Seducing the Hunter - Vivi Anna

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where the chest is.”

      “Can’t or won’t?”

      She shrugged. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

      “Well, that’s the only help I need. The location. So if you won’t give it to me, then there’s nothing to talk about.”

      She stood and brushed the dirt off her black pants. “Fine. Send me back, then. I have laundry to do.”

      He looked at her, and she could see the hesitation on his face. He obviously hadn’t expected her to call his bluff. He should’ve known she would. She possessed all the same personality traits she had when she’d been wearing a human birthday suit. She was basically the same, except for a few physical changes.

      Sighing, he shook his head. “What’s it going to take?”

      “I’ll help you find the chest, but I want something in return.”

      “Of course you do,” he sneered.

      “Play nice or you can forget it. And when the Cabal opens the chest and uses the book, and your world goes to shit, don’t complain to me about it.” She pointed a finger at him. “Besides, you know as well as I do that it’s the nature of my...condition to make a bargain.”

      “What are your terms?”

      “I guide you to where the chest is, you get it, and in return I get to stay topside in a new body forever.”

      Quinn stood, his chair overturning from the suddenness of his movement. The banging of metal on cement echoed through the basement. “Absolutely not.”

      “Then send me back, because those are my terms and I won’t change them.”

      He shook his head. “Nope. That’s too easy.” He turned toward the stairs. “We’ll see how cooperative you are after a few more hours in that pentagram.” He mounted the stairs.

      She watched him leave. When he was at the top of the stairs he flicked off the light. The room plunged into darkness. Not a big deal for Daeva, though—she could see in the dark. But it was starting to get drafty. Right now she was almost missing the hot stifling air in hell.

      “You’re a jerk, Quinn Strom.”

      He slammed the door shut on her words.

       Chapter 6

      Quinn tried to keep himself busy. Tried to keep his mind occupied. But it was difficult with a demon in his basement. Especially one that smelled like cinnamon and looked like sex on a stick.

      She’d been right, her appearance did startle him. When he’d known her, she’d been a lithe blond with an athletic build and a pert little nose. Her name had been Rachel. The demon who had popped into the pentagram was a curvy redhead with stormy gray eyes. She looked very different from the woman he’d loved, but something about her was still the same. The fluid way she moved, the tilt of her head as she regarded him. If he had passed her on the street, he suspected he would’ve recognized her.

      The thought was completely unnerving. He didn’t want to recognize the woman from three years ago in the demon he’d just called. He wanted them to be two distinct entities, but deep down he knew that they weren’t. They were like two sides of one complicated coin. He supposed Daeva had always been a part of Rachel, however much he wanted to deny it.

      By the third hour, after straightening up everything the goblin had ruined, Quinn ended up in the kitchen to make dinner. He flung open the refrigerator and started pulling out various ingredients. He grabbed a pot and a pan, and tossed in this and that, frying and boiling, anything to occupy his thoughts. In the end, he had made spaghetti Bolognese. It had been one of Rachel’s favorite meals. And he’d made enough for two.

      “Damn it,” he mumbled under his breath.

      He stared at the food, unsure of exactly what to do. He could make himself a plate and put the rest in containers for leftovers. Or he could fix another plate and take it down to his captive. Demons didn’t derive any nutrition from food, but he knew they reveled in all mortal pleasures. Like food, and drink, and sex.

      Resigned, Quinn grabbed two plates from the cupboard and put spaghetti onto both. Picking up one plate, he got a fork and took it down to the basement.

      He flicked on the lights. As if weighted down with leaden feet, he descended the stairs. When he reached the bottom, he saw Daeva sitting cross-legged in the middle of the pentagram with her eyes closed. It looked as if she was meditating.

      “Oh, my, is that spaghetti Bolognese I smell?” Her eyelids slowly fluttered open.

      He gestured with the plate. “I wasn’t sure if you were hungry or not.”

      She studied him for a moment, then nodded. “I am.”

      Nearing the pentagram, he reached across the lines and handed her the food. She took it from him and set it in her lap. She picked up the fork, spun it in the noodles, then put it in her mouth. She grinned around the mouthful. When she was done chewing, she looked up at him.

      “Good Lord, that is so good.” She twirled her fork in it again. “I’ve instructed the goblins on how to prepare it properly, but they never get it right. It always tastes so sour. Must be the water in hell. Can’t seem to get that sulfur flavor out, no matter how long you boil it.”

      He watched her eat, a sense of pride and satisfaction filling his gut. He’d always loved that Rachel had enjoyed his cooking. There had been many nights when they’d spent hours in the kitchen together preparing a meal, talking, laughing, eating. The thought now made him sad. And angry. Angry that those memories were tarnished by her true existence. By Daeva’s existence.

      “Where’s yours?” she asked.

      “Upstairs.”

      “Didn’t want to eat with the demon?”

      “Something like that.”

      She shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She shoveled more of the spaghetti into her mouth.

      “I don’t want to play this game anymore.”

      She set her fork down and regarded him. “Then don’t.”

      “I can’t in good conscience give you what you’re asking for.”

      “Why not?”

      “I can’t let you possess someone, Daeva. Take over her life like that. You have no idea what I had to deal with after you left Rachel’s body.”

      “Did she die?” Something about asking that made her face pale. She actually looked extremely concerned.

      “No, she woke up and was hysterical. She had no idea what she was doing there or who I was.”

      “What did you do with her?”

      “I took her to her parents’ house and told them she fell and hit her head and didn’t remember me.” He rubbed at his face, hating to have to relive it. “They took her to the hospital and ran tests on her. I slowly removed myself from her life. Her parents hated me for it.”

      She eyed him intensely for a moment. He thought maybe she was going to apologize to him, but then she sighed, and leaned back onto her hands. “You can have the veto over the body I possess.”

      “In what way?”

      “When the time comes, after you have the chest in your hands, I will pick a body and if you disagree, you can veto me.”

      Quinn looked at her, mulling over her words, trying to find the catch, the loophole. There were always loopholes in demon deals. But in every scenario he conjured in his mind, he couldn’t find a way she could deceive him. Ultimately, in the end, he could stop her from possessing anyone. He just had to continually say no.

      “Agreed.”

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