Vivi Anna - Seducing the Hunter

Quinn had always been a crusader. It was one of the things she’d loved about him. And that had also been the thing that had killed their relationship in the end. His single-minded sense of justice.

He could never see the shades of gray in between those morals of his.

Gray had always been her favorite color.

“I called you, Daeva, thinking there was some sort of good person inside you. A person who would do the right thing.”

She laughed again. “The right thing? Huh. And what exactly is that, Quinn?”

He stared at her and she stared back. It was the showdown they’d never had when she’d possessed the body of the woman he’d fallen in love with. The woman she’d been, mind, body and soul for ten years. Seven years before she’d even met Quinn and fallen for him.

At first when she’d confessed her secret about being a demon, he hadn’t truly believed her. He’d thought she was pulling a really bad prank on him. He’d asked her a lot of questions to prove it. Daeva had told him things only a demon would know, and she’d also told him about burying the Chest of Sorrows over a hundred years ago. It was then that he had truly believed. And it was as if a switch had been flicked on. He’d gone into demon hunter mode.

He’d bound her to a chair, drawn a pentagram around her, sprayed her with holy water and sent her screaming back to hell. How he’d dealt with Rachel’s comatose body, she could only imagine. Maybe the real woman had woken up.

Daeva had never gotten a chance to say goodbye to anything that had mattered to her. The friends she’d made, family members who had loved her like their own, coworkers she’d grown accustomed to. She hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye to the life she’d made. She hadn’t been able to say goodbye to Quinn the way she wanted to.

When he had her tied in that chair, he’d acted as if they hadn’t spent three wonderful years together. That they hadn’t just spent the entire day before in bed, making love and talking about their future. He’d pretended that he hadn’t just told her that he loved her more than anything in the world. She remembered the tears, though, and the way he’d looked at her through them.

He dropped his gaze. “Are you going to tell me or not?”

She tapped a finger against her lips. “Hmm, since you asked so nicely, I think not.”

“I guess I was kidding myself, thinking a demon would even consider doing the right thing.”

“Yeah, maybe you were. You seem to do that a lot.”

He glared at her, then went to the wall, grabbed a folding chair and dragged it out to the middle of the room, in front of the pentagram. He unfolded it and sat. “I can sit here all night.”

She smirked at him, then settled onto the hard cement floor, crossing her legs. “So can I.”

For the next hour, they sat and stared at each other. Daeva broke her gaze once in a while to examine her nails. It seemed to piss Quinn off and that’s why she did it. She really didn’t think that her nails were more important than the situation. She just liked to revel in the way the vein at his right temple would throb.

“What happened to your arm?” she asked.

“What do you care?”

“I don’t. I’m just being polite.”

He held his forearm up and looked at it. “Courtesy of your little goblin friend.”

“Loir did that to you?”

He nodded.

“Well, then, you must’ve deserved it. I’m surprised that she didn’t kill you. She’s usually very bloodthirsty.” Daeva spoke with her tongue in cheek, because Loir was anything but. She was one of the kindest creatures Daeva knew. Unless, of course, she was forced to do something. Then she could be lethal.

“I’m surprised she didn’t, as well. She said you would hate it if she killed me.”

Daeva examined her nails again. “Hmm, she must have been mistaken. I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have alluded to such a thing.”

She had though. In her note. She’d simply written, “Don’t kill him.”

Another half hour went by. He was as stubborn as she remembered him to be. Maybe more so. She didn’t remember the stern wrinkles in his brow, the way it was now. That was new. But she had a feeling it had something to do with her. She’d put those lines of pain there.

She sighed. “Are we seriously going to sit here all night?”

“Until you help me, yes.”

“I never said I wouldn’t help you, Quinn, I just can’t tell you where the chest is.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

She shrugged. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

“Well, that’s the only help I need. The location. So if you won’t give it to me, then there’s nothing to talk about.”

She stood and brushed the dirt off her black pants. “Fine. Send me back, then. I have laundry to do.”

He looked at her, and she could see the hesitation on his face. He obviously hadn’t expected her to call his bluff. He should’ve known she would. She possessed all the same personality traits she had when she’d been wearing a human birthday suit. She was basically the same, except for a few physical changes.

Sighing, he shook his head. “What’s it going to take?”

“I’ll help you find the chest, but I want something in return.”

“Of course you do,” he sneered.

“Play nice or you can forget it. And when the Cabal opens the chest and uses the book, and your world goes to shit, don’t complain to me about it.” She pointed a finger at him. “Besides, you know as well as I do that it’s the nature of my...condition to make a bargain.”

“What are your terms?”

“I guide you to where the chest is, you get it, and in return I get to stay topside in a new body forever.”

Quinn stood, his chair overturning from the suddenness of his movement. The banging of metal on cement echoed through the basement. “Absolutely not.”

“Then send me back, because those are my terms and I won’t change them.”

He shook his head. “Nope. That’s too easy.” He turned toward the stairs. “We’ll see how cooperative you are after a few more hours in that pentagram.” He mounted the stairs.

She watched him leave. When he was at the top of the stairs he flicked off the light. The room plunged into darkness. Not a big deal for Daeva, though—she could see in the dark. But it was starting to get drafty. Right now she was almost missing the hot stifling air in hell.

“You’re a jerk, Quinn Strom.”

He slammed the door shut on her words.

Chapter 6

Quinn tried to keep himself busy. Tried to keep his mind occupied. But it was difficult with a demon in his basement. Especially one that smelled like cinnamon and looked like sex on a stick.

She’d been right, her appearance did startle him. When he’d known her, she’d been a lithe blond with an athletic build and a pert little nose. Her name had been Rachel. The demon who had popped into the pentagram was a curvy redhead with stormy gray eyes. She looked very different from the woman he’d loved, but something about her was still the same. The fluid way she moved, the tilt of her head as she regarded him. If he had passed her on the street, he suspected he would’ve recognized her.

The thought was completely unnerving. He didn’t want to recognize the woman from three years ago in the demon he’d just called. He wanted them to be two distinct entities, but deep down he knew that they weren’t. They were like two sides of one complicated coin. He supposed Daeva had always been a part of Rachel, however much he wanted to deny it.

By the third hour, after straightening up everything the goblin had ruined, Quinn ended up in the kitchen to make dinner. He flung open the refrigerator and started pulling out various ingredients. He grabbed a pot and a pan, and tossed in this and that, frying and boiling, anything to occupy his thoughts. In the end, he had made spaghetti Bolognese. It had been one of Rachel’s favorite meals. And he’d made enough for two.