Thank you.” He unfolded it, read the address, and then slipped it into his front jeans’ pocket.

“That’s why you called me.”

“Name your price, and I’ll pay it.”

Daeva eyed him for a long while. So long he began to feel uncomfortable and shifted from foot to foot. Those gray eyes of hers were strange and unnerving. Finally she said, “All I ask is that you take care of her.”

That surprised him. “What?”

“Look after Ivy Strom and love her like she deserves.”

He still didn’t get it. “That’s all you want?”

She nodded.

“Why? What’s Ivy to you?”

“Nothing. It’s what she means to you.” Then her eyes sparkled and a sly grin spread across her comely face. “Oh, and send a message to that brother of hers.”

“What message?”

“That I’m waiting.” Her eyes bled black, and then she was gone, in a puff of dark smoke.

Ronan didn’t have time to dwell on that last bit about Quinn. He’d deliver the message sometime and let Quinn worry about it. Right now, he had to prepare to take down the Crimson Hall Cabal or at the very least, kill Reggie.

As soon as the sun set, Ronan set out on his way. The address Daeva gave him turned out to be smack in the middle of Pacific Heights. Not far from Lafayette Park, Ronan stood on Gough Street and stared up at the huge Victorian mansion looming in front of him.

He shouldn’t have expected anything less from the cabal. They were entrenched in money. Reggie alone was probably worth at least several million. Ronan imagined most of the cabal members came from wealth. Bunch of sorcerer snobs.

By looking at the big house, he also knew there were likely wards on every entrance. Luckily, Daeva also gave him the one window to go through that was lacking any security. He looked down at the paper she’d given him again. Second story, third window from the right. Smiling, he slid the paper back into his pants pocket and crossed the street.

Getting up to the second floor proved far easier than he thought it would be. Ronan slid open the unlocked windowpane and climbed into the dark room that just happened to be a bedroom. Reggie’s bedroom, to be exact. And the sorcerer was sound asleep under the covers, like a gift-wrapped present.