The streetlights lit his face and she sucked in a sharp breath. The man was beautiful. Not handsome or striking—freaking beautiful. Like a fallen angel, every aspect of him was perfect. Black hair curled around high cheekbones, emphasizing the golden hue of his skin. Dark lashes shaded averted eyes and her gaze fell to the full lips a woman would kill for.
He was tall, taller than her at least, and muscled. The T-shirt he wore stretched across his chest and despite the tears and stains on the fabric nothing detracted from the confidence seeping from him. Strong arms were folded across his chest and she saw a black tattoo encircling one biceps, written in a language she’d never seen. Finally her gaze came to rest on the sword at his waist. Tall, Dark and Handsome was definitely not a wayward teen looking for a house to crash in.
“Finished?” His voice flowed over her, dark and rich.
“For now,” she said, refusing to let him unsettle her. “Does GQ know about you?”
He looked at her then and her gaze clashed with the inky blackness of his eyes. “You’re a hunter.”
She bowed mockingly. “And you are?”
“Not.”
Before she could speak flames leapt into his eyes, igniting the ebony. Darcy stiffened.
“Demon,” she whispered. “Fire demon.” The worst of them all. You didn’t mess with fire demons if you wanted to keep breathing. All it took was a single touch and they could burn you up from the inside.
“Not quite,” he purred. “But close.” The flames extinguished as if they’d never been.
Darcy shifted her weight to her back foot, ready to fight. “Why are you here, demon?”
His smile sent a chill down her spine. “Did you know the hunter who lived in this house?”
She blinked at the question, unsure how to answer.
He watched her closely, as if daring her to lie to him.
Lifting her chin, Darcy nodded.
His smile turned into a full grin and for a moment she was struck by the sight, equally beautiful and menacing.
“Good.”
He flew at her with speed she could barely track.
Darcy threw herself to the side, nearly missing being beheaded by the sword instantly appearing in his hand. She leapt back before finding her balance on the balls of her feet. The demon twirled around, nothing in his dark eyes but bloodlust.
Should have called Blake, she thought as she studied him. This was not a demon to mess with. Usually the breed was more monster than man, with dangling arms dragging on the floor, and bloodred eyes. Those creatures she could fight. But the more powerful the demon, the more it was able to resemble humans, making it easier to hunt its prey. Given the looks of the demon before her and the fire he’d been able to call, he had to be advanced in the hierarchy. Higher than she could handle without backup.
Fight and run, she decided. I’m not dying tonight.
She attacked, not willing to give him another chance to skewer her. The demon might be bigger and stronger, but she was more lithe. Darcy darted to the right before feinting left. She danced around behind him, driving both blades toward his unprotected back.
The demon turned, knocking away one dagger with his blade. Darcy didn’t even pause but drove her knuckles into his windpipe. A choking sound escaped him as he doubled over.
Elation surged in her as she slammed her dagger down at his back but he surprised her again, blocking the attack with an arm before hitting her palm-first in the chest.
Her feet left the ground and she soared across the bedroom, smashing into the wardrobe on the other side of the bed.
Darcy crashed into the floor hard enough to make her head spin. She forced herself to her feet as the demon swung his massive sword at her. Ducking under it, she kicked out at his kneecap. He blocked the blow and flicked his fingers at her. Fire shot through the air, barely missing her. He grinned when she stumbled backward and fury rose at the sight. The bastard was playing with her.
Darcy drew the silver dagger at her waist. The demon waited for her, a crooked smile on his lips, not even out of breath.
“Come, mortal,” he urged. “Dazzle me.”
Cold settled over her and she welcomed it. It banished the fear flooding her, cooled the impulsive emotions liable to get her killed. Her vision tunneled as her body switched to survival mode. It’d taken years and dozens of broken bones to attain such focus.
She launched herself at him again but this time her actions were precise, every strike stronger than the previous ones. She darted around him faster than he could turn. With a swipe of her legs she threw him to the floor, following him down with a dagger aimed at his heart.
The demon grabbed her arm and flipped her over his head but she rolled to her knees immediately, slashing out. He jerked away from the blade in her hand but not quickly enough. A shallow cut sliced across his chest. Small green drops of blood beaded along the wound.