Bad Company

Description

Vexa has been hunting Hell’s fugitives for more than three centuries, and she’s very good at her job. Then one annoying lesser demon takes a human hostage—and Professor Elias Kane responds to having a knife at his throat by critiquing the weapon’s historical origins. He’s brilliant, infuriating, inexplicably attractive…and, minutes after Vexa saves his life, Hell orders her to deliver him alive.

Unfortunately, Elias has something Hell wants, Vexa is carrying a secret she never knew existed, and touching each other awakens something neither of them understands. Now demons are hunting them, an ancient gate is stirring, and Vexa has to decide whether to obey the people downstairs or protect the one human she absolutely should not be getting attached to. After all, everyone knows you’re judged by the company you keep—and Vexa has always been bad company.

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EXCERPT:

The little bastard had made Vexa miss the breakdown. That was what pissed her off.

Not the three hours she’d spent chasing him through half the city. Not the fact that he’d shifted faces twice, stolen a car, jumped from the roof of a six-story parking garage, or tried to lose her by cutting through a church during evening Mass. She could forgive all of that. A bounty who didn’t run wasn’t much of a bounty, and Vexa appreciated a little exercise.

But Kharos had waited until the opening riff of “Bleed” hit her helmet speakers before throwing himself out of a moving Honda and disappearing down an alley.

There were limits.

Vexa killed the music, downshifted, and sent Cerberus roaring around the corner. The Harley answered with a growl that was almost infernal enough to make her homesick.

Almost.

Rain had stopped sometime around midnight, leaving the streets wet and shining beneath the neon signs and traffic lights. Cerberus ate the pavement between them, black chrome reflecting smears of red and green as Vexa leaned into the turn. A taxi blared its horn when she cut across two lanes. She raised one gloved hand and gave the driver the finger.

Humans had invented several things Vexa considered legitimate arguments against their extinction. Distilled liquor. Electric guitars. Indoor plumbing. Cheeseburgers. Motorcycles. The middle finger ranked surprisingly high on the list.

She reached the end of the alley in time to see Kharos scramble over a chain-link fence. “Seriously?”

He looked back. That was his mistake. Vexa let the glamour drop from her eyes. For one beautiful second, Kharos saw exactly what was chasing him. His borrowed human face went white, and he fell off the fence. Vexa laughed so hard she nearly missed the turn.

“Run faster, asshole!”

Kharos found his feet and ran. Vexa could have caught him. That was the irritating part. She could have abandoned Cerberus at the curb, shed the rest of her glamour, and been on him before he made the next intersection. Kharos was quick for a lesser demon, but quick was relative. Vexa had been hunting things considerably nastier than him since before most of the buildings around them had existed.

Unfortunately, wings and downtown traffic didn’t mix. Neither did horns and traffic cameras. Humans had become terribly inconvenient since everyone started carrying a recording device in their pockets.