Larissa Ione - Eternal Rider

“Fuck,” Garcia wheezed. “Get her!”

Arms closed around her, and Carrot spun her back to the man she’d elbowed, who wasn’t nearly as gentle in his handling this time.

Another flash of light flooded the room, and the nightmare got a whole lot worse.

Standing where the guy who disappeared with Hal had been was a huge man in leather armor, his ebony eyes hard, his expression uncompromising. In his hand was a sword as long as she was tall. As terrifying as the three demon slayers were, this stranger left them in the dust. She actually shrank back against the man who held her, as if he could—or would—help her.

The big guy in armor seemed to assess the situation in less time than it took for her heart to beat. He moved like a viper, lashing out with his massive arm and knocking Garcia and Carrot across the room. When the man behind her shoved her aside, the leather-armor guy struck with a closed fist, adding her captor’s body to the pile.

Cara didn’t even have time to scream. Or run. Or faint. In a single stride the newcomer was in front of her. She backed away, but was blocked by the exam table. He stalked her, his presence overwhelming, as if he owned the very air, and she had to struggle for every breath.

“You,” he said in an impossibly dark, deep voice, “have some explaining to do.”

Damned Aegis idiots.

Ares generally supported their efforts, had, in the past, fought alongside them in battles against demons. But the demon slayers tended to think that anything they didn’t understand was evil.

He glanced at the three Guardians—no, four. One was dead. The live ones struggled to their feet, pain twisting their expressions and murder gleaming in their eyes. The human female was backed against an exam table, her terror a tangible odor that was mixed with the scent of her blood, of the Guardians’ blood, and… of hellhound.

But there was no sign of Sestiel, the fallen angel Ares had tracked to this very room, and now, suddenly, Ares couldn’t sense the angel at all.

He gauged the situation, decided it wasn’t necessary to kill the Aegi, but he did need to know what had gone on here. It was critical that he find Sestiel before Reseph did, but the fact that the fallen angel might be in possession of a motherfucking hellhound was an added complication; the beasts acted like radar-jamming equipment, and as long as Sestiel was near the hound, Ares would be unable to locate him.

Then there was another, worse scenario to consider—that Sestiel wasn’t in possession of a hellhound, but rather that a hellhound was in possession of him . Which meant that Ares needed to glean every crumb of information he could get from the human female, and he’d get his answers one way or another.

Too bad for her. Seizing her arm, he tugged her to him, opened a gate, and stepped through the shimmering veil, unconcerned by the fact that humans came out on the other side of a Harrowgate dead. Nope, one of the cool advantages of a summoned Harrowgate was that humans could travel with the Horsemen. Not that it happened often. Not since their break with The Aegis.

A warm salt breeze hit him as they exited, their feet coming down on rock and ivory sand. A hundred yards away was his Greek manor, a sprawling white structure that sat atop an island in the Aegean Sea. The island was unmapped—invisible to human eyes and technology—and Ares had lived here for three thousand years, since the day he’d wrested it from the demon who’d built it. It was a great place, especially since he’d brought it up to modern standards and comforts.

But they weren’t going inside.

He spun the woman around so her back was to the sea, her bare feet close to the cliff edge. “Who are you?” He gripped her shoulders firmly, his fingers digging into the blue flannel pajama top dotted with penguins. She wore penguin pajamas.

“P-please…” The wind whipped her sandy-blonde hair into her face, and some weird impulse made him want to brush it away.

He resisted. “ Who are you?”

“I’m not… not a demon.” Her breath sawed in and out of her so violently that he half-expected her to pass out.

“What is your name?”

She blinked as if she didn’t understand the question, and when he repeated it, she finally murmured, “Cara. It’s Cara. I’m not a demon. I swear, I’m not a demon.”

“You keep saying that.” He inhaled, once again catching the bitter scent of her terror, but also, the faint, smoky tint of hellhound. She’d been in direct contact with one. “Why were you handling a hellhound? Were you attacked?”

A tiny squeak came from her, as if fear had closed up her throat. Hellhounds could do that to a person. But he didn’t have time to coddle a delicate female through her trauma. He needed intel, and he needed it now.

He snapped his fingers in front of her face, startling her out of her freaked-out trance. “Did The Aegis save you?”

“The men? They… they tried to kill the pup.”

Ares couldn’t decide if she was a little… slow… or just scared out of her gourd. Maybe both. Even so, she should be a little more agitated in his presence, and he wondered what was up with that. He took a deep breath and spoke slowly, even though he didn’t have the time or patience for this shit. “Yes, I’m sure they tried to kill it. It’s their job.”

“To kill dogs?”

“ Demon dogs. You know, hellhounds?”

“This isn’t real,” she whispered. “I want to go home…” She shook her head, backpedaling wildly. “No, not home! Those men are there. This isn’t real…”

Shit. He was losing her. Before she could go into a complete meltdown, he gripped her by the shoulders and bent to peer directly into her eyes. Which were the exact color of the sea below when the sun hit it just right. Crystal blue with flecks of green and gold. Stunning.

“Listen to me. I need to know if you saw another man in that room. Long blond hair. Angelic.”

She nodded, her wide-eyed gaze locked onto his as if she were afraid to look away. As if he was a lifeline and if she let go, she’d plunge into an abyss of insanity. “Where is Hal?”

“Hal?”

“The dog.”

She’d named the hellhound? The things were mean as fuck, ravenous, horny… suddenly a sinking suspicion made his gut plummet. Had the hound given her a Hell’s Kiss? Nah. They never, ever did that to humans.

And yet… he leaned in, and as he got closer, the odor of fear and beast gave way to a more feminine scent. She smelled clean, like a spring meadow, with soft floral undertones. His cock jerked, the stupid bastard. The woman was terrified, human, and possibly shackled to one of the most vile creatures to ever have been spawned in Sheoul.

“What are you doing?”

He didn’t reply. He touched his lips to hers. A shocked gasp escaped her, and damn, she tasted sweet. There was a faint mint tang of toothpaste on her breath, and as he stroked his tongue across her satin lips, he got the telltale numbing tingle of the hellhound’s kiss. Which explained why she wasn’t combative with him—by bonding with Cara, the hound had brought her over into the supernatural world. She was still human, but with… enhancements.

He should have retreated, right then and there, but her mouth was soft, her body ripe with curves, and he hadn’t kissed a woman—a real human woman—in thousands of years. Head swimming, he tugged her against him. This was unexpected, amazing—

Sudden, stabbing pain lanced his groin. He grunted out a curse, doubled over, and clutched his balls, which she’d cracked with her knee.

“Bastard!” Cara followed up on that by jamming that killer knee of hers into his nose.