This is my dark fantasy novel about a demon trying to redeem her soul and the vengeful demon hunter pursuing her. Warning: the content is mature. Feedback is appreciated. I will post a chapter a week.
Also,the anthology Saints and Sinners is now available, featuring the short story prequel to Hunters, Harsh Mistress! A pirate captain sails his ship into Hell to rescue the woman he loves.
Previous chapters can be found on the Hunters page.
Compare the latest version with the first draft here!
“There’s our girl,” Derek said. “That black-haired bitch is ours tonight.”
He feasted on the view from the shadows behind the bouncer’s desk. The girl looked nothing like the fortyish blonde on the ID she flashed, but the bouncer’s eyes never left her tits to notice. Thigh-high boots boosted her height to maybe five three, and her leather jacket and red dress hugged curves that would cost a fortune to replicate. Dark lipstick and eye shadow were all that graced her porcelain skin.
Alone, underage and built like a porn star. She was gift-wrapped for them.
“Jesus,” Steve said. The linebacker’s voice rumbled like it came from the bottom of a well. “Look at her eyes. Purple? Red?”
Derek lifted his gaze. Her eyes burned in the desk light. “Burgundy.”
“Burgundy.” Steve chuckled. “That’s why we pay you the big bucks, you smoothie.”
Derek’s eyes slipped down to the simple wooden cross around her neck. It was too unadorned to play in to the clubbing look, and gave her an innocent air that made him ache for her even more.
Steve elbowed Derek in the side with enough force to make him gasp. “Sneaking in alone with that license? Girl’s got balls.”
“She’s stupid,” Derek corrected. He nodded at the bouncer’s back as the girl slipped through the curtain to the dance floor. “Pay the man and find me.”
Derek lost her for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the darkness inside. A tide of humanity churned against him. Oscillating carpets of laser light etched the darkness above in time with the music that throttled the air. A DJ spun from the front stage, silhouetted by a video wall playing hentai clips. Shadows obscured by smoke moved and watched and lusted in the overlooking balconies, flowing together and breaking apart in a passionate tempo. He could feel the seductive undertow seething through the crowd, taste it in the body heat surrounding him.
He caught sight of the girl on a stool at the bar in back. Derek weaved through the crowd toward her. He tried to catch another glimpse of her face in the mirrors behind the bar, but she sat so nothing caught her reflection. Didn’t matter. He’d see as much of her face as he wanted to before they left.
The bar’s underlighting glowed in a kaleidoscope through the film of spilled drinks on its glass surface. The two bartenders, one of each gender in bondage outfits, were both occupied with other customers. No one was near her.
“You look a little young to be in here,” Derek whispered in her ear.
She didn’t tense or turn to look, which disappointed him. A smile played over her lips as she pushed her stool along the bar rail to open up space. “I hear that all the time. What’s next? My stunning eyes?”
Derek slid in to the offered space. This close, his gaze devoured every luscious inch of her. “It’s no line, sweetie. I have to use a fake ID with my own picture.”
“Why do you need a fake license?”
He grinned and leaned closer with mock conspiracy. “I’m only twenty. You going to turn me in?”
“Hardly. I’m seventeen.”
Derek laughed. The girl didn’t even bother to lie.
“No seventeen year old has a body like you.”
“Whatever you say.” She leaned back in her stool. The flashing lights slid over her body. “Are you going to turn me in?”
“I’m going to buy you a drink.” He tugged the bartender’s spiked harness as he passed by. “Lemon drop?”
She grinned. “Only if you’re drinking the lemon drop.”
He couldn’t stop his laugh. She didn’t wear perfume, but her natural scent engulfed his brain. “Wanna be in the advanced class, huh? Two tequilas.” He took a quick glance over the crowd, spotting Steve’s bald head lurking over the dancers a few feet back.
He said, “My name’s Derek, by the way.”
“Tricia. Never met a Derek before.”
The bartender placed the drinks in front of Derek, with a small bowl of salt and slices of lime. Derek took Tricia’s glass by the rim, palm cupping its mouth, and scooted it in front of her. The girl didn’t blink as she took the glass.
“Cheers.” He clinked his glass against hers, then licked the back of his hand to dip in the salt.
Tricia threw her head back as if laughing and drained the shot in one swallow.
He sputtered. “Jesus. You don’t just shoot tequila to start off the night.”
“Then what’s the point?”
“Enjoy the experience. Lime, salt, like so. You keep drinking like that, the night will be over before you know it.”
“You keep drinking like that, someone else gets to get me drunk.”
“Not if I can help it, sweetie.” He nodded to the bartender and tapped in front of him. Moments later another tequila filled the empty space. He passed the glass to Tricia with the same motion as before. “Let’s go.”
“I thought this was about enjoying the experience. I’ve never done a body shot before.”
Derek’s brain stumbled. “You read my mind.” He slid the wooden cross away from the warm valley between her breasts and nestled his glass there. “You wear that for protection or something?”
“More than you know.” She leaned her head back and placed a slice of lime between her lips.
He ran his tongue along the graceful sweep of her neck. A sprinkle of salt, and he licked her again, savoring her taste and heat.
Her hands curled around his head and pushed him lower. He gripped her by the waist and buried his face in her chest, lingering as he took the glass in his lips. She smelled intoxicating. He had to force himself to lift his head, eyes fixed sidelong on her as he swallowed. A pleasant warmth slid down his throat.
She lowered her head, the lime a vibrant green half-moon in her teeth. Those incredible eyes stared into his, inviting, expectant. He tore the lime free with his teeth, spitting it to the floor, and without a conscious thought kissed her.
The sourness sparkled on her lips. Her mouth was small, blissful. Young. He pulled back. Her eyes were no longer expecting, just waiting.
The look pierced him. He realized in that moment she wasn’t a woman. She was a girl, not even out of high school. The most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen, but not old enough to know what she wanted. Not old enough to see what he was doing to her.
“What now, Derek?” She said. Her voice caressed his mind.
Fuck she was beautiful. She snuck in to the bar. She did tequila shots with him. She was just as culpable.
“Your turn,” he said, putting the lime between his teeth.
“I’m good.” Tricia grinned and slammed her tequila. A few glistening drops dribbled down her chin. She coughed.
He patted her on the back, his hand drifting up to massage her neck. “You took that like a pro.”
“This is the advanced class, remember?” Tricia nodded her head back at the video wall. “Only way to fit in at a bar that show shit like that.”
He turned to the wall and his breath caught. A red-skinned demon with two cocks fucked a huge-titted anime girl.
“You’re too young to watch this stuff,” he said. His heart throbbed.
“But old enough to do body shots.” Her words tumbled into each other. “This is tame compared to what I watch. And you’re tame compared to the guys I normally flirt with.”
Excitement flushed his cheeks. This girl was naïve and flirty and too dumb to notice what was happening. “We need more drinks,” he said.
“You need another one to catch up with me,” she slurred.
“I’ve already had three. You’re the one playing catch-up, Tricia.” He held up another finger to the bartender.
“Mmm? Don’t remember….”
She slipped a little from the stool. Derek darted forward, his hands sliding over her soft curves as he steadied her.
Steve swept in behind. Derek bit back the urge to tell his friend to fuck off, the bitch was his, as Steve’s hands wrapped the girl from behind. “Easy, babe,” he said.
“This is Steve,” Derek said through clenched teeth. “He’s a friend.”
“You came with a friend.” She turned her head to look at the mountainous man who caught her, a silly grin on her face. “Hi, Steve.”
“Tell you what,” Derek said, putting the last shot in her hand. “I’ve got a private room upstairs. How about we head up? It’ll make conversation easier.”
“No, we can stay down here,” Tricia mumbled. “We can talk okay.”
“Come on. It’ll be more comfortable.”
“We don’t need to-”
“We’re going upstairs.” Derek took her by the hand and guided the glass closer to her lips. “It’s too noisy down here.”
“Noisy down here.” She repeated. She emptied the shot and knocked it over as she put it back on the bar.
Steve’s granite brow crumbled into a frown. “All three?”
“Fuck. Why did you need all three?”
Because nothing will stop me from having her, Derek thought. He gave Steve a noncommittal shrug.
“I can walk,” Tricia protested, but both of them took her by the elbows and steered her toward the spiral staircase to the upper levels.
Her head lolled against Derek’s shoulder. The feathering of her heart against his palm, the gentle brush of her breath against his neck and the heat of her body overwhelmed the music and the crush of the crowd. Other hands, not just his and Steve’s, caressed her secretly and intimately as they moved through the crowd, and jealousy flooded him. Tricia was his.
He pushed open the heavy door of the private room. The music faded to a murmur, the press of dancers disappeared, the air cooled.
“Holy shit,” Gordon said, nasally and high pitched. He was at least a hundred pounds overweight. His Rolex and thick gold necklace flashed in the strobing lights, and his pale, moist flesh smelled like he bathed in Axe.
Derek glanced around the room. Plush red couches lined the walls. Darkened one-way windows overlooked the dance floor, and a monitor in the corner repeated the images playing on the video wall. The anime demon had grown dick tentacles. Liquor bottles and electric candles crowded the circular glass table in the center. Gordon had sprung for top-shelf booze as well as a premium suite this time.
Rage built in Derek at the other two, the bank rollers of their threesome. Gordon would ruin everything if any girl saw him beforehand, and Steve was a bag of hammers. Derek needed their trust funds to keep their conquests undetected. But he did the work to make everything happen. Why should he have to share a prize like Tricia with anyone else?
Gordon whistled. “She’s built like a brick shithouse.”
“This brick shithouse is in high school,” Steve growled.
“Holy shit,” Gordon said again.
“Didn’t know you had so many friends, Derek,” Tricia mumbled. “Sweet digs.”
“And he dosed her three times,” Steve continued.
“She’s going to OD,” Gordon said.
“Then shut up and get out of my way,” Derek growled. He pressed his lips against her neck, one hand pulling her head back by the hair. His hunger boiled at the taste, salty with sweat and rich with desire. The girl was practically oozing pheromones. His other hand cupped her breast, fingers teasing the nipple. “You are delicious, sweetie.”
Tricia moaned and fell against Derek, wrapping her arms around him. “So I get to fuck all of you, or are the others just watching?”
Sounds of laughter, buckles and movement filled the room. Derek didn’t care what the others were doing. His hands pulled up her skirt and touched smooth, naked flesh. Hot. Wet. Skin quivered and clenched at his touch.
“You feel ready,” he moaned.
She fumbled at his pants, struggled him free. “I’m always ready.”
Derek groaned. He picked her up and she pushed down on him, swallowing his cock with her wet, throbbing pussy no not yet he wanted her tits he wanted to play he holy fuck he had never felt anything as incredible as this. Passion and need consumed him. He stared into Tricia’s burgundy eyes, deep and rich and boring into his mind. They glowed like fire.
“Your eyes.” His words slurred between gasps through clenched teeth. Her eyes didn’t glow like fire. They were fire.
“I always hear I have stunning eyes,” she said.
Her eyes flared, their fire cracking across her skin as if her veins filled with lava. Her smooth, creamy skin darkened to an obsidian so black he could see the room reflected from its surface. The hands he ran through her dark hair now grasped strands the color and heat of the setting sun. Sharp claws tore furrows across his skin.
He heard gasps from the others in the room. Derek tried to pull back.
“What the fuck….” He stuttered. Skin pitch black and burning with internal flame. Agony from her grip. Eyes possessed and devouring and oh Christ spasms of ecstasy seized him whole. She wasn’t human. He didn’t care. He kept thrusting, unable to stop, not wanting to stop.
“Give your souls to me,” she whispered.
“Please,” he begged. He plunged deeper, every fiber of his body screaming to give in to the sensations that already felt like an endless orgasm, stronger and more exquisite with each second. He heard the others murmuring in unison with him, their clothes dropping away, their hands and mouths groping her demonic skin. Their eyes stared at her, consumed with the glowing crimson fires of mindless desire, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered but her.
His last breath was a scream of pure bliss.
(c) 2015 by William Reid Schmadeka, all rights reserved