her ass, not do anything else to it.
“Is it over or do you need a minute?” she asked with one hundred and ten percent insincerity.
“You worry about you. I’m fine.” He shook himself off because that obviously wasn’t true. As if fantasizing about a human wasn’t bad enough, he was actually listening to what she said. The Devil’s reboot couldn’t have come at a better time. After fifty years on the surface, Davyn had forgotten what he was.
He’d heard of it happening, once, maybe twice since time began. Demons who refused to return, enjoying the human thing a bit more than they should, acclimatizing to it. Poor bastards. Sucked all the way down to Level Nine with the boss himself, never having another chance to get out of that fucking horrible pit.
Despite popular belief, a demon’s leash was annoyingly short and their collar uncomfortably tight. Go against any of the big man’s orders? Eternal pain in hell, no chance of parole.
“Let’s see what you got, puppet,” Davyn said, focusing on the issue at hand. “Prove to me you have any kind of value, because I’m really starting to wonder.”
“I thought I was bait.”
He shrugged. “You’re also easily replaceable. There’ll never be a shortage of pretty girls with short brown hair and low IQs.”
“Fuck you.”
“Sorry. The only thing I do with humans is fuck with them.”
The hunter pulled at her shirt, popping the first couple of buttons and exposing a bra, some beautiful breasts, and a knife holster. She very carefully pulled the knife out and held it in front of her. When the blade caught the light, suddenly Davyn had a lot more respect for her. It wasn’t steel. It wasn’t even iron.
It was salt. Had to be homemade because you couldn’t buy shit like that off the shelf at Walmart. She’d whittled a salt block into a fucking knife. It wasn’t strong, but that was the brilliance of it—all she had to do was stab him. As soon as the blade broke off inside his body, he’d be in excruciating pain until he could get all of it out.
“You little devil,” he said in admiration. “Did you make that for me or for the other bastard?”
She answered with a tiny shrug of her shoulders, but her message was heard.
Davyn smiled. She confused him—a very tough thing to do. Moderately smart and highly ambitious, consumed by what she wanted and willing to do whatever it took to get it. Humans claimed to be willing, but they never were, stumbling over the first roadblock and making up some stupid excuse as to why they had to quit. This one was going up against two demons to get to a vampire. It was just delusional enough to actually work, and Davyn wanted to be there—to see her reach the goal or die trying.
So he wouldn’t kill her. Not yet. But they could still have fun, couldn’t they?
“What you waiting for, puppet? Pretend I’m him, the big, scary vampire who fucked you up.” He held his arms out, mocking her, prodding her. “What are you going to do to get yourself killed?”
They’d circled each other, her gaze tracking his movement, as well as their positions in the alley.
“They’re watching us,” she stage whispered.
“Who?” He hadn’t noticed any humans in the alley, but then, he’d been slightly distracted. “Where?”
She flicked her head towards the entrance to the alley, still lit up by fire. As soon as he turned his head to look, she jumped him. Or kicked him, rather, smart enough not to touch him with her hands before she knew how hot he was. Her foot landed in his gut, very close to—
“You little liar!” he shouted. Nice move.
Her other foot sliced upwards, connecting with his groin before she spun and pushed herself off him, doing a cartwheel, flip-floppy thing as he gripped his knees, head down, eyes closed, pain shooting.
“Son of a bitch,” he groaned through his teeth. “Would you please stop hitting me in the balls? I need them.”
“Doubt it.” At least she was breathing
“Is it over or do you need a minute?” she asked with one hundred and ten percent insincerity.
“You worry about you. I’m fine.” He shook himself off because that obviously wasn’t true. As if fantasizing about a human wasn’t bad enough, he was actually listening to what she said. The Devil’s reboot couldn’t have come at a better time. After fifty years on the surface, Davyn had forgotten what he was.
He’d heard of it happening, once, maybe twice since time began. Demons who refused to return, enjoying the human thing a bit more than they should, acclimatizing to it. Poor bastards. Sucked all the way down to Level Nine with the boss himself, never having another chance to get out of that fucking horrible pit.
Despite popular belief, a demon’s leash was annoyingly short and their collar uncomfortably tight. Go against any of the big man’s orders? Eternal pain in hell, no chance of parole.
“Let’s see what you got, puppet,” Davyn said, focusing on the issue at hand. “Prove to me you have any kind of value, because I’m really starting to wonder.”
“I thought I was bait.”
He shrugged. “You’re also easily replaceable. There’ll never be a shortage of pretty girls with short brown hair and low IQs.”
“Fuck you.”
“Sorry. The only thing I do with humans is fuck with them.”
The hunter pulled at her shirt, popping the first couple of buttons and exposing a bra, some beautiful breasts, and a knife holster. She very carefully pulled the knife out and held it in front of her. When the blade caught the light, suddenly Davyn had a lot more respect for her. It wasn’t steel. It wasn’t even iron.
It was salt. Had to be homemade because you couldn’t buy shit like that off the shelf at Walmart. She’d whittled a salt block into a fucking knife. It wasn’t strong, but that was the brilliance of it—all she had to do was stab him. As soon as the blade broke off inside his body, he’d be in excruciating pain until he could get all of it out.
“You little devil,” he said in admiration. “Did you make that for me or for the other bastard?”
She answered with a tiny shrug of her shoulders, but her message was heard.
Davyn smiled. She confused him—a very tough thing to do. Moderately smart and highly ambitious, consumed by what she wanted and willing to do whatever it took to get it. Humans claimed to be willing, but they never were, stumbling over the first roadblock and making up some stupid excuse as to why they had to quit. This one was going up against two demons to get to a vampire. It was just delusional enough to actually work, and Davyn wanted to be there—to see her reach the goal or die trying.
So he wouldn’t kill her. Not yet. But they could still have fun, couldn’t they?
“What you waiting for, puppet? Pretend I’m him, the big, scary vampire who fucked you up.” He held his arms out, mocking her, prodding her. “What are you going to do to get yourself killed?”
They’d circled each other, her gaze tracking his movement, as well as their positions in the alley.
“They’re watching us,” she stage whispered.
“Who?” He hadn’t noticed any humans in the alley, but then, he’d been slightly distracted. “Where?”
She flicked her head towards the entrance to the alley, still lit up by fire. As soon as he turned his head to look, she jumped him. Or kicked him, rather, smart enough not to touch him with her hands before she knew how hot he was. Her foot landed in his gut, very close to—
“You little liar!” he shouted. Nice move.
Her other foot sliced upwards, connecting with his groin before she spun and pushed herself off him, doing a cartwheel, flip-floppy thing as he gripped his knees, head down, eyes closed, pain shooting.
“Son of a bitch,” he groaned through his teeth. “Would you please stop hitting me in the balls? I need them.”
“Doubt it.” At least she was breathing
Similar Books
