Called: A Paranormal Romance (Midnight Huntress Book 1) Read online

  The owner of the bar follows Tyler over, and she nods at me. “Ryanne. It’s good to see you getting brought up to speed on this stuff. Tyler tells me you know?”

  “Some things. I have quite the learning curve and not a lot of time to get there. What can you tell us about incubi?”

  She laughs and downs one of the shots from the tray Tyler brought over. “Just that they’re not demons you want to mess with, but if you want to take one on, more power to you.” Molly smirks. “As far as I’ve seen, they don’t stay in one place for more than a week or two. If you’re going to catch this guy, you probably don’t have much of a window.”

  “Any idea where I might find him?” I pick up a shot glass and down it as easily as she downed hers. “Places these things like to hunt?”

  Molly gestures around. “You’re looking at it. Anywhere the patrons might not be missed if they go missing for a few days, anywhere there might be easy prey. They’re not the type to work too hard for a meal.”

  I shudder at the description of people as a meal for incubi.

  Then I freeze as Eranear walks through the door.

  Resistance

  ERANEAR

  I’d been hoping to see her again.

  The tall, buxom brunette with fire in her eyes and pouty lips begging to be kissed. Or fucked.

  She’s at the pool table again, with the same nerdy guy as before, but this time they’ve got a third in their party. I idly wonder if I can seduce all of them. Then I chuckle to myself. Of course, I can. It would be a fun party, especially since I have a feeling the brunette likes it rough.

  Rather than making my way straight for the trio, I circle around to the other side of the room, surreptitiously watching her from the corner of my eye. She’s already noticed me, but I want to know how obvious she is about keeping her eyes on me too.

  The more she watches, the easier she’ll be to lure into my bed.

  I settle at a corner table and lean back into the booth, waiting for a server to come by. Mortal food and drink doesn’t affect me, nor do I have much of a taste for it, but I’ve built up enough tolerance over the years to deal with eating and drinking.

  It’s easier than drawing unwanted attention.

  “What can I get…” The server stops as soon as I make eye contact, and as if on cue, his body shifts, moving a little closer, his eyes getting a little heavy.

  I can smell his arousal, building slow, and I immediately drop my gaze back to my lap, cursing under my breath.

  It’s getting worse.

  I know I can’t keep denying my urges. The thrall is only going to get worse, until I don’t have any choice, any more than whoever I end up fucking will.

  After centuries of orgies, of random sex, of people bending to my will and desires with the lure of being fucked into oblivion. I’m tired of it. It sounds like a fucking dream come true, but not when you’re alone even when you’re surrounded by groaning, throbbing bodies.

  I know I can’t just give it up, any more than a mortal could give up breathing, but that doesn’t mean I have to drain the people I fuck. I don’t have to leave them, barely hanging on, while I go out and troll for the next one.

  It means that I’m constantly on the verge of doing something that I’ll hate, but it’s better than actually doing it.

  “What can I get for you?”

  “The oldest scotch you have. And leave the bottle.” I pointedly keep my eyes diverted. It may be considered rude in human circles, but I can’t deal with the attention tonight.

  “I’ll be right back. If I can get you anything else, just let me know.” His hand lands on my thigh and squeezes.

  Fuck. I knew I shouldn’t have come out tonight.

  “I’m not interested. Go.” I shift away from him, and nearly end up motorboating someone else who’s come close.

  Drawn by my fucking incubus allure.

  “Hi. I’m Ryanne.” She smiles at me, extending her hand.

  I drag my eyes up, not quite meeting her gaze, as I shake her hand. “Eran.” Of course, it’s the brunette. I should never have come back to this bar. “No offense, but I’m not looking for company.”

  “That’s too bad. You look like you’ve got some interesting stories to tell.” She shrugs. “If you change your mind, I’ll be over by the pool tables.”

  I watch her walk away, her ass swaying with each step. She’s got curves in all the right places and doesn’t bow to the society’s ideas of what a woman needs to look like. She’s got her own style and her own confidence.

  It’s enough to make me instantly hard.

  Of course, lately it doesn’t take much at all to make my dick hard. I’ve been without a partner for too long, without someone to feed off of, and it’s getting to the point where I’m not going to have a choice anymore.

  The server’s reaction is proof positive that I need to take a lover. Probably tonight, but definitely by tomorrow.

  Getting up, I follow the brunette to the pool tables.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve actually pursued someone, even if it’s just to the extent of crossing a bar. I don’t get to chase very often, but something tells me she’d be worth it.

  By the time I get to her, the other two she’d been talking to have cleared out, gone off in different directions, and I’m glad for it. One-on-one is so much easier, and more effective.

  Of course, if I wanted to, I could easily turn the whole bar into my sex den, and even without participating, there would be enough customers in here that if they all started fucking, I could feed on that energy for hours.

  “Decided I was worth talking to, huh?” She looks up from where she’s bent over the pool table to line up a shot, her cleavage nearly spilling out of her top. “Grab a cue stick. Let’s play.”

  I’m tempted to move in behind her, put my hands on that lusciously full ass of hers, and grind against her until she’s panting, begging me to fuck her right here.

  Instead, I grab a stick and wait for her to break.

  “What brings you to Molly’s Place, Eran?” Just the way she says my name is a turn-on, all husky and slow. I wonder what she’d sound like screaming it.

  I shake off the thoughts, trying to focus on the game. Trying to focus on the here and now, not what my over-active libido wants.

  “Why does anyone come to a place like this? I wanted a quiet place where I could get a drink, somewhere that I wouldn’t be bothered too much.”

  She tilts her head at me, and I immediately drop my eyes to break contact. Fuck, how long did I hold her gaze?

  “You didn’t seem to mind the attention the other night.” She smirks as she sinks a couple of balls and moves around the table. “What changed tonight?”

  “You ever feel like no matter how hard you try, you just can’t fight your nature? Like you have to be something that you don’t want to be anymore?” I shift backwards, barely avoiding touching her as she brushes past. If I touch her, I’m pretty sure she’s going to end up naked on this pool table, public indecency laws be damned.

  I so shouldn’t have come out tonight.

  “If you don’t want to be something, why would you have to be?” She looks up at me, and practically freezes in place, as if she’s waiting for me to make eye contact.

  And damn it, I do.

  “It’s something I can’t give up. It’s part of who I am.” I sigh, waiting for her to throw herself at me, like all the others who meet my eye do when I’m this hungry.

  “There’s always a choice, Eran. No one’s fate is set in stone.” She pulls back the cue and sends the balls flying again, scattering across the table. Another drops into a pocket.

  And still, she keeps her distance.

  I blink, shocked. Is she…resisting my thrall? No one, in the centuries I’ve walked this Earth, has ever resisted my thrall, from the lowliest of men to the noblest of women. I have power over them all.

  Ryanne should be no exception, especially with as ramped up as my abilities are righ
t now.

  How, then, is she resisting me?

  I move in closer, giving in, just a little, to my own urges, as I stand behind her as she bends over, my hand gently brushing against her hip.

  Her body tenses. “I don’t know what sort of woman you think I am, Eran, but if you don’t get your hand off me, I’ll jam this cue stick somewhere you probably don’t want it.”

  She doesn’t move, doesn’t try to pull away, but still, she’s resisting.

  Gods, I want to know her better.

  And I want to know what it would take to get her out of these tight jeans. Thrall or not, she’s intriguing, and I bet she’d be a fun time.

  I step back, and she lines up another shot, focused more on the game than on me. It’s strange, not being the center of someone’s attention, but I like that she’s not an easy conquest. I like that she’d be a challenge.

  She sinks another ball, which normally I’d think would be cause for celebration. But her words don’t match.

  “Shit.” She stands up, and I follow her gaze to the doorway.

  New men just walked in, men she must recognize, even though they hardly look like they’re worth this goddess’s time.

  “Want me to hide you from them, Ryanne?” I smile softly at her as she moves around the table, seemingly looking for her next shot.

  But her eyes track the men walking in.

  I’m less concerned about the men, and more concerned about the fact that they’re armed. Not discreetly, like Ryanne is with the pistol tucked in the back of her jeans, but openly.

  One has a club.

  Another, a bow and arrow.

  And the third brandishes a sword.

  These men didn’t come for a drink and a good time.

  They’re clearly here to hurt, to maim.

  And if they come anywhere near me, they’ll find out quickly that this incubus isn’t just a lover. I’m a fighter too.

  Bar Brawl

  RYANNE

  Shit, shit, shit.

  I thought Billy and Max on the loose again was a bad time. But the trio who just walked into Molly’s Place make those two look like fluffy bunnies.

  Nick, Lonnie, and Jon—the self-proclaimed Three Musketeers of Mischief. They should be serving decades-long sentences for their crimes. And I highly doubt any of them would be up for parole on good behavior.

  I doubt any of them even know what good behavior looks like.

  There’s no way for me to discreetly signal at Tyler or Molly without alerting the trio to the fact that I’ve noticed them. In fact, I doubt there’s any way for me to even get out of here without a bloody battle. Especially not with the weaponry they’re carrying.

  “Eran, if you’re really what I think you are, what I’ve been told you are, do you think you can help distract them until I can get them disarmed and make this an even fight?” I hate giving up my cards, almost as much as I hate asking a skip to help me, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

  “What do you think I am, Ryanne?” His voice is low, like mine is, like he understands the severity of the situation, even if he doesn’t entirely know what’s going on. “What do you think I can do?”

  “I need you to seduce them. Put them under your thrall. Whatever. Make them go all googly-eyed over you, so that I can get those weapons out of their hands.”

  “What. Do. You. Think. I. Am?” His energy feels darker now, like he’s seething, just under the surface.

  Shit.

  I look around the room, hoping that Tyler or Molly will somehow know to look over here. When I don’t immediately make eye contact with either of them, I say grudgingly, “An incubus. I don’t know why you haven’t tried to use your thrall on me yet, but I’m asking you to help me out. To help out every person in this bar right now. If those three are allowed to keep hold of those weapons, we’re going to end up in a bloodbath. I don’t know if you’re the kind of demon who likes that sort of thing or not, but the mortals in here won’t. People are going to die.”

  His lips draw into a thin line. I’m just waiting for him to turn me down, to live up to every Hollywood portrayal of a demon I’ve ever seen.

  “How are you resisting me right now? If you know what I am, you know what I do, why are you so calm, so cavalier about the whole thing?”

  I shake my head at him. “Now, you want to talk about this? Really?”

  “Ryanne Atwood, you fucking cunt!”

  Great. Lonnie’s caught sight of me. Which means the other two have too.

  I hear the snarl before I fully register that it’s not human.

  God, if these guys are shifters too, I’m going to kill Tyler. And Gage. But mostly Tyler, for not telling me that I’ve been caging wild animals.

  Slowly, I turn to see what sort of monstrous beasts I have to face down now.

  At least this time, I’ve got my Hellcat.

  Okay, I wasn’t expecting this. Both Gage and Tyler are here, in animal form, standing between me and the men.

  I didn’t even notice Gage in the bar.

  Drawing my gun, I turn to Eran. “Are you going to help, or not? Because if you’re not, you might as well get the fuck out. If I’m still alive when all this is done, I’m putting you in cuffs.”

  “As much fun as that sounds, you won’t.” His eyes seem to glow a deep wine-red, and his features become more angular, as if his body is thinning out. “I’d never leave a woman who’s asked for my help.”

  With squared shoulders and a tight jaw, I watch as he moves toward the trio.

  Gage’s tail wraps around Eranear’s ankle for a brief moment, in what almost looks like a tender, affectionate touch, before Eranear keeps moving forward.

  “Get away from us, asshole. We don’t want to hurt anyone but her.” Nick growls out.

  At least his rage seems human. If they’re human, I can handle them.

  “How did you get out, boys? I figured you’d be put away for a long time.” I know I’m taunting them, but I don’t want any of the men standing between me and the trio of criminals to get hurt on my behalf.

  Jon spits out, “None of your damn business.” But his attention isn’t entirely on me anymore. His club slides down his shoulder, and he licks his lips as Eranear approaches him.

  “Answer the woman’s question.” Eranear’s voice sounds like it’s dripping sex, even from over here, as his long fingers brush over Jon’s chin. “Be a good boy, and I’ll give you a treat.”

  Fuck. If that’s what his thrall can do, I’m glad he didn’t turn it on me.

  “She let us out. Said it was our destiny to be here. To find you. She even told us where to find these weapons. Things that can hurt a creature like you.” Jon presses his cheek into Eranear’s palm like a cat begging for pets.

  “Good boy.” He turns to Nick. “Come give this one a kiss for being so good.”

  I watch as Nick’s sword clatters to the floor and he moves behind Lonnie to follow Eranear’s orders.

  Lonnie looks like he’s going to throw up.

  At least he hasn’t drawn his bow yet.

  Gage growls low and deep, his head low. The tip of his tail flicks back and forth just slightly, like he’s calibrating to pounce.

  Tyler looks like he’s ready for a fight too, with his hackles raised.

  But no one’s attacking.

  As if everyone in the bar except for me is waiting for Eranear’s commands.

  I step forward, my gun drawn. “Lonnie, drop the bow.”

  “Fuck that.” He raises it up, aiming straight at me. “I came to kill you, bitch, and I’m not going to fall for whatever weird shit you’re pulling, whatever hallucinogenic drugs are pulsing through here.” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to fight against Eranear’s thrall.

  The bow drops slightly.

  Come on, Eran. Get him to put it down, and we can take them all out.

  It’s a silent plea that I’m sure is going nowhere.

  “You really think you can hit me before I ca
n hit you, Lonnie? Last I checked, bullets fly faster than arrows.”

  “You don’t know these arrows, bitch.” He raises the bow again, and just as he pulls the string back, anchoring it near his ear, I fire.

  The arrow’s in the air, soaring toward me, even as the bullet pierces through Lonnie’s forehead.

  Blood splatter and brain matter go flying as I dive away from the projectile headed my way, but either I’m not as quick as I think I am, or there’s something supernatural about this arrow, because I swear it follows me.

  The pain as it rips into my shoulder is excruciating, like a bolt of lightning that’s been set on fire and is laced with shards of glass.

  I cry out as I fall to the ground and my arm goes limp against my side.

  Through table and chair legs, I watch as the wolf and the panther work in tandem, tearing at Jon and Nick, ripping them to pieces in such sync that it’s like they’ve fought together a hundred times before.

  Eran looks back at me, and I could swear that his expression is pained as he walks out of the front door.

  It takes me a minute to realize that I don’t feel right. It’s not just a matter of pain radiating from my shoulder. I’m woozy, and the room feels like it’s spinning.

  Fuck. Is the arrow drugged? Poisoned? Worse? Whoever this woman is, whoever keeps sending old skips after me, when I get out of this…I’m going to find her, and I’m going to kill her.

  The last thing I notice before passing out is a very naked Tyler scooping me up into his arms.

  The Hunter’s Arrow

  BRANDIS

  The incessant, hard pounding on my door can only mean one thing.

  The S.E.A. has come to find me.

  “I’m not home.”

  “The fuck you aren’t, Brandis. You can spread your bear piss all over this property, but it’s not going to stop me. Open the damn door.” It has to be that motherfucker, Gage.

  With a grumble, I get up off the couch and pull the door open. “What? I don’t work for you guys anymore. I’m out.” I snarl, not bothering to keep my bear under the surface.