stopped and eyed the dancing crowd. She’d know him the second she saw him. After years of hunting demons, she knew the signs to look for. Signs the regular folk mistook for dark and dangerous allure. To Ivy it was just dark and dangerous. Nothing alluring whatsoever.
She saw him. He was dancing with two young blondes. He was tall, with longish blond hair, not handsome or ugly. Average, mostly. Like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. But it was the eyes that gave him away. When he turned ever so slightly to the left or the right, Ivy could see the flames in his soul.
The unholy fire that he carried within from the depths of hell.
She stepped onto the dance floor. She had to separate him from the women. If he spotted her now, he’d have no qualms about killing them right there and then.
Picking up the rhythm, Ivy danced her way through the writhing crowd. She tried not to stare directly but she needed to keep her eye on him. If she lost him now, it would take months to pick up his trail again. And more women would die. She’d already blown three previous tips because of her impatience. Something she should have grown out of years ago.
As she moved through the throng of people, someone grabbed her rear end. She stopped to glare at the guilty party. He had the presence of mind to turn and leave immediately. People didn’t usually mess with Ivy, and if they did it was only once. She didn’t suffer fools easily.
She had a reputation for being cold as steel and just as inflexible. This was probably why she didn’t have a man or even bothered to date. What man could possibly live up to any of her expectations or abide by her rules of conduct?
None that she’d met so far.
The song changed tempo. The demon wrapped his arms around the two women and they slow danced together. His back was to her, which afforded her an opportunity to walk right up to him. And she did.
She tapped him on the shoulder. He turned and smiled at her. She tried to keep her face unreadable, a mask of indifference, when really she fumed with rage just being next to him.
“Can I cut in?” she asked with a grin she hoped was sexy and not laced with fury.
He looked her up and down. “Sure, Snow White.”
She got that comment a lot. It was because of her chin-length jet-black hair and pale complexion. To top it off, she’d chosen a perfect shade of red for her lips. Demons were attracted to the fiery color. Probably reminded them of home sweet home.
She smiled at him and let him put his hands on her tiny waist.
The other two women sneered at her. She sneered right back and said, “You can get lost now. The main attraction’s arrived.”
They stomped off the dance floor.
One goal down, one more to go. She needed to get him outside so she could stun him with the holy water and salt. Then she’d take him somewhere she could bind him in a devil’s trap and ask him questions. After he told her what she needed to hear she would slide her long silver blade through his heart. Or throat. Either spot would do to kill him and send him back home.
Ivy moved a little closer to him, trying hard not to cringe, and said, “Let’s get out of here. My car is parked in the alley.”
He grinned at her, and then leaned down to her ear. “Sure, Ivy. I’d love to.”
Grinding her teeth, she took a step back from him.
“I saw you the second you walked into the club.” He still danced in front of her, wriggling his hips seductively. “A guy just can’t miss that devastating face and killer body. Get it, killer?” He licked his lips.
“What now?” she asked. She didn’t want to make a scene. He had the upper hand here. He knew she wouldn’t want him to do anything rash and start killing people.
“We could still go out back and get our groove on. I wouldn’t mind tapping that ass of yours.”
Her fingers were itching to reach under her shirt and pull out her blades. She wondered if she could instead reach for the holy water and splash him with it. It might be enough to subdue him so she could take him out. Except the crowd was pushing in on her and she had barely enough room to shift from foot to foot.
“I’m going to kill you.” She flashed him a big grin and as quick as she could reached into her cleavage and plucked out an ampul.
But he was quicker.
He pushed her into the crowd. She stumbled backwards, knocking over two people. By the time she righted herself, he was on the move.
He crossed the dance floor in seconds and made his way to the back of the club, shoving people to the side as he dashed past. Ivy followed him, trying not to ram into the same people in his wake.
She thought about unsheathing her knives, but knew it would be risky inside the club with so many people around. What if someone accidentally ran into her? There were no take backs in demon hunting. When a blade went in, that was it. There was no second chance. Her knives were lethally sharp, coated with salt and blessed by a priest. They were meant to kill. Demon or human, the result was usually the same.
He ran past the washrooms and through the kitchen. He was heading for the back door, that much she knew. She tried to keep up as best she could, but demons were fast and light on their feet. She’d even seen some run up walls and jump over cars. Agility was their strong suit.
Ivy weaved around the baffled kitchen staff; some were pointing to the back, cursing up a storm at having been interrupted. At least she knew which way the demon went.
The back door had just finished swinging when she pushed through it, one hand already snaking up her torso to snag a blade.
The second she was out the door, she hit a wall. Well, not a real wall, but a man built like a brick house.
She bounced off his chest and landed on her butt on the ground.
He reached down with his hand to help her up. “Are you okay?”
She took it and let him heave her to her feet, but she quickly let it go when she realized how hot her chest was getting. She glanced down and saw the glow of her amulet. It lit up the alleyway in blue.
“Damn it.” She reached into her shirt and grabbed her last ampul. Setting it in the palm of her hand, she smashed it against the man’s chin, then reaching down for her salt bag, she untied it and quickly dashed salt all over his head.
She stood back waiting for the wailing and the skin bubbling to begin. But nothing happened.
He just looked at her, a rather pissed-off look in his eyes, then wiped at the water dripping off his chin. The glass of the ampul made a nick in his skin. Blood beaded to the surface. He dabbed at it with his thumb.
“You’re not melting.”
He ran a big hand through his tousled dark hair, and then said, “Yeah, about that.”
Chapter 2
Ronan Ames knew exactly who he was standing in front of. Ivy Strom was legendary.
