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Releasing the Hunter. Vivi AnnaЧитать онлайн книгу.

Releasing the Hunter - Vivi  Anna


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and so solid, that he set off her amulet into overdrive, she could’ve continued the chase down the alley and out onto the street. The demon hadn’t had that much of a head start. Sure, he was quick, but so was she.

      Ronan smirked. “You would’ve lost him anyway. He’s way too fast even for you.”

      She glared at him, hoping he could see it even in the dim of the trunk. “You’re a mind reader?”

      He shrugged. “Don’t have to be with you. Your cold stare of death says it all. You’re used to blaming others for screw ups.”

      “You did screw me up,” she snarled. “I would’ve had him if I hadn’t run into you.”

      “Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

      “What were you doing in that alley anyway?”

      He broke their glaring match and looked out the side window. “None of your business.”

      “Look, bad blood, I don’t like the way—”

      He slapped a hand over her mouth. “Shut up for a second.”

      She was about to rip his hand away when she sensed the same thing he had.

      The demon was nearby. She could feel it in the air. Like a horrific dream, like all the happiness in the world had been sucked out of the air. It was a cold clammy feeling on her skin. She shivered in response.

      She nodded, and Ronan took his hand away. He pointed to his eyes, then to the house.

      Ivy peered through the windshield to the small bungalow. No lights had come on, but she thought she saw movement at one of the darkened windows.

      She leaned toward Ronan and whispered, “Is he in the house?”

      He nodded without taking his gaze off the house.

      “You take the back. I’ll go in the front.” She didn’t wait for his reply before she quietly opened the door and slid out of the truck. She carefully closed the door but didn’t click it shut. Demons possessed superior hearing.

      She came around the front just as Ronan got out of the vehicle. They met at the front bumper.

      “Don’t kill him. I need to talk to him first,” she told him.

      He just nodded.

      Ivy took out her lock-picking kit and headed toward the front door while Ronan crossed the lawn, passed through the side gate and headed around to the back of the house. She stepped up onto the stoop, opened the screen door and tried the knob. It was surprisingly unlocked.

      Either the demon had been careless or this was a trap. Ivy went with trap. In her mind, it was always a trap. Nothing was this easy. There was always a catch or two.

      She unsheathed one of her silver blades from her back harness, then as quietly as she could, she turned the knob and opened the door. Thankfully the hinges didn’t squeak, but she knew it didn’t matter. The demon could probably hear her breathing.

      It was completely dark inside. She waited a moment just past the threshold for her eyes to adjust. She’d spent plenty of time in darkness so she had better-than-average sight compared to most people. When she could make out the shapes of furniture and other items scattered around the main living room, Ivy stepped forward.

      There were no noises in the house. Except for the ticking of a clock nearby and the hum of the furnace, she couldn’t discern anything that indicated anyone was at home. But she sensed it. A creepy sensation of foreboding crawled over her skin and she had to suppress the urge to shiver. Someone was here.

      As she moved across the room, she had to remind herself that Ronan could also be in the house. Maybe that was who she was sensing. But she had to admit she didn’t get a creepy vibe from him. It was another kind of vibe that she didn’t want to consider right now.

      She moved into the kitchen, and that’s when she caught sight of Ronan. He was coming out from the back hall. He lifted his hand in greeting to her. Or to stop her from slicing off a piece of him. She loosened her grip around the hilt of her blade as he came along her side.

      “Anything?” he whispered.

      She shook her head. “Something’s here, though.”

      “Yeah, I get that, too.” He lifted his chin and sniffed the air. “I can smell decomp.”

      She peered at him curiously.

      “There’s at least one dead body in this house. One day dead, maybe.”

      Ivy swung around and searched the shadows of the kitchen. They were either dealing with Sallos’s latest kill or his latest creation. She hoped it was the former because if it was the latter, they could be in for a world of hurt.

      Revenants were really hard to kill.

      They were the undead given life by a demon’s black-magic spell. Unlike the zombie lore floating around, these creatures weren’t shambling, unintelligent bodies. They possessed speed, tenacity and an irritating lust to kill.

      The only way to end them was to cut off their heads and stuff valerian root into their necks. Ivy had a big knife, so that was taken care of, but she didn’t have any valerian on her.

      “I need to go to the truck.”

      Even in the dark, she could see Ronan frown. “Are you joking? We’re in the middle of something here.”

      “Watch my back.” She moved out of the kitchen before he could protest further. But she could feel him behind her doing as she asked.

      She was halfway across the living room when she felt a stir in the stagnant air to her left. She turned that way just as the revenant sprang at her from beside the sofa. What she had erroneously mistaken for three lumpy throw pillows had been a reanimated corpse lying in wait.

      It latched onto her left arm with its clawlike fingers and carried her backwards. With its substantial weight behind it—Sallos had killed and resurrected a Goliath—it took them both to the ground. But before it could rip a chunk out of her shoulder with its jagged teeth, Ronan was there kicking it in the head.

      The force of Ronan’s kick sent it reeling off her and onto its back. Ivy scrambled to her feet but not before the revenant grabbed onto her right leg, trying to dig its fingers into her flesh.

      Thank God for the thickness of her jeans, she thought. Never before had she wanted to plant a kiss on Levi Strauss more than she wanted to now.

      As she shook her leg to get it off, Ronan shot it in the back. It instantly released her. The blast of his gun echoed around the room.

      “That’s not going to kill it,” she shouted over the ringing in her ears.

      “I know, but it got it off you, didn’t it?”

      She didn’t grace him with a response, but turned and prepared for the revenant’s next attack. They never stayed down long. It was back up on its feet in a flash and rushing forward.

      Ivy unsheathed a second knife and, using defensive holds, she crisscrossed her arms and sliced deep into the revenant’s gut. It grunted, stumbled backward, and then looked down as its insides spilled onto the rug. She had to bite down on her lip to stop from retching.

      “That’ll keep it busy for a few minutes,” Ronan offered as he studied the revenant’s guts on the ground.

      “I need to get the valerian from the truck.”

      “Go. I’ve got this covered.”

      Ivy sidestepped around the confused revenant and rushed out the front door. She ran down the lawn and to the truck. Her bag of herbs and roots was behind the cab seat. She unlocked the truck and rummaged around for her bag. She found it, opened it and grabbed a small plastic bag of the herb. Stuffing it into her pocket, she ran back to the house.

      When she walked into the house, the revenant was in a few


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