Beg Me to Slay Read online

  “You’re kidding…” She rubbed her forehead, shaking her head. “Oh, God…you’re not.” She plopped back down on the edge of her bed, a crease in her brow.

  “I wish I were; believe me.” Gabe sat in the chair again, remembering all the people he’d lost along the way because fate had dubbed him a slayer. Life could have been so much different. Painful memories of finding his fiancée’s demon-ravaged body sank their claws into him. He shoved the thoughts aside before he allowed the pain to show on his face. There was no way to change the past.

  No one understood that better than he did.

  There had to be some way to make her believe. The sooner she realized demons were real, that he was really who he claimed, the safer she’d be. He had to kill the fucking demon before it found her.

  “I’ve got some data-entry projects to get done, and I’m too tired to contemplate any of this.” Tegan’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “You can sleep on the chair if it makes you feel better, but I’m warning you, I sleep with a knife under my pillow, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

  “Good.” He stared across the room, his gaze locked on hers. “Until the demon is dead, you should always be armed and ready.”

  Chapter Three

  Tegan woke with her dagger in hand. Her clock read 5:30 a.m. The sun would be up soon. She had been having the strangest dream about demon slayers.

  “No. Take me,” a gruff male voice muttered.

  She slid out of bed and stood up at the sound, looking around. Gabe was asleep in her chair. It wasn’t a dream after all.

  With the dagger resting on the foot of her bed, she made her way toward the La-Z-Boy where her new PI mumbled. He rolled over and settled into fitful sleep. All he wore was a pair of sweatpants. She worried her lower lip, her gaze sliding over his toned back. He wasn’t weighed down by extra bulk or hulking muscles. His build was fit and sleek like a runner, a hunter.

  In the dim light, she could see a tattoo across his shoulder blades. A shield of some kind covered in Celtic knots. Another tattoo of a thorny vine circled his biceps.

  And he had so many jagged scars. Slices, stabs, and a large burn—almost a brand of some sort—covered his back. How many times had he been attacked and then healed, just as his face and his elbow had last night?

  What if everything he’d told her was true?

  Her fingers traced the smooth skin along her collarbone as her eyes drifted closed. Her attacker’s face flashed in her mind, showing her again the way his lips pulled back to reveal a row of razor-sharp teeth. His eyes glowed yellow, pinning her under him as he lowered his head.

  Pain seared her from the inside out. She forced her eyes open. The crazy memories from that night couldn’t be real.

  Gabe sat up, startling her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah.” She hoped she hadn’t flinched. “You were having a nightmare…or something.”

  “Sorry. Happens sometimes.”

  “Nightmares?”

  He nodded, but his attention seemed to be wandering around the apartment. “They come with the job.” He finally relaxed a little and made eye contact. “Sorry I woke you.”

  She shrugged. “I’m a light sleeper these days.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and got up. “Mind if I use your shower?”

  “Nope. The bathroom’s right over there.”

  It was impossible not to watch him walk across the room to the bathroom. The muscles in his back, all the way down to his trim waist, rippled with power and strength. And even though the sweatpants were loose, it didn’t take much imagination to picture the toned ass they covered.

  He closed the door, breaking her out of the spell. Obviously she’d been without a man for way too long.

  But ever since the attack, the thought of allowing a guy to touch her in any way made her queasy.

  “Not going there,” she muttered and poked her head inside the fridge to search for something to feed her unexpected houseguest. Her socialite mother would be horrified if she ever found out the contents of her daughter’s kitchen consisted of a box of Frosted Flakes, milk two days past the “best by” date, a stick of butter, and a quarter of a loaf of bread.

  Instead of cooking, she opted for washing the plate and glass languishing in the sink. At least the kitchen would be clean. Then she made her bed and started on checking her e-mail.

  “What’s for breakfast?”

  Tegan gasped and turned, her breath catching in her throat when she saw him. Gabe was standing five feet from her, dripping wet, in nothing but a towel. Her gaze ate up all his exposed flesh before she could stop herself. When she reached his face, he cleared his throat.

  “Forgot my clothes out here.”

  “Oh, okay.” She made a beeline for the fridge, hoping to keep him from seeing her cheeks flush. “Looks like we’ll have to go out for breakfast.”

  “No problem.” He offered her a crooked grin, and a wet curl drooped onto his forehead. “I’ll add it to your bill.”

  She chuckled and rolled her eyes, but as he closed the bathroom door the smile lingered. And for the first time in years, it felt genuine.

  Her cell phone buzzed and “Mom” flashed on the screen. She answered and sat on the edge of the bed. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Tegan! I wanted to make sure you remembered the dinner party tonight.”

  Her shoulders tensed, smile fading. “I don’t think I’ll be able to make it.” She looked up when Gabe walked out of the bathroom. “Something came up.”

  The hurt came through loud and clear in her mother’s voice. “What will I tell everyone when they come to your birthday party and you aren’t here?”

  “My birthday was last week.”

  “You were the one who asked me to wait until this weekend to celebrate.”

  “I’m sorry.” Tegan sighed. “Look, I’ll try, okay? That’s the best I can do right now.”

  “We’re always here for you. All you need to do is ask…”

  “I know. Thanks.”

  “See you tonight…I hope.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  She set the phone on her bed and groaned.

  “Crazy ex-boyfriend?” Gabe pulled on his black boots.

  “Worse. My mother.”

  He shook his head. “Moms are the best. What’s wrong?”

  Tegan hesitated, surprised by his answer. “I forgot she was planning a birthday party for me tonight.”

  He stood up gesturing to his pants. “Good thing I brought my nice jeans.” He tucked his old clothes back in the duffel bag.

  Tegan frowned. “You aren’t invited.”

  “I thought we covered this last night.” His gaze locked on hers, no sign of a smile. “Until I catch that demon, I’m glued to you.”

  “It’s not like I’d be alone in a dark alley. I wasn’t planning on going, anyway. We need to stop this guy before he hurts someone else.”

  “And we will, but you’ve got to eat dinner anyway, so you might as well make your mom happy at the same time.” He slid a comb back through his wet hair. “We can check out the beach where you saw him and see if I can pick up any clues. Then by tonight you’ll be ready to eat with your folks.” His expression sobered. “You shouldn’t take them for granted.”

  “I’m not.” She bristled at his words. “I’ve just got a lot on my plate, and I’d like to keep them out of it.”

  “And we will.”

  “There is no we.” She picked out some clothes and turned toward him again. “I’ve taken care of myself just fine for the past four years. I think I can survive a party at my parents’ house without a bodyguard.”

  He pulled his wet hair back, his jaw clenched. “Tegan.” He made her name sound good even when he was annoyed with her. Hesitating, his shoulders relaxed and he blew out a breath. “I would like to come with you.”

  She bit back a smile. “Are you asking me to invite you?”

  “Do you always make things difficult?”

&nbs
p; “Probably.” She gripped her clothes closer to her chest. “Still want to come?”

  A playful sparkle flashed in his eyes. “Definitely.”

  She laughed, surprising herself. “That path leads down a dangerous road.”

  “How bad can it be?” He went into the kitchen area and found a glass, completely comfortable in her tiny apartment. Probably more comfortable than even she was these days, and certainly more comfortable than her parents.

  “Ever since the attack, my parents have been worried about me. If I show up with a guy, it’s possible they’ll spontaneously combust with hope thinking I’ve turned a corner and started dating again.”

  He poked his head around the fridge. “Nothing wrong with a little hope.”

  “This will be a ginormous amount of hope. And it’ll burst and mutate into worry when I tell them I hired you to find my attacker.”

  “Demon.”

  “It still sounds crazy to me when you say that.” She shook her head. There was no way…

  Gabe shrugged, pouring a glass of milk. “So we don’t tell them you hired me. It’s your business, not theirs.”

  “The milk’s spoiled.” He lifted the glass, inspecting the contents. Tegan headed for the bathroom. “You don’t get it. If we don’t tell them, then they’ll assume you’re my new boyfriend. My mother will gush. It could get ugly.”

  “I’ve faced hungry Slater demons in the sewers. I can handle a little mom gushing.”

  “Don’t you hear how crazy that sounds?”

  “Mom gushing?”

  Tegan sighed, shaking her head. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “Not saying the word ‘demon’ won’t make them not exist.” He poured the milk in the sink and walked to the window, staring at the parking lot below. “You may not want to face it yet, but the sooner you start taking it seriously, the safer you’ll be.”

  She watched his back, remembering the sight of the scars hidden underneath his shirt. This wasn’t a joke or a game, and deep down the truth taunted her. Her attacker’s eyes had changed color, glowed, and those teeth. A shudder shot through her. She hadn’t imagined it all… She reached up to touch her scar. Gabe was right. This was real, and she needed to face it.

  “If I start spouting off about demons I’ll end up in the mental hospital again.”

  He turned around. The set of his jaw made him look hardened and fierce, not like the charmer who came out of her bathroom in nothing but a towel. The dichotomy within him pulled at her even more than his body did.

  “I’m not suggesting you tell another soul about demons. I’m saying that between us, you need to recognize and accept what we’re up against. There’s no sugarcoating what’s out there.”

  She swallowed the last vestige of the “rational” voice in her head. “If a demon is really searching for me, then the last place I should be is a birthday party at my parents’.”

  One corner of his mouth softened as he gave her a nod of approval. “And I’d argue that if a demon is looking for you then life might be too short to hold off on family visits.”

  “You still think I should go.” She sighed.

  He went back into her kitchen area and rinsed out his glass in the sink. “I think we should investigate the beach outside the hotel today, and eat with your parents tonight.”

  “We should definitely check out the hotel, but I can handle the party on my own.” She walked to the bathroom and peered at him from around the door. “My mom will be thrilled to hear I’m coming to the party after all.” Pressing her lips together for a moment, she added, “Thanks, Gabe.”

  He tipped his head with a smile. “Just doing my job. And unless we find that demon today, you’re not going to the party alone.”

  His words were like a slap in the face with a reality towel. Of course he was doing his job. Duh. She’d been a schmuck for being moved that he wanted her to invite him to come along and protect her. “If we don’t find him, then you can wait in the car.”

  She closed the door, turned on the water, and rested her back against the wall. What was wrong with her? They weren’t playing house here. The guy, or demon, who attacked her was in San Diego. She’d hired Gabe to find him.

  Why did he have to make her smile? And why did he have to look so amazing in a towel? Ugh. After four years without a date or even a real friend, she was out of practice with boundaries. This was a business transaction, not a friendship. Or anything else. If she couldn’t keep that thought in her head this arrangement was never going to work.

  Stepping into the shower, she closed her eyes, moaning when the hot water rolled down her tense body. Gabe wasn’t being paid to pretend to be nice to her.

  …

  Gabe heard the water come on while he dried the glass and put it back in the cupboard. Her soft moan came right through the bathroom door, and his entire body buzzed with desire. He wanted to hold her, to feel her moan against his lips.

  Damn it. Now he couldn’t unhear it.

  As soon as this case was finished, he needed to get laid. Tegan Ashton was a client, not a potential date. Not that he really dated. One-night stands were more his thing. If demon slaying had taught him anything, it was that caring about anyone put that person in danger. Choosing not to care was his only defense.

  Adjusting himself in his jeans, he opened the window, hoping fresh air might help distance him from temptation. Or at least distract him from his thoughts about Tegan being so close by. Naked.

  Shaking his head, he pulled in a long, slow breath of the ocean air and frowned. He took another breath through his nose then grimaced. Sulfur, rotten eggs. Demons.

  Gabe slid his cell phone into his pocket, and grabbed his keys and his coat. He pulled a business card out and wrote on the back. “I’m at the car. Stay inside.”

  He hustled down the stairs and out the main entrance to her dojo. When he got to his car, he scanned the empty lot and opened the trunk. The inside of the Mustang’s trunk was outfitted with everything a slayer may need. He had wooden stakes, a scythe, a custom crossbow, and three different size battle-axes, and a katana rested diagonally in a special stand. The other side of the trunk had compartments holding decanters of holy water and daggers, and a spiked flail was clipped to the back panel right below the lock.

  Taking another whiff, he cast a wary glance at the door to Tegan’s dojo. This was definitely the scent of a lesser demon. The stench was too faint for anything higher ranking. The more powerful demons had a stench that made paper-pulp mills smell like fabric softener.

  With any luck he could find it and finish the fight before Tegan was done with her shower.

  But relying on luck was like jumping out of a plane without a parachute.

  He yanked out the crossbow, slipping the strap over his shoulder like an electric guitar. The midsize battle-axe came out next. He slid the handle between his belt and his jeans and reached up to close the trunk when a hissing sound came from behind. A Viri demon. It had to be.

  “Gabriel,” it whispered.

  “Only my mother gets to call me that.” Gabe wheeled around, drawing his battle-axe like a gunslinger’s pistol. The Viri demon lurched forward on two legs, his orange reptilian eyes glinting in the morning light. Although his skin appeared flesh-colored, scales covered his entire body. Viri demons had some chameleon abilities, but up close the disguise melted away. He’d kill the disgusting scaled thing, but he needed some intel first.

  The demon’s words lisped past thin lips. “My master searches for his mate.” He flicked out his black forked tongue as he sucked in a breath. His eyes rolled back before meeting Gabe’s gaze again. “You reek of her.”

  “You can’t possibly smell anything other than yourself.” He passed the handle of the battle-axe back and forth between his hands, keeping the demon focused on the weapon. “Who is this master you work for? Maybe I’ve seen his mate around.”

  He glanced at the empty doorway. Please let her see my note and stay inside.

&
nbsp; The demon stretched his neck up and out, elongating it like a snake while his head swooped back and forth, following the ax’s movements.

  “He knows you, slayer.” He hissed, exposing sharpened fangs dripping in demon saliva. “And he knows you have her.”

  “You’re full of shit.” Gabe lunged forward, burying the sharp edge of his battle-axe in the demon’s chest. He yanked it free, hoping to land another blow, but the demon staggered back, retreating. Green blood oozed through its shirt, and Gabe reached for his crossbow. The demon stared down at his wound, growled, and then charged with fangs bared. Gabe nailed him with two silver-pointed arrows in the torso, but they barely slowed the thing.

  Gabe launched his battle-axe next, sending it soaring end over end toward the oncoming demon. The hissing abomination shifted, and the battle-axe skimmed his side instead of splitting him down the middle.

  “Damn it.”

  The beast collided with Gabe, knocking him to the ground. Gabe grappled, getting his hands around the demon’s scaly neck and squeezing until his eyes bulged. The creature’s fangs bore down on him, inches from Gabe’s face. Viri venom would paralyze him long enough for the monster to grab Tegan.

  Not on his watch.

  Gabe focused on the teeth, and keeping them far from him. Now the stench of sulfur and rotten eggs was more than just a mere discomfort. It blew Gabe’s hair back and turned his stomach.

  Enough of this shit.

  Gabe released one hand from around the demon’s neck and snatched his crossbow from his shoulder, walloping the demon in the side of the head. The creature hissed and rocked back. Taking advantage of the brief shift in power, Gabe rolled the demon under him, punching him in the throat with his free hand.

  “Holy crap!”

  The battle paused, both Gabe and the demon looking over at the new player. Damn it.

  Tegan stood in the doorway in bare feet, jeans, and a tank top. She was pale and slack-jawed, her hair still wet from the shower. Gabe scrambled to stand, putting himself between her and the demon. He backed up toward Tegan, trying to figure out how to get her inside so he could focus on finishing this fight. Worrying about her was a distraction he couldn’t afford. He’d shove her inside and shut the door if he had to.