The Darkest Pleasure

Anya stopped abruptly at the end of the alley. Lucien was there, stepping from the shadows. He and Anya shared a kiss, Lucien’s arm automatically winding around her waist as it did every time they were together.

Reyes glanced away from them, the sight of their love too much to witness at the moment. Who are you trying to fool?It’s too much at every moment.

The alley forked into three sections: left, straight and right. Five buildings glared at him in a half moon. He didn’t need to ask which held Danika. Suddenly he could smell her thunderstorm scent. He could feel her fear all the way to the marrow of his bones, as if it pulsed from the redbrick shop in front of him.

A weapons store. How appropriate. And ironic. With all their talk of peace, the Hunters should have picked a church.

“There are private rooms above the public one. She is up there,” Lucien said, his tone grim. “The men have been strangely silent, almost as if they knew I was there, waiting.”

Bile rose in Reyes’s throat. “Is she…still alive?” The words would barely form.

“Yes.”

He gulped. Something about Lucien’s inflection did not settle well inside him. “But?”

“She is still sleeping.”

His fingers clenched around his weapons. “How many Hunters are in the building now?”

“Twelve. Several have already left.”

“Their leader?”

“One of the absent.”

Bastard. Reyes would find him, though. Soon. Once Danika was safe, there would be no stopping his wrath.

“There is a man who appears to be guarding her,” Lucien said. “He has barely left her side. He’s there now, watching her sleep.”

“Has he…did he…touch her?”

“Not in anger.”

Then in what? Lust? “Was she raped?” Reyes’s teeth gnashed together with a dark need to strike.

“I do not know.”

“He is mine.” Despite the false calm in his voice, he left no doubt of his intention. “No one else even approaches him.”

Lucien nodded. “Very well. The time for battle has arrived.”

Ready, Reyes pushed past his friends and stalked to the building. When he entered, a bell tinkled merrily, announcing his presence. The human behind the counter was in the process of smiling—until he spotted Reyes’s harsh countenance. The smile froze midway and hate filled the Hunter’s eyes.

To Reyes’s knowledge, they had never met, but they instantly recognized each other for what they were: enemies.

“Where is she?”

“You killed my son, demon.”

“I’ve never met your son, Hunter.”

“You’re a cancer upon this earth, all of you, and you’re responsible for every death. Not for much longer, though. Long live the Hunters!” As though he’d been expecting Reyes all along, the man lifted a semiautomatic with a silencer.

Reyes lifted his own gun. They fired at the same time. Reyes, to savage. The Hunter, to injure. Killing him would have freed his demon, and the Hunters would do anything to prevent that. The knowledge was as good as a weapon.

A bullet slammed into Reyes’s shoulder, and he laughed at the wonderful sting. The Hunter’s brains splattered onto the wall behind him; the man didn’t laugh. Reyes felt a moment of sorrow, but reminded himself there could be no peace as long as Hunters lived to spread their hate.

One down. Eleven to go.

“Jeez. Try to save some for the rest of us,” Sabin muttered, moving around Reyes, past the counter of guns to a door. He kicked it open, revealing a narrow staircase.

“Good job, Painie.” Anya slapped him upside the head. “Now the others know we’re here.”

With that, she flew up the stairs, right behind Sabin.

Blood dripped from Reyes’s wound as he climbed.

“May I join my dear wife and watch your destruction from above,” a human shouted, but he was silenced as another muted gunshot sounded. There was a scream. A gurgle. A thump as a body hit the floor.

Footsteps. “See you in hell, demons,” another human yelled, but he, too, was soon silenced.

“She’s in the third room on the right,” Lucien said, suddenly beside Reyes.

They reached the top and raced in different directions. Reyes encountered only one other Hunter before he reached Danika’s room. That Hunter shot at him, too, nailing him in the stomach.

Reyes never paused, his adrenaline too high, his demon too happy.

Smiling, he reached the human and sliced his throat. Then he was in front of the bedroom door. He kicked it open, not bothering with the lock. Too time-consuming.

A pop and whiz crackled in his ears as another bullet hit him, this one in the thigh. His limbs trembled as weakness tried to set in, but he managed to remain upright. Blood poured, the demon sang and Reyes scanned the room, taking stock. Danika lay in bed, bound, motionless. A human stood at her side, trembling and pale as he aimed a gun at Reyes.

“I’ve waited for this moment a long time,” that human said hoarsely. “Dreamed of it. Craved it. Now here you are.”

Reyes zeroed in on the man’s tattoo: the mark of infinity, symmetrical, black. “Here I am. Did you touch her?”

“As if you care what’s been done to a human.”

Another shot. Reyes leapt to the side. He would enjoy the pain, but didn’t want to lose any more blood. The next five minutes were too important.

This blast sailed past him, and he raised his own gun. Aimed.

“Whatever you do to me, staying here, watching the woman, was worth it,” the man said as Reyes squeezed the trigger. Another head shot. The Hunter collapsed onto the carpeted floor and didn’t rise.

Reyes was at Danika’s side in the next instant, snapping the bands apart and liberating her wrists and ankles. He gathered her sleeping form in his arms, his blood dripping onto her stained white shirt and too-pale face. Her dark hair was matted to her scalp and temples, her cheeks hollow— how much weight had she lost?—and her eyelashes cast ghostly shadows that blended with the bruises under her eyes before branching into menacing spikes. There was another bruise on her jaw.

“Danika.” Her name was both a prayer and a curse.

She didn’t stir.