Beast of Fire -- a Demon Hunting Sexy Romance (6 page)

He laughed, disbelieving, hovering in the doorway, blocking her exit. “So you unlocked the door and came right in?”

“Locked?” she asked, playing naive–a dangerous game, and she knew it. Her mind calculated the distance to shoot fire at his feet, but warned herself of the repercussions. Once she acted, she was stuck with the consequences of her actions. Talking her way out of this was the only acceptable option and offered a slight chance of saving her job. “It wasn’t locked."

Suddenly, he was in front of her, his hand removing the book from hers, his big body crowding hers. His nostrils flared, and she knew he smelled her fear, perhaps her lie. “It was locked. We both know it was locked.”

She didn’t dare lie again. “I love history,” she said, and it was the truth. Not relevant to the situation, but nonetheless, the truth. He was close. Too close. Kresley stepped backward, hitting a shelf. “Can I leave?”

 
His lips twitched; his gaze slid down her body. “Maybe you should,” he murmured. “Before I lock the door again with you inside.” Her breath lodged in her throat because she had the distinct impression he meant lock her up, with him inside with her.
 

She sidestepped and shot toward the door, her stomach queasy as her arm brushed his. Back in Cullen’s office, she didn’t hesitate, grabbing her purse and taking off for the elevator. She punched the button, waiting impatiently for it to come, and considered the stairs. The steel doors finally opened and she stepped inside, facing forward; the tingling on the back of her neck eased a bit. She didn’t see him, but he was there. She knew he was there, somewhere – watching.
 

The doors closed and she had a mere thirty-eight-floor ride down to decide what to do next, a ride that might have seemed long another time – but not now, now it seemed short. Would she be allowed to leave? If they tried to stop her, should she attack with her fire? Should she play it coy and talk her way out of things? She had to try. Yes. Had to. Losing this job was losing her chance to be near Cullen and that ring. Surely Nick wouldn’t have let her leave the office, if he intended to stop her from exiting the building. But he could have second thoughts, if not tonight, later. Assuming she got out of here without resistance, did she dare gamble and return tomorrow?
 

She had decisions to make, choices that could impact Lucan. She pressed her hand to her chest, inhaling as the elevator chimed past each floor, one by one. Think about the security officer at the elevator, think about what to do if he stops you. Anytime she used her fire, she risked hurting innocent people, risked a fire that could spread. Could she defeat him without giving away her firestarting? She was operating on zero information, that was the problem; she knew nothing of the Werewolves. Not their strengths, their weaknesses.
 
If she was to return, to survive this, she needed more information than Adrian would give her, information that served her purposes not his.
 

The elevator opened.
 
With a frown, she noted the empty security desk. To free her hands for a possible confrontation– though hindered by the high heels, skirt and no weapon –Kresley slid her wallet-sized purse over her head, across her neck. Then she stepped out into the dimly lit lobby and started walking; the tiled floor beneath her heels echoed with the impact, the sound spiraling upward, lifting into the open foyer that reached to all thirty-eight floors.

Kresley shivered against the haunting feeling of being watched. She turned back and noted the security desk remained unattended, still worried that someone would stop her. You have your fire, she reminded herself, hastening her pace. You always have your fire. Two steps, three, she pushed open the exit door, the cool night air a welcome sign of freedom. Several steps forward without anyone impeding her progress, and she told herself she was fine. No battle, no fight.

But she knew she was lucky, knew she had to arm herself with information about the wolves; she could no longer fly blindly. Some kind of leverage over Cullen might even deliver the ring without a battle, without waiting for a chance to get him alone and unguarded. Without the risk of hurting innocents. Yes, knowledge was what she needed. Because what she was doing now clearly was not working. And that knowledge had to be found soon.
 

She quickly summarized her options in her mind. Going to the Knights was out. She couldn’t risk their interference, risk having them insist that she leave Lucan to the Underworld. That left only one alternative, one source– the world of the dark arts, the underground circle she’d discovered that existed in every city around the world.
 

"The Dark Circle"–as many called it– was a world in which she was becoming almost too comfortable; but then, this would be her life from now on – this would be her world. Why fight it? This was about saving Lucan, not denying the truth about herself to feel better, even for the tiny bit of time she might have left among humans.
   

She took a sharp left, cut across the street; she knew her destination. In each sector of the Dark Circle, there were "Ladies of the Veil," Seers who lgedthe secrets hidden within the shadows. It was said that these women could touch your soul, judge it righteous, judge it poisonous.

Kresley hated these types of sorcerers, didn’t want to know what they saw within her, preferred to hide behind her youth and the façade of innocence. Or at least she had. That time had passed. She knew what she was and where her future lay. She was done hiding from it.
 

Determination in her steps, Kresley covered blocks, turned into a side alley leading to a set of underground clubs she knew would guide her to the Seer.
 
Yet she hadn't gone far down that dark path before she knew her bravado was misplaced. She felt the tingling, the tension. She was being followed.

Chapter Four

Cullen did more than keep his enemies close; he studied them, learned their history, learned their habits. The Firestarter had wanted inside his life, daring to show up to interview for a job, and he’d welcomed her, eager to keep her near, where he could watch her, get to know her.

Only minutes after Kresley had fled the building, Cullen took to the stairs, with several floors separating him and his office, him and the opportunity to throttle his Head of Security. Damn it, he’d set Kresley up, left her alone so he could find out what she was after, and why she hadn’t gone for the ring yet. And she'd wanted the ring, he knew this. He’d seen her discomfort when she'd looked at it; he knew she knew what it was, what it was capable of doing. He'd also sensed she was without malice, an innocent being used as a pawn. Which meant she could be persuaded to become an ally not an enemy.
 

He lengthened his stride, took two stairs at once, cursed again.
 

He hoped like hell she showed up for work again the next day. After days of his security team following Kresley, there was no obvious link to a conspirator, no proof of a connection to the Hunter. So he still had nothing that would help him turn her, to shift her allegiance to him.
 

Cullen shoved the stairwell door open, and charged toward his office, knowing full well Nick was still there–a little too comfortable lingering in his office as far as Cullen was concerned. Sure enough, he walked into his office to find his Head of Security talking on the phone, his telephone, behind his desk.
 

Unbidden, a territorial blade ripped through him, and Cullen crossed to his desk, reclaiming what was his. Not questioning why he felt such a thing. Centuries of living, of conquering his enemies, had taught him to trust his instincts, and Nick needed to be put in his place. And despite Nick’s centuries of service, something had changed, shifted, set off warnings. Exactly why Cullen hadn’t involved Nick in his plan this night.
 

Nick glanced up as Cullen approached, apprehension spiking in the air as he saw the turbulent look on Cullen’s face. Nick quickly ended the call and removed himself from behind the desk. Cullen wasted no time; he stepped behind the wooden frame, claiming what was his.
 

Nick’s hands went to his hips. "I just found our little firestarter nosing around your office.” He motioned to the corner. “In your library.” Reaching in his pocket, he removed a key and tossed it on the desk. “We should have dealt with her fast and decisively as I said, rather than played these games with her, hiring her as if we don’t know who she is or that she's out to do us harm.”
 

Cullen's brows lifted. "I wasn’t aware she’d taken any action against us.”
 

“What do you call tonight?”
 

“Thanks to your interruption, nothing, a failure,” he stated harshly. "I left her in my office alone for a reason – ammunition. I knew she would nose around, and I’d have it on tape. A tape that could be used to scare her into talking. But your premature interruption already gave her an out. She claimed innocence, and she’ll stick to that story. And I don’t have enough to insist that she’s lying. So,” he ground his teeth, his voice taking a guttural tone, "nothing. I got nothing. Exactly what your security team keeps producing.”

Nick’s jaw dropped. “You set her up?”

“You’re damn straight I set her up,” Cullen said. “Someone has to find out what she’s after. Who she’s working for.”
 

Nick grimaced, his gaze sweeping Cullen’s ring. “She was flustered when she left here. She’ll go to her contact tonight, and we will know the truth. She’ll be dealt with.”
 

“She is not to be touched,” Cullen ordered. “Report back to me and nothing more.” He had a strong sense that Kresley was a pawn in something bigger, and he wanted to know what. “I want her back here at work, where I can keep an eye on her myself. She is too young and naive to be acting alone. She is the key to finding out our true enemy.”
 

“Keeping her close is dangerous.”

“It is my decision to make.”

“You are taking risks that affect the entire pack.”

Anger slammed through Cullen. “Are you questioning my way of leadership?”

Nick glared for a moment and then cut his gaze. “No,” he said, then returned his gaze, composed, tone submissive. “I am forever loyal to this pack. I simply do not want all we have fought for to be destroyed. That ring protects us from attacks by the Underworld. The Firestarter is the only one who can fight you for its possession.”

Cullen rejected that answer. “Yet she has not. We will not act rashly. Not until we know more.”

“Then take precautions. Hide the ring. Lock it away safely.”
 

A lightning whip of warning shot through Cullen and not for the first time. He pressed his palms to the desk. “That suggestion grows old, Nick. Make no mistake–no one, not even that firestarter can remove this ring from my hand. Suggest again that I do so myself, and you will not be pleased with the outcome.”
 

Nick pulled back his shoulders, tensed. “I have been a leader in this pack for centuries, Cullen. I do nothing that is not meant for their best interests.”

Cullen narrowed a steely gaze on Nick. “There is only one leader of this pack, and that is me. Perhaps you need to remember that.” Blood rushed into Nick’s face, anger pinching his features. Cullen continued dismissively, “I’ll expect a report on your encounter with the Firestarter before the night is over.”
 

Nick sucked in air, expelled it slowly. “As you wish,” Nick stated, his voice raspy with barely contained fury. He turned and started for the door.

“Nick,” Cullen said with lethal calm as his head of security reached the door. Nick turned back around and did so a little too slowly to suit Cullen. “I meant what I said,” Cullen added in warning. “I decide how, and when, Kresley is dealt with. Is that understood?”

Tight-lipped, Nick agreed. “Understood.” He turned sharply to the door and departed.

Cullen snatched the key from the desk and entered the library; his keen sense of smell would have directed him to the books Kresley had touched, even had he not watched her on the camera. He’d studied humanity enough to know that they gravitated to the familiar, so her interest in the Bibles had not surprised him. But her interest in the Star of David had been unexpected. She’d studied it with familiarity, and he'd sensed her reluctance to let go of the book upon Nick’s appearance.
 

He reached for the leather-bound book, ran his hand over the symbol. It was a gift from a race of Fae Warriors he’d only just learned existed on earth. He’d met one of their Princes at the newly formed "Peace Council," an alliance of those who lived peacefully among humans and who had come together to face the threat of Adrian’s claim on earth. The book told of the Knights of White, of their leader who had replaced Solomon as a protector of earth, a destroyer of Demons. The Prince was rallying to include the Knights in their Council, though there wasn’t a Demon among them willing to see that happen, afraid of finding a sword against their necks.
 

Cullen had studied that book cover-to-cover several times. Anyone who considered Adrian an enemy was of interest, even those who might consider his own head a prize.
 

His mind retraced Kresley’s expression on the surveillance video, remembering the shocked look on her lovely face as she’d pressed her fingers to that star.