“All right, aunt,” he purred. “What secrets are you hiding?”
He was heading for the dresser when light flashed across the dark room. Eyes narrowed, he stalked to the window and saw one of the metal vehicles humans so loved pull up before the house. The driver shut it down, cutting off the light. A woman stepped from the conveyance and looked up at the house.
Jaral hissed a breath. With his demon sight, he missed nothing about her. Not the flyaway blond hair a man could curl around his fist, nor the plump rose lips that lent themselves better to naughty fantasies than the tight, serious line she’d currently pulled them into.
The human was slender and tall. She walked with purpose, her shoulders thrown back and her chin up. Jaral nearly smiled at the “don’t screw with me” attitude she’d perfected. As she moved, his eyes caught something else. Something far more interesting than her looks.
Weapons rested on her hips, the tips of daggers showing under the hem of her black jacket. He looked more closely. This woman was not a fragile as she appeared.
A smile curved his lips. If he was not mistaken, a hunter strode toward him.
Thought of her attractiveness fled as a cold, vicious urge rose within him. Tonight was his lucky night. This pretty mortal would help ease his annoyance over this mission. And when her silvery hair was matted with blood, perhaps this cursed trip would be worth it.
* * *
Darcy marched toward Kerilyn’s abandoned house. It looked as though nothing had changed since last time she was here. Shortly after her death, several hunters had come to clear some things out and see if there was anything needing to be hidden from average human eyes. Once they’d done their part, they left the rest alone. The house had gone to a relation by marriage, Darcy knew, though it seemed the woman hadn’t wanted to come back to close it up. Everything should be as she’d left it. Last time she’d been here to help hide Kerilyn’s identity, doing only a quick sweep of the house before vanishing. This time she went with a fresh perspective, wanting to see if there was any evidence she could find to suggest Kerilyn had lived through that Halloween night.
She pulled her lock picks from her pocket and knelt by the front door. Inserting the instruments jostled the door and to her surprise, it squeaked open a fraction of an inch.
Darcy stared at the open door. A door that should have been locked.
How long had it been open? Teenagers looking for a house to party in could have left it this way, she supposed, but her instincts were kicking into overdrive.
She slipped the picks back into her pocket before slowly unzipping the bulky jacket that would hinder her movements. She shrugged out of it quietly, ignoring the biting cold. Laying the jacket aside, she drew the daggers at her wrists before easing the door open.
The hall was dark, the only illumination coming from the streetlights outside. Darcy stepped inside as she scanned the area. Everything looked as she’d left it. She closed the door quietly before reaching for the light switch. Nothing. She flicked it a few times before giving up. With no resident to pay the hydro, the power had been cut off.
Great, she thought, stepping into the living room. Maybe she should call Blake. But as soon as she thought it, she shrugged the inclination away. She was not a child who needed reassurance when the lights went out.
Carefully she crept through the room and through the connecting door to the kitchen. Empty. Perhaps the adrenaline surging through her veins wasn’t warranted after all.
She searched the rest of the rooms on the bottom floor before declaring them safe. One floor down, one to go. Darcy started up the stairs, careful to tread on the sides to minimize any squeaking of old wood.
The upper hall was darker than below. The only hint of light leaked from the bedrooms with front-facing windows. As silent as she could, she swept each room in turn, not wanting to risk something sneaking up behind her. When only one room remained, she should have felt more at ease. Instead she stared at Kerilyn’s door and was overcome with a strange reluctance to move forward. Years of hunting experience warned of what might lurk in the shadows. Waiting for her.
Leave or fight. A decision she faced almost every night. If she left, she’d never know why someone was in Kerilyn’s house. And with the spirit realm threatening to spew all over this world, information was power.
Decision made, she strode forward.
Darcy eased the door open and stepped into Kerilyn’s bedroom. The room faced the street and lamplight fought the gloom. She was ready for a surprise attack, a creature hiding under the bed or behind the door. But she wasn’t prepared for what she found.
A man waited, doing nothing to hide his presence. He leaned against the window frame gazing out at the night.