Where There's Smoke (4 page)

It didn’t.

The Indian slashed downward. Chance feinted to the right, then grabbed the Indian’s arm. Their gazes locked. Chance saw the same excitement that he was feeling mirrored in the Indian’s eyes.

And the Indian’s arm felt just a little too real. Up close like this, he also looked a little too real.

Chance only had a moment to wonder just how much Hunter had tweaked the holograms. The Indian pushed hard against his chest. Chance lost his balance and fell to the ground, landing with a hard jolt that knocked the breath out of him.

He recovered quickly and planted a booted foot against the Indian’s chest, using the momentum to push the Indian over his head. The Indian landed on his shoulder, the knife flying from his hand. Chance jumped to his feet and ran toward him. Just before he reached the Indian, he drew back his fist and landed a solid punch that connected with his jaw. There was a loud crack. The Indian spun around. Chance drew back his fist again and connected with his gut. When the Indian doubled over, Chance brought his knee up. As if in slow motion, the Indian fell back, crumpling to the ground.

Chance drew in a deep breath and looked around.

All clear.

A slow grin curved his lips. Damn, he missed all of this. Herding cattle and fixing fences just wasn’t the same thing as tangling with someone who was trying to kill him. He almost hoped one of the Indians would get to his feet, but just as quickly as the thought came to him, the warriors disappeared, leaving only a sprinkling of glitter dust in their wake.

A shame. He was just getting started.

His horse was at the bottom of the hill, munching on grass. He waited, but the horse didn’t vanish. Chance only hoped Hunter brought the real thing for them to ride. He’d hate to be galloping along and have the horse disappear from under him.

Excitement still flowed through his veins when he caught up with the others about a mile north. Chance nudged his horse, joining them.

“Next time you might want to mention just how much you
tweaked
the holograms.”

“Had fun, didn’t you?” Hunter asked.

Chance leaned forward in the saddle, resting his arm against the saddle horn. “That’s beside the point.”

Hunter laughed. “I knew everyone would enjoy the challenge.”

“We could’ve been at a bar,” Ryder grumbled.

“You just want to get laid tonight,” Dillon said.

“And that would be a problem, why?”

“You know, you can go blind from overuse.” Chance laughed.

Ryder and Dillon joined in. Hunter was the only one who wore a serious expression.

“What?” Chance finally asked.

“We still have one more place to go,” Hunter told them.

They looked at each other. All joking stopped. The others knew what Hunter was talking about.

“We have to?” Dillon bumped his gray Stetson up a little higher on his forehead.

“Yes, we do.”

“Then let’s get it over with.” Chance nudged his horse forward, dreading what was to come, but Hunter was right. They couldn’t forget who they were. If they grew careless, it could cost them their lives.

They rode side by side. Before they were even around the lake, Chance heard the flames crackling and spitting. He hesitated, his horse prancing beneath him. He calmed her fears with a few whispered words and a soothing caress down her neck before he climbed down. The others followed suit. Without speaking, they walked farther down the mountain, leaving their horses behind.

As they drew closer, the heat was like an electric blanket turned on high in the middle of a blazing hot Texas summer. When they rounded the corner, each man came face to face with his worst nightmare. No one spoke as they stared at what was before them. A blazing inferno, at least a mile high, rose into the sky, reaching toward the clouds, red and yellow flames whipping about like snakes caught in a tornado. There was only one way to get across.

Is everyone ready?” Hunter asked.

“Who came up with this insane idea, anyway?” Dillon grumbled.

“You did,” the other three replied in unison.

“It’s a reminder of what the fires of Hell will feel like if we should ever lose our souls,” Chance said.

Every time they faced an assignment even remotely involving demons, they knew the risks were higher.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you brought us here.” Chance drew in a deep breath as he mentally prepared himself for what was to come.

“Are we ready?” Hunter asked.

“Let’s go for it,” Dillon said.

“If we must, but I would never be in danger of losing my soul. Nope, no way in… hell.” Ryder snickered.

Ryder wasn’t as brave as he pretended. Chance heard the edge in his friend’s voice.

“We can do this,” Hunter said.

They locked hands and stepped into the flames at the same time. Together, they were four times stronger, four times more able to stand against evil.

The heat immediately spread over Chance—licking, burning. The pain was intense, almost too much to bear.

Chance continued forward, gritting his teeth and clamping his lips together. He could stand the pain because it would soon be over, unlike a demon who would feel the fire for decades. Only when any trace of kindness and compassion was burned away, when all that was left was the anger and torment, only then would the fury be released into demon form.

By then, demons were so consumed by pain and anguish they only wanted to wreak havoc on the innocent. As Chance forced his way through the fire, he kept seeing Destiny’s face before him. She didn’t deserve that kind of torture.

Flames licked at his arms and legs, branding him with pain. The stench of burning flesh filled his nostrils. Taking one step at a time, making it through the heat was all he focused on.

He could do this. He
would
do this for Destiny!

Beside Chance, Ryder stumbled. Chance tightened his grip. They would make it together or not at all! Ryder squeezed his hand, letting him know he was okay, and they continued forward, four nephilim as one.

Chance stepped out of the blaze, Dillon, Hunter, and Ryder with him. Fire fell from his body. He raised his arms to the heavens above. His roar of anger caused the cloud above him to grow black, and then it showered rain down upon them, cooling their burning skin. The pouring rain soon became a light drizzle. Once again, their bodies healed.

Damn it, Chance had to save her. If he could keep her here a week and a day, she would be safe from those fires. He would do all that was in his power to make that happen.

“I will set Destiny free!” Chance vowed to the heavens above. “Satan will not have her soul!”

The roar of thunder shook the bar. Destiny flinched, looking around, but no one else seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. Maybe the crash was meant for her ears alone. A demon could be sending her a warning. A cold chill ran down her spine.

When did she get so jittery? She wasn’t sure, but the odd feeling stayed with her. Chance wasn’t at the bar. Maybe that was it. Destiny felt as if she’d been stood up. Her life was littered with people who’d dumped her—starting with her mother. Destiny hadn’t thought about her in a long time.

Her hand trembled when she reached for her beer, bumping it instead. The bottle tilted; she grabbed it before it could fall. Destiny’s heart pounded inside her chest. She drew in a deep breath, forcing herself to relax. How could she let Rose hurt her after all these years? Her mother was nothing to her.

And she could tell herself that all day and it would still be a lie. For a while, Rose made a decent mother. Destiny remembered hugs, a second-hand doll from a dirty thrift store, food on the table. Rose worked two jobs. Her eyes had been a pretty blue, but they were always tired. Then a man came into Rose’s life and promised to make everything better. He hadn’t. Wasn’t that the way it always happened? Men could really screw things up.

She brought the bottle to her lips, taking a long drink of the cold liquid and letting it wash away her past.

Chance hadn’t agreed to return that or any other night. No big deal. She wouldn’t even let it bother her except the night before was so unbelievably good that she hoped for more of the same. Why not take what she could get for a change?

Her gaze moved around the dimly lit room. Everyone else seemed to be at the bar, though. The place was crowded. A typical Friday night. People were off work and ready to party.

Except for Chance.

Was he out on the range rounding up cattle? She wasn’t sure what hours cowboys worked. Her mouth turned down. Or if he was even a cowboy in the true sense. Just because he wore a cowboy hat and boots didn’t make him a cowboy. She tapped her ruby-red nails on the bar. Hell, she knew nothing about the man. Well, except that he could give a girl one hell of an orgasm.

Her eyes strayed to the beer mug clock hanging on the wall behind the bar. Almost eight thirty. Damn, she was so pathetic, but all she was able to think about was the way his magical fingers awakened her body. Her motor was purring. Downing three beers certainly didn’t help slow it down. Now she was even more revved, and she was starting to get irritated.

Why did she even wait for him? She’d already been hit on by no fewer than four eager men looking for hot sex, and every damn one of them wore a blasted black Stetson. She could’ve taken any one of them up on their offer of a good time. Before the night was over, she’d have more than one soul under her belt, and be on her way back to Hell.

Just as quickly as the thought entered her head, she dismissed it. No, she knew it wouldn’t be the same with someone else. That was why she didn’t take one of the offers. She wanted Chance, and only Chance would do.

The door opened, letting a sliver of light into the otherwise dim interior. She held her breath, then exhaled in a whoosh. The hookers again. They must be regulars. Business was booming. They should be able to make a little extra money. It was a sad day when they would get laid before her. Life could be a cruel bitch when she wanted to.

Destiny brought the bottle of beer up to her mouth and closed her eyes as she took a long draw, draining it. The beer was still ice-cold and it had been a long time since she’d had alcohol. She lowered the bottle, already feeling a little tipsy.

Ah, hell, where was he anyway?

“Can I buy a lady a beer?” Chance asked in his slow, sexy drawl.

She stiffened, then relaxed. Her world felt right. She almost hated him for that.

The cowboy definitely had some moves. She hadn’t even seen the door open. Not that anything mattered right now. Chance was here. Destiny didn’t care about anything else.

“You’re late,” she told him as she swiveled her stool to face him. Her thighs tingled. He looked all cowboy in a deep blue, button-down western shirt and snug-fitting jeans. And yum, he wore his black Stetson low on his forehead.

With one finger, he raised the brim and sat on the stool next to hers. His gaze roamed down her body, touching, caressing, before slowly moving back up and meeting her eyes once more.

“I didn’t know we had a date.” His words were low and husky, sending goose bumps spreading over her arms.

She drew in a deep breath, looking away. Chance had a way of making her want to strip out of her clothes and let him fuck her brains out. That thought had merit, except being discreet was a must, so stripping probably wasn’t wise. Demons were touchy about people knowing they really did exist. Which was odd because they offered so much: No more pain, no sadness, a life of luxury even Donald Trump would envy. She frowned. Except she had yet to see any of it.

She shook away her doubts. As soon as she brought in one more soul, she would have everything she dreamed about. No one would ever be able to hurt her again. Besides, she had other things she wanted to think about—like the sexy man in front of her.

She slowly slid her fingers up and down the condensation on the empty bottle. “After last night, you and I both know we aren’t finished.” She studied him for a moment. “Why did you leave? Surely you didn’t have a wife to get home to.” Perish the thought!

“No wife. I had to be someplace.”

Relief swept over her. Not that it mattered to her one way or the other if he was married. She was there for one thing and one thing only: to steal his soul. A wife didn’t play into her scheme of things. She rationalized that a wife would only have made her job more difficult, but secretly Destiny liked the idea that another woman hadn’t sunk her claws into him.

Chance looked around, then came to his feet.

Was he about to disappear again? Her heart pounded. Oh damn, she really needed him. The night before was just a teaser. She wanted the real thing—every delicious inch!

But Chance didn’t leave. He held out his hand. As if on cue, someone put money in the jukebox and a country ballad began to play.

“Dance with me.” His eyes bore into hers—hungry, as if he couldn’t stand not touching her one more second.

The air around them almost crackled from the passion building between them. She slid off the stool. He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. There were other couples moving to the rhythm of the music, not really dancing, just holding each other. It made the dance floor crowded. She didn’t care. She wanted to hold him close, feel his warmth.