Read Online (SPECTR 1) Hunter of Demons by Jordan L. Hawk - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jordan L. Hawk
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Gay, Paranormal, Gay & Lesbian, gay romance, Genre Fiction, Vampires, Psychics, Demons & Devils
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his knees, Starkweather’s solid arms supporting him, and he had no idea how he’d even gotten there. And even though he knew he shouldn’t trust a Spec, he couldn’t help but lean into the other man. The clean scent of soap and aftershave filled his nose, mingling with warm male skin.
Fingers stroked his hair. “Come on, Caleb. Talk to me.”
“I’m all right,” he whispered. “I’m fine.” If possessed but still mostly himself qualified as fine, anyway.
Starkweather drew back a little, but he didn’t entirely let go. “What happened?”
“Gray…the memories bothered him. They didn’t before.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away from the only source of comfort he had, Spec or no. “I’m sorry. I can’t—I can’t think about this. Not now. Please?”
Starkweather gave him a long, assessing look. “All right. We’ll call it quits for today. Do you want to watch TV? Read a book?”
TV with a Spec. Not normal…but approximating it, anyway. “Sounds good.”
“All right.” Starkweather helped Caleb to his feet. “I hope you like NASCAR.”
Chapter 10
John sat at his computer, wondering what the hell to put in his case notes. It was getting late; the sun had long ago set outside the big windows. Caleb slept in the bedroom across the hall, and the rest of the building was silent, except for the occasional creak or groan of the old beams shifting as the temperature outside dropped.
Did Gray sleep?
No one knew. Maybe NHEs had some kind of circadian rhythm, but no one had ever thought to ask the question until now. Hell, he’d never before truly realized just how little anyone knew about the etheric entities which existed alongside the physical world. There was barely a consensus they came from this world at all, rather than emanating from some other dimension.
Nothing about Gray made sense. If the drakul was telling the truth, if the knives really had been stone, he’d have to be several hundred years old at the minimum. Assuming he’d been called up by the Aztecs, anyway.
But mud brick pyramids didn’t sound like Aztec design. It sounded like ziggurats. Mesopotamia.
No. That was just insane. There was no possible way Gray had spent ten-thousand years jumping from corpse to corpse. Someone would have exorcised him long before now.
Unless they’d tried and couldn’t. Unless whoever had called him up in the first place, with blood and sacrifice and power, had let something loose in the world which couldn’t be sent back.
It would certainly explain how indifferent Gray seemed to all of John’s poking and prodding. Except…he hadn’t been, not completely. He’d gotten upset at the memories, ones he’d presumably been carrying for quite a while, no matter how old he was.
So why now? What had changed, other than he possessed a living body? Caleb’s body?
John shut the computer off without typing anything. Right now, there was nothing to record except wild speculation, none of which would help Caleb. He needed to get to HQ and dig into the library there, try to chase down anything fitting Gray’s description. Single entity, 10,000 years old, seeks same. Must be into inhabiting dead bodies and drinking the blood of the possessed.
Maybe it would be safe to go in tomorrow, just for a few hours. Everything had been fine thus far. Gray hadn’t shown any inclination to take control since the attempted exorcism. It was a risk, but what about this case wasn’t?
“Listen to me, John,” Sean had said on the street outside, as he handed over the bag of clothes he’d bought. “This is…this is crazy. You’ve always been reckless, but lately, I swear you’ve got some kind of death wish. I think you need help.”
“This wasn’t my idea, remember? If you want to blame someone, blame Kaniyar.”
“Oh, I do. She’s taking advantage of the fact you never could pass up a challenge. And it’s going to get you killed.”
Sean just didn’t understand. He’d
Fingers stroked his hair. “Come on, Caleb. Talk to me.”
“I’m all right,” he whispered. “I’m fine.” If possessed but still mostly himself qualified as fine, anyway.
Starkweather drew back a little, but he didn’t entirely let go. “What happened?”
“Gray…the memories bothered him. They didn’t before.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away from the only source of comfort he had, Spec or no. “I’m sorry. I can’t—I can’t think about this. Not now. Please?”
Starkweather gave him a long, assessing look. “All right. We’ll call it quits for today. Do you want to watch TV? Read a book?”
TV with a Spec. Not normal…but approximating it, anyway. “Sounds good.”
“All right.” Starkweather helped Caleb to his feet. “I hope you like NASCAR.”
Chapter 10
John sat at his computer, wondering what the hell to put in his case notes. It was getting late; the sun had long ago set outside the big windows. Caleb slept in the bedroom across the hall, and the rest of the building was silent, except for the occasional creak or groan of the old beams shifting as the temperature outside dropped.
Did Gray sleep?
No one knew. Maybe NHEs had some kind of circadian rhythm, but no one had ever thought to ask the question until now. Hell, he’d never before truly realized just how little anyone knew about the etheric entities which existed alongside the physical world. There was barely a consensus they came from this world at all, rather than emanating from some other dimension.
Nothing about Gray made sense. If the drakul was telling the truth, if the knives really had been stone, he’d have to be several hundred years old at the minimum. Assuming he’d been called up by the Aztecs, anyway.
But mud brick pyramids didn’t sound like Aztec design. It sounded like ziggurats. Mesopotamia.
No. That was just insane. There was no possible way Gray had spent ten-thousand years jumping from corpse to corpse. Someone would have exorcised him long before now.
Unless they’d tried and couldn’t. Unless whoever had called him up in the first place, with blood and sacrifice and power, had let something loose in the world which couldn’t be sent back.
It would certainly explain how indifferent Gray seemed to all of John’s poking and prodding. Except…he hadn’t been, not completely. He’d gotten upset at the memories, ones he’d presumably been carrying for quite a while, no matter how old he was.
So why now? What had changed, other than he possessed a living body? Caleb’s body?
John shut the computer off without typing anything. Right now, there was nothing to record except wild speculation, none of which would help Caleb. He needed to get to HQ and dig into the library there, try to chase down anything fitting Gray’s description. Single entity, 10,000 years old, seeks same. Must be into inhabiting dead bodies and drinking the blood of the possessed.
Maybe it would be safe to go in tomorrow, just for a few hours. Everything had been fine thus far. Gray hadn’t shown any inclination to take control since the attempted exorcism. It was a risk, but what about this case wasn’t?
“Listen to me, John,” Sean had said on the street outside, as he handed over the bag of clothes he’d bought. “This is…this is crazy. You’ve always been reckless, but lately, I swear you’ve got some kind of death wish. I think you need help.”
“This wasn’t my idea, remember? If you want to blame someone, blame Kaniyar.”
“Oh, I do. She’s taking advantage of the fact you never could pass up a challenge. And it’s going to get you killed.”
Sean just didn’t understand. He’d
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