Deadly Desire (Riley Jenson Guardian #7)(37)

The hellhound screamed, the sound so high and piercing that I had to resist the urge to thrust my hands up to my ears to muffle the sound. I twisted out of the creature's way, but it was too close and moving too fast. It hit with incredible force, lifting me off my feet and throwing me backward.
I smashed into the wall, cracking my head against the brick and driving the breath from my lungs. Pain hit like a truck and blood spurted, the metallic taste filling my mouth. I spat it out and scrambled sideways, somehow avoiding the creature's slashing paws. A weird bubbling sound rode the air, accompanied by the scent of burning flesh. The holy water, doing its stuff, but nowhere near fast enough for my liking.
I twisted around, knife once again in front of me, and saw the mess that was the creature's face. It wasn't dead. Wasn't even stopped. Its olfactory senses might be in the process of being destroyed, but right now it could still smell me. And it attacked—hard, fast, and low. I leapt out of the way, rolled to my feet, and slashed at its neck with the knife. This time it cut deep, and black blood spurted from the creature's wound, spraying across my face and arms, stinging like acid.
I swore and scrambled away, stripping off my shirt and hastily swiping at the blood. It did little more than smear the stinking black fluid, but at least the sting lessened. The scrape of nails against concrete echoed across the night—the creature, coming after me again. I kept running, gathering speed, then leapt, as high and as hard as I could. I grabbed the gutters of the nearest building and hauled myself up onto the roof.
The creature leapt after me. I sidestepped and swept the knife down hard. The blazing blade sliced through flesh and bone with little effort, and the hellhound's head dropped at my feet. Its momentum kept the body flying past, so that it crashed back down several feet away. Blue flames spread quickly across its remains, consuming its flesh until there was nothing left but ash.
Ash the wind quickly scattered. Even the smeared blood on my arms disappeared.
One down, one to go.
I leapt over the remaining bits of soot and ran across the rooftop. Below in the alleyway, the second creature howled, and this time there was no answering shot. Kye was running backward, slashing at the creature with a short knife, chipping at the claws that threatened to rend him in two, but doing little else to stop it.
The hellhound's face was ruined, its nose rotting and ready to fall off, its eyes mere holes. It didn't matter, it was relying on sound and its ears were in perfect working order. I stopped, took a deep breath, then, as Kye passed my position, leapt.
I landed on the creature's back and wrapped my legs around its belly. It roared and began to buck, twist, and turn. I held on, raised the knife, then plunged it down as hard as I could, thrusting the blade deep into its neck before twisting it hard. As one side of the creature's neck began to split away from its body, I pulled out the knife and hacked at the remaining skin.
The creature crashed to the ground, taking me with it. Kye leapt in, grabbed my arms, and hauled me free from the creature, but already it was beginning to disintegrate, the blue flame of the knife crawling over its body, consuming it, until there was nothing left but ash blowing away on the breeze.
“I really am going to have to get one those knives,” he said, lifting me upright with little effort. “They do a rather efficient job on hell's beasties.”“That they do.” I stepped back then moved across to the bins to retrieve my bag. My hip ached in protest, and blood gushed warmly down my leg. But I couldn't shapeshift when I was holding silver, and I wouldn't have done so anyway. Kye might have fought by my side, but I didn't entirely trust him.
Though I wasn't sure what he could do when I was in wolf form that he couldn't do when I was in human. I shoved the knife back into its sheath, then picked up the bag and my coat and swung around.
“Will the witch sense the death of her hounds?” he asked, his crossed arms slashed and bleeding almost as much as my leg.
Maybe he didn't trust me enough to change shape and stop the bleeding.
It was a somewhat cheery thought, if only because I didn't think there was much that made this wolf pause. Certainly the hellhounds hadn't fazed him.
“From what I understand, sorcerers use a lot of ‘personal’ magic as well as their own blood to raise the sort of magic required for the hellhounds. So yes, she will probably feel their deaths.”
“Meaning she might come here to investigate.”
“I doubt it. Whatever else these women might be, they aren't stupid. And that would be a stupid move.”
“Still, it's worth staying here to check. If the bad guys never did stupid things, then we good guys would never catch them.”
I snorted softly. “I hardly think you can stand in line with the good guys, Kye.”
“Depends on who's paying me at the time,” he said, without the slightest trace of humor. “Right now, I'm on the side of the angels.”
“I don't think the angels appreciate it.” Or wanted it.
“Tough,” he said, leaving me wondering if he was answering my spoken or unspoken comment. If I'd had more energy, I might have retaliated and found out, but right now, I just wanted to go home, have a shower, and grab some sleep.
“Well, you can have this watch all to yourself. Although I would appreciate being told if anything interesting happens.”
“If anything interesting happens, I'll give you a call.”
“You haven't got my number.” And he wasn't going to get it, either.
He smiled. It was the sort of smile that suggested getting information like that wasn't a problem. And for someone like him, it probably wasn't. Hell, he'd probably already snatched it in his sneaky mind raids.
And how he did that, when I supposedly had shields strong enough to keep out the likes of Quinn and Jack—who were the strongest telepaths I'd ever met—is one of the many things I wanted to know. But not now, when I was so bone tired.
“Good night, Kye.” 
“Don't let the vampires bite.”
“Why shouldn't I?” I countered sweetly, “when that only adds to the overall pleasure? And trust me, it is pleasurable.”
He didn't say anything, but there was a fierceness in his eyes that made something deep inside tremble. I had an odd feeling I'd just flung a challenge his way, and I was going to regret it.
Or worse still, not regret it.
I hitched my bag up onto my shoulder and walked away before I got myself into deeper trouble.
Getting a taxi when I looked like something the dog had thrown up proved to be problematic. So was flying home clutching a bag filled with clothes, holy water, and a great big silver knife. Which meant I ended up walking—not fun, and a pretty crappy way to end the night.
I slept the sleep of the dead when I got home, and it was well after three by the time I dragged myself back to the land of the living.
The apartment was quiet, but the scent of coffee lingered in the air, tantalizing my taste buds. Hoping Liander had left the percolator on for me, I flung the blankets off and climbed out of bed. My hip twinged a reminder to be careful, and I glanced down. Three pink scars stretched from the top of my hip to my thigh—a stark reminder of just how close I'd come to death again last night. One of these days, my luck was going to change.
I shivered and thrust the thought away as I walked into the kitchen. The coffee was still warm, and I breathed deep, sucking in the delicious scent, feeling it flow down through my body, waking and revitalizing.
Coffee on call, without having to wait for the kettle to boil, had to be one of life's greatest pleasures. Of all the good things Liander had brought to our lives, the coffeemaker had to be among the best of them.
I poured myself a cup, then splashed in some milk, taking several sips before I shoved some bread in the toaster. My cell phone rang, and I knew without doubt it would be Jack. He always seemed to pick the worst possible moments to call with an update.
I walked into the living room, dug my phone out of my bag, and hit the receive button.
“I was going to call in a report right after I had a coffee, boss,” I said.
“I'm not ringing for a report,” he said, voice flat and annoyed.
Which couldn't mean that anything good had happened.
“Then what's the problem?”
“We've got ourselves another dead vampire, and this time it's really bad.”
thought you were going to bring in the teenager with the birthmark to stop her being used,” I said, voice sharp.
“We did. And we tracked down the five vamps who I know like body imperfections. This isn't one of them. I think it was a last-minute deal.”
Or an outpouring of anger that the sorcerer's plans had been frustrated.
“So how much worse than decapitation and body parts being hacked away can it be?” I said, half wishing I'd stayed in bed and not answered the phone.
“Lots, from what Cole is saying. He's there now. I want you to head over and see if you can feel anything.”
“I haven't felt any souls up to now, so why do you think I'd feel one at this murder?”
“Because this time, they killed the woman who was with him. She was human, and she just might be confused enough about her death to still be there.”
“We don't know that both women are involved in the vamp killings. You'd think Cole would have found some evidence of wheelchair use in at least one of the murder scenes by now.”
“Not if she was using her crow form.”
“The worst a crow could do is peck someone to death.”