Page 6 of My Demon Hunter (Hell Bent #2)

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DI NN ER A N D A DEMO N

T he doorbell rang at two minutes after seven.

“Crap, he’s here already! I have to go.”

“Okay, just don’t hyperventilate.”

Lily tried to laugh, but it was hard because she was doing just that. Her twin knew her too well.

“And remember to check in every hour or I’ll show up, guns blazing, to save you.”

Iris had scolded her for inviting a stranger over to her house for their first date instead of choosing a public location. Her paranoid sister had insisted on waiting in the park at the end of the block and had given Lily strict instructions to text her immediately if anything seemed off.

While Lily had agreed that it would have been wiser to plan a public date, she was far too awkward to suggest a change in venue after Mist had already confirmed. So she agreed to Iris’s protective measures.

At the same time, Lily was certain she had nothing to fear from Mist. Her instincts told her he was safe. Well, actually, her instincts told her he was very dangerous, but not to her. Somehow, she just knew he would never hurt her.

Besides, he’d known where she lived for a week. If he’d had nefarious intent, he could have acted on it already—particularly the moment when he’d shown up at her house and caught her in her nightdress.

“Holster your weapons,” she teased her twin. “I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“You’d better. If anything seems off—”

“I’ll let you know immediately. Yes, I know. I’m not a child, Iris. In fact, I’m only several minutes younger than you.”

Iris’s protectiveness, while often overbearing, was her way of expressing affection, since she wasn’t usually comfortable with it in other forms. The things they’d been through had changed them both, and Lily couldn’t fault her for that.

“All right, all right,” Iris said. “I just want you to be careful.”

“I know, and I will be. Now, I have to go!”

Lily hung up, heart in her throat as she hurried down the hall to answer the door. She paused briefly in front of the mirror on the way to fiddle with her hair and check her teeth for the tenth time. She’d taken a risk and worn a low-cut summer dress that showed a little extra cleavage and fell to just above her knees. It was one of her new designs and she was proud of it.

Stomach somersaulting, she soldiered on from the mirror, flipped the lock, and opened the door.

Mist stood outside with a bottle of wine in his hand. He was twice as gorgeous as she remembered, which should have been impossible because every time she saw him, she swore he got better looking.

He wore a black T-shirt that accentuated his eyes and matched his messy hair, the upper half tamed in an unruly knot while the lower fell onto his shoulders. It also drew attention to the intricate geometric tattoo collaring his neck, standing out against his deeply tanned skin.

“Hi,” she said, blushing down to her toes just looking at him.

And feeling him look at her. Because he was really looking.

He was doing the same shameless, intense staring thing he’d done last night, positively burning her up with his intensity. It half made her want to rip her clothes off and parade around naked, half made her want to do the melt-through-the-floor thing again.

“Hello.” His deep voice sent shivers down her spine.

She smoothed her hands down her dress.

“I was told it was customary to bring an offering.” He held up the wine, and her eyes got momentarily stuck on the veins tracing his forearm.

She laughed despite her nervousness. He had such a strange way of speaking. “Thank you. Please come in.” Taking the proffered bottle, she stepped back and gestured for him to enter.

The minute he did, it felt like her flat shrank by half. The already crowded entrance was like a broom closet, and the way he towered over her made it seem like the ceiling was coming down on their heads.

She moved into the hallway, but it didn’t help. A tiny voice whispered that Iris was right, and she shouldn’t have invited him over on their first date. It was too intimate, and her flat was too small and not impressive at all, and besides, nothing magical or romantic ever happened to her, so why would she think—

Shut up. She shoved Negative Lily back into her box and slammed the lid. It was the voice of her insecurities, and she refused to let it ruin her enjoyment of tonight. She was going to be Confident Lily and no one else.

As Mist stepped into the hall behind her and she turned to face him, her eyes traveled by chance to the wall above the door. Perhaps it was a fluke, or perhaps they were led there by the sudden change she may have been imagining.

A year ago, when she’d first moved into this apartment, Iris had drawn some type of protection ward above the front exit, a sigil about a foot in diameter. Lily had scoffed, writing it off as her twin being her usual paranoid self, and ignored it. When it came to reminders of her heritage, she was good at ignoring things.

She frowned at the ward now.

It was dark bloodred. But she could have sworn it had always been black.

With a shrug, she looked away and met Mist’s gaze. The directness of his stare would have been extremely unnerving if she wasn’t so attracted to him. He didn’t appear to have noticed the ward, thankfully.

She lifted the wine bottle and smiled. “Let me just put this in the kitchen, and then I’ll give you a tour. Dinner’s ready, so we can eat whenever.”

In the kitchen, she shot a quick text to Iris. He’s here and everything’s fine. You don’t have to wait around if you don’t want to.

After deliberating for a moment, she typed a second text on a whim. Btw, what’s that ward you put above my door supposed to do?

Tucking her phone in her pocket—all her dresses had them, and it was one of their best-selling features—she hurried back down the hall to find Mist already exploring the front room.

The long, open space was bisected by an archway. The front half contained her living room—a sofa, a big window, a bookshelf, and a collection of plants. The back half contained her workspace—her sewing machine, mannequins, rolls of fabric, and a desk and computer where she drew her designs and managed her online store.

It was a mess. She was actually quite a tidy worker and made sure to sweep up the fabric scraps and stray threads every time she finished working. But there was simply no way to tidy the stacks of fabric and unfinished projects.

“This is the living room,” she said unnecessarily as Mist stepped closer to peer at the bookshelf.

She felt her cheeks heat as his gaze traveled over her extensive collection of romance novels and all the witch-related texts from Iris on her many futile quests to get Lily to embrace her heritage. There were biographies of famous blood-borns, grimoires of common sigils, and guidebooks of medicinal herbs and their uses. Lily had barely glanced at any of them. The romance novels, on the other hand, were well used.

Mist frowned at the shelf, spending an extra moment perusing the witchy texts, but said nothing, thankfully.

“And my workspace is back there,” she said, stepping back toward the hallway and hoping he would follow and forget to question her about her book collection.

Her distraction attempt was a success. Straightening, he bypassed the shelf and stalked into her workspace. There, he looked carefully around, studying each item in the room with an unreadable expression on his face.

She squirmed uncomfortably, not sure what to make of his thorough perusal. Through a stranger’s eyes, she saw the table covered in uncut fabric and the half-finished pieces pinned to the mannequins, and she wished she’d done a more thorough job of tidying up.

Mist had frozen in front of the row of mannequins, his head cocked to one side. She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned, stalked over to the sewing machine, bent down, and sniffed it.

He actually sniffed it. Like an animal. A tingle of wariness rose, and she recognized it as the same gut feeling she’d had when she first saw him in the depanneur. There was something so... otherworldly about him. Inhuman, almost.

But that was just silly.

He straightened and looked back at her. “What is this device?”

Her phone buzzed in her pocket at that moment, but she ignored it. “It’s a sewing machine.” How could he not know that?

With narrowed eyes, he glanced at the row of mannequins. “Why do you have statues of headless females?”

A startled laugh burst from her. “They’re mannequins. I use them for designing clothes. Haven’t you seen them in store windows before?”

His expression cleared as comprehension dawned. “I have. I understand. You’re a clothing maker.”

“Exactly.” She was still surprised he hadn’t put it together with one look at the room. “That’s what the sewing machine is for. And all the fabric.” She was half teasing him; it seemed so obvious, it hardly warranted explanation.

Yet apparently, it did. “You’re an artist,” he said, and if she wasn’t very much mistaken, he looked almost reverent.

“Well, yes, I guess you could say that.”

“What sort of clothing items do you make?”

“I design clothes for plus-size women. I always had a hard time finding stuff I liked in my size, so I decided to make it myself.”

His eyes trailed down her body, and the heated look in them made her cheeks burn and her stomach flutter. “I like your size very much.” Her heart skipped a beat at his growly voice.

“Oh, um. Thank you.” Her cheeks were burning again.

Negative Lily was trying to claw her way back out of the box to whisper hateful things. He might say that now, but just you wait. Give him a couple months, and he’ll start telling you to go on a diet like the last guy you dated.

Mist was still staring at her, but her attraction and arousal were being diminished by the stupid self-conscious whispers, and she needed a moment to collect herself.

“I’ll go pour us some wine!” She spun around and fled the room.

Her phone buzzed again when she reached the kitchen, so she pulled it out and read the texts from Iris. It’s a signal ward that warns you if you’re in the presence of supernatural beings. Why are you asking that right now?

The second message told her she’d better not delay replying any longer. Did something happen? Are you okay? Answer me right now or I’m coming over.

That tiny whisper of wariness flared again, but she pushed it away. Instead, she rolled her eyes at Iris’s paranoia and fired back, No, don’t come! I asked because the ward is dark red, but I thought it was black before. I’m obviously imagining things. Please don’t panic because everything is fine. Gotta go!

Deciding she was done catering to her sister’s overprotectiveness, she put her phone on silent and tossed it on the counter. Then, she opened the cupboard with the glasses and rose onto her tiptoes to reach for the top shelf—

She froze, feeling a presence behind her.

Mist. She hadn’t heard him move. She couldn’t even hear him breathing, and yet there was no question that he was there.

Her heart slammed against her ribcage as she slowly lowered to her flat feet, quest for wine glasses forgotten.

“You scared me,” she whispered without turning around.

She felt him step up behind her. They didn’t touch, yet she knew that if she were to shift slightly back, their bodies would press together. Rough fingertips swept the hair off one side of her neck, and she nearly fainted.

“You should never run from me.”

His voice was a low murmur, yet it never lost its husky growl. It came from right behind her ear. The hairs on the back of her neck and arms stood up.

“It is difficult to fight my instincts with you,” he said.

“W-what instincts?” Her breathing was uneven, and her eyelids fluttered.

“To hunt.” His fingertips brushed her hair back again. “To capture and subdue.”

She swallowed. She felt his warm breath against her skin moments before he pressed his nose to her neck. This time, she could hear the deep inhale he took.

He was smelling her.

It was animalistic, inhuman, bizarre, and yet... the muscles in her lower abdomen clenched with a sudden wave of arousal.

“I find your scent... intoxicating.”

Her hands shot out, and she gripped the edge of the counter and squeezed to keep from falling over. Oh god, this was complete madness, but she wanted him to kiss her. She wanted to spin around and press against him and be kissed senseless.

And why shouldn’t she? A sexy, slightly feral man was in her kitchen sniffing her and telling her she was “intoxicating.” She was not foolish enough to ruin a moment like this.

Gathering her courage, she started to turn...

Only for him to fix his teeth on the exposed skin of her neck and growl. Growl.

He only touched her there, where his canines dug into her tender skin. She froze, understanding it was a warning for her not to run. What human man did stuff like that? Certainly not one she’d ever heard of. If another man had done this to her, she would have laughed in his face. Or slapped him. But something about Mist was so very different from any other man. For him, it seemed instinctive.

His strangeness didn’t curb her desire in the least. Rather, it inflamed it.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered. “Promise.”

The teeth lifted from her skin. Intuitively, she sensed he was making a concession, and she wanted to prove it was the right choice. That makes no bloody sense, Lily.

I don’t care in the least , she told herself.

Still holding on to that courage, she turned until she was facing him.

She craned her head up to look at him, and her heart skipped a beat. His eyes. They were definitely otherworldly, the amber glow just a little too bright. In fact, all of him was otherworldly. The tilt of his head, his fluid movements that belied his impressive size...

As if to prove her point, his nostrils flared as he drew in another breath, and she knew he was smelling her again. And judging by the heat in his gaze, he still found her intoxicating.

She swayed into him, thoroughly seduced by his strangeness. At the first brush of her breasts against his hard body, the breath gusted out of her, and she heard him growl again.

For the first time, she began to wonder just what sort of man she had invited into her home. And whether he was a man at all, or something else entirely.

Right now, she didn’t particularly care what he was. Perhaps she would later, when she returned to her senses, but for now those seemed very far away indeed. She craned her head back, and her heart pounded as he stooped to her level.

He was so gorgeous it took her breath away, and he was going to kiss her. Somewhere in her head, there was a version of herself running in circles, ringing bells and shouting into a loudspeaker, He’s going to kiss me, he’s going to kiss me, he’s going to kiss—

And then he did. Their lips brushed briefly, and her erratic thoughts ground to a halt. It wasn’t quite a kiss—more like a caress. It made her head spin, but she definitely wanted a proper kiss. She wanted to be snogged within an inch of her life.

She pressed a little closer, tempting him to take what she was offering, and that deep growl rumbled in his chest again. She couldn’t breathe and was lightheaded from an overintake of oxygen at the same time.

When he leaned down to caress her a second time, she pushed into the kiss until their lips pressed fully together. His were surprisingly soft, full and warm and so indescribably delectable. Time had frozen for her to experience every little nuance of this perfect moment. Just for a moment, he kissed her back, tilting his head to fit them better together.

But then he pulled back.

“Your taste...” His gaze flicked between her eyes and mouth several times. He looked hungry . There was no other way to describe it. “I want more.”

“Kiss me again.” Was that her voice? Was she the bold, sensual woman who’d just said that out loud?

A wild look came into his eyes—which suddenly seemed more yellow than amber and were even brighter than they’d been before—and he leaned down and captured her lips again. This time there was no softness or hesitation. This time felt like a claim. Long fingers threaded into her hair, the tips digging into her scalp.

The sharp tips. Almost like... claws?

Didn’t matter. She was lost to the kiss, to the feel of his big body surrounding her and the dark, spicy scent of him. Yes, his scent. Maybe he was making her feral too, because suddenly, she understood the urge to bury her nose in his neck and take a whiff.

He stepped into her, and she stumbled back until she hit the counter. He pressed her into it, stooping down to kiss her deeper, angling her head so he could better reach her lips.

Her neck strained, but she had nowhere to escape with his grip so tight on her hair. She didn’t want to escape anyway. His hold demanded her surrender, and she gave it to him readily.

He broke the kiss again, and she sucked in a desperate gasp, head spinning, her gaze still locked on his mouth, which she wanted pressed against hers again immediately.

“I wanted to do this from the moment I saw you,” he said in a low growl.

Any other time she might have taken those words and replayed them over and over with increasing delight. As it was, right now her brain wasn’t quite functioning properly. She was still staring at his mouth, and the only word she could seem to formulate was, “Yes.” Panted and gasped and entirely too wanton.

He apparently enjoyed it, because his eyes darkened and he granted her unspoken wish, kissing her again. This time, their lips parted, and his tongue flicked into her mouth.

She sucked in a breath. The sensation shot straight between her legs, and her hands reached up to grip his delectably firm biceps lest she topple over right then. He flicked his tongue again, and this time, she was bold enough to meet it with her own. They brushed together. More sensation. Hot and bright and centralized between her trembling thighs.

He growled again.

God, that sound. It would be her undoing. Boldness increasing, she slid her hands up to his firm, sculpted shoulders and then wrapped her arms as far around his neck as she could reach. She tightened her grip, hauling him down to her level as their tongues began a luscious dance between their fused lips.

She hadn’t breathed in far too long, but right now, she didn’t need oxygen. She needed his tongue in her mouth, and she would rather faint than relinquish it.

He pressed harder into her, until her spine dug somewhat painfully into the counter, but she didn’t mind in the least. The angle was somewhat awkward due to their height difference, and he seemed to understand this. His big hands slid down the curve of her waist, and then he boldly palmed her ass.

She moaned just as he hefted her, lifting her effortlessly and setting her on the counter. Apparently, things were escalating. She was fully on board with this, so she wrapped her thighs around his hips and tugged him into her.

Their bodies collided, which meant she felt the long, hard bulge in his pants right between her legs. She nearly fainted. No, she nearly had an orgasm. Both, perhaps. A fainting orgasm.

He was growling again, and she threw her head back as his mouth traveled down her throat, licking, sucking, biting. Biting. He definitely liked to bite, fixing his teeth around her soft neck and growling against her skin. It was positively feral and by far the sexiest thing that had ever happened to her.

She wanted him to bite her breasts. She wanted him to leave marks all over her. She wanted him to tear her dress off and throw her down on the ground and take her right there and then.

Screw dinner. Screw exchanging pleasantries and taking it slow and playing it safe. She wanted to be claimed like an earthy goddess on the forest floor beneath the full moon in the most wild, animalistic way possible.

His teeth fixed around the top of her shoulder while his palms slid up her bare thighs under her dress, and she moaned at his touch on her skin. Her own hands had slid inside the neck of his T-shirt, reaching as far down as she could to dig her nails into the muscles of his back.

His hips were still pressed into hers, and she rolled her own, far past caring if she was being too forward or presumptuous. Judging by the deep groan that rumbled out of him, he did not think so in the least.

His hands were on her ass now, inside her dress, and he pulled her to him, pressing so hard into her, it sent shockwaves of heat to her blooming core. She rolled her hips again, suddenly certain that she might actually be able to orgasm like this.

“Mist,” she moaned as his hungry mouth consumed the skin just below her right ear.

He growled at the sound of his name and lifted his head, seeking her mouth. They clashed together again, and she rolled her hips with abandon while their tongues tangled.

Again: the sexiest thing to ever happen to her.

“Lily,” he groaned, and his deep, breathless gasp made her moan again. “You are mi—”

He broke off suddenly.

His head jerked up, turning sharply to one side, and he appeared to be staring down the hallway. His entire demeanor changed in a split second. All that intensity that had been focused on her was suddenly fixed at whatever he was looking at. His grip on her tightened, all but wrapping her in his embrace.

“Someone is here,” he growled in a low, deadly tone.

She clutched at his strong shoulders, her head spinning from the pleasure and the sudden shift in the atmosphere. “I don’t hear anything.”

“I smell them.” He pulled her even closer, like he was shielding her from some perceived threat.

He smelled them? Surely his sense of smell wasn’t that good. “I don’t think there’s—”

Banging sounded on the front door.

She glanced sharply up at Mist. Another growl rumbled in his chest, this one scary instead of seductive. How had he known that? And who was knocking—?

“It’s me! Open up!” Iris’s muffled voice faintly carried down the hall.

No. No way. She closed her eyes and groaned. “It’s my sister.” A sister who was about to get yelled at.

Some of the tension bled from Mist’s body, but not all. “Your blood relation is here?”

“Yes, and I’m going to kill her.” She’d told Iris not to bother her again, and she knew it hadn’t been an hour since her last text, so she couldn’t use that as an excuse either. “Let me just go deal with her, and then I’ll be right back.”

Instead of releasing her, however, he seemed to freeze as if at war with himself. His grip on her tightened again, and he seemed to be trying to shield her from the outside world by covering her completely with his own body.

Was this about his “instincts” again? Could he not let her go because it would feel like she was running and trigger his need to chase her?

She ought to have laughed at such an absurd notion, but instead, she felt the need to reassure him.

“I’ll be right back,” she repeated softly. “I promise.”

She looked up into his narrowed eyes, seeing the conflict there. Seeking to appease him, she relaxed every muscle in her body so he would know she had no intention of trying to escape his hold. Having her pliant in his arms seemed to lessen his tension, and after a long moment, he finally released her.

She smiled, pleased with his acquiescence even though it made no damn sense. None of this did. He wasn’t some alpha wolf in a mating ritual. He was just a man, and human men didn’t have feral instincts. The idea was ludicrous.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling, and she wanted him to trust her. Stepping over to the table she’d set for dinner, she tugged one of the lilies out of the bouquet in the center.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, holding out the blossom to him. A token of her promise.

His expression was intense as he accepted her gift. He stared down at the flower. And then his fingers wrapped around the stem, and he held it to his chest possessively. Much like he had done with her moments ago.

She had no idea what she was doing, why he was acting the way he was, or why it was so important to her that he didn’t misunderstand her, but none of that mattered. She waited until she found what she was looking for in his gaze—a look of acceptance instead of distrust—and then hurried down the hall to answer the door.