Page 36 of Haunting the Hunter

He waves lazily at her before closing the door and walking away.

I look down at her as she pulls her knees to her chest, avoiding eye contact with me before speaking in a quiet voice.

“You’re the thing that’s been following me, my shadow.” She doesn’t meet my gaze.

“The one and only, baby.” I flash her a smile and sit on the ground in front of her. “I’ve been waiting for you to call me.”

“Are you here to steal my soul?” She speaks so quiet, human ears almost wouldn’t catch it.

“How the hell would I steal your soul?” I ask with humor in my tone.

“You’re a demon, aren’t you?” She finally looks at me. “Isn’t that what youdo?”

“You are adorable,” I say, looking down at her.

“What the hell is happening?” she asks, throwing her hands up.

“There she is,” I quip. “Let’s just say, I’m invested in the story.”

“Don’t dance around my question—I don’t speak cryptic.”

Gods, this fucking woman is amazing. I’ll spell it out.

“A powerful witch afraid of her own shadow hiding from a cult, a psychopathic brother hunting down each member accompanied by an interdimensional ghost—you can’t deny, it’s interesting.”

She looks at me like I’m stupid, confusion painted all over her pretty face.

“That doesn’t explain the things you have been doing.” She gulps. “The way you’ve been touching me…” Her face turns red.

I lean closer to her and meet her eyes. “How else am I supposed to get your attention?”

Her brows come together in a scowl. “What you did tonight was wrong.”

“Oh, darling, sometimes the most wrong things can be so right.” I trail my eyes over her like a caress, then cross my arms again, straightening. “Besides, Fucker had it coming.” And he did. Her brows furrow, so I continue. “He touched what is mine.”

After she bolted to the bathroom at the bar, I continued watching the scene play out. The guy slinked out the back door, and I decided to follow.

He stumbles, clutching his bleeding face and reeking of sweat and regret. He lit a cigarette, probably the last comfort he got tonight.

I watched him from the shadows, eyes narrowed. Then—with one step forward, the cigarette fizzled out between my fingers. The man startled, patting his pockets for a lighter. I let him find it. He flicked the flame to life.

I chuckled to myself. One of the many perks of my powers is choosing whether I’m seen or not. Gives me the ability to mess with fools like him. I sidled up beside him and brought my pointer finger and thumb up over the flame—snuffing it out.

He blinked, startled. “What the—” I tilted my head, just slightly. Ooo, this is going to be fun.

If only he could have seen my grin. I brought my lips to his ear, whispered, “You really thought you had a shot with her?” I laughed, voice soft and mocking at his drunk stupor.

His eyes narrowed. “Fuck off,” he slurred.

I stepped to the side—and then I was behind him as he spun to find me.

“You’re rude,” I murmured. “And you smell like rot.” My voice dropped to a low hum. “You don’t even belong in the same room, let alone deserve to breathe the same air, as her.”

His bravado died, and he took a shaky step back. “Show yourself, pussy!”

I chuckled. This stupid fuck wants to see me? I let just enough of myself slip through.

Not my whole face. Just the shadow. A glimmer of something too inhuman to process. Black smoke curled from the corners of my eyes, teeth just a little too sharp, a smile too inhuman.