Demon Lovers: Book 3
“What the fuck are we doing here?” Locan glanced over his shoulder at the tall white letters glinting in the moonlight on the hillside above them and burst out laughing. “You said Hollywood, but I think it’s down there.” He pointed at the lights in the distance. “Not the Hollywood Hills.”
Addie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “Look...we’re demon hunters. That’s the way it works. You got the same instructions I did, which means the same coordinates popped into your head at exactly the same time they showed up in mine, and we are all exactly where we’re supposed to be. So get over it.” Still grumbling, she turned her back on Locan and stared at the heavily populated valley below.
“Touchy a bit?” Jett threw one arm over Locan’s broad shoulders, the other over Addie’s slim set. He glanced at the huge white letters on the hillside above them. “I believe we’re here, Locan, because the film crew is working nearby. It looks like they’re filming at the radio tower just above us.” He glanced uphill, where the glow of lights brightened the early evening sky.
Addie grunted. Locan was still laughing, and for what it was worth, Jett felt like laughing, too. Damn, what a threesome they made: just a few weeks ago, Addie’d been a junior accountant looking for a job; yesterday, Locan had been trying to figure out whether or not to kill Jett, and Jett had been stuck in demon form. Again. Which was not a good body type for a demon hunter.
Not when killing demons was his goal.
But Addie’s new career wasn’t anything like she’d expected—she was their fulcrum now, which put her right in the middle of the ongoing battle against demonkind, and also made her responsible for keeping Jett and Locan’s relationship balanced. She’d more than proved her worth as a demon fighter as well, and she’d loved them both enough to risk her life to save them—more than once. Locan was no longer his nemesis, and was instead now his lover, and damn, but life couldn’t get any better, could it?
Jett leaned over and kissed the top of Addie’s head, then turned to his left and laid a big one on Locan. At least the guy reacted fast—he kissed him back, which could have led to all sorts of other activities if Addie hadn’t spun around and pointed to the sign.
“Holy shit,” she said. “Will you look at that!”
Jett broke the kiss with Locan, turned and stared through the gathering dusk in the direction Addie pointed—directly at the sign. A demon sat there—big as life, considering what a tiny demon he was—perched atop the first L in Hollywood, kicking its heels against the wood like a bratty kid.
It wasn’t much bigger than a little kid, either, though the curving horns and long, snake-like tail made it appear a bit larger than it actually was. Size, though, wasn’t always indicative of danger. Any demon could be deadly. “Be right back.” Jett slipped through space and reappeared on the hill just above and behind the sign, reached out with all ten fingers and shot a blast of fire at the demon.
The thing obviously hadn’t expected him. It shrieked, leapt into the air as if to flee, and then burst into flames. Within seconds, a small bit of dark ash wafted away on the breeze. Jett reappeared beside Addie and Locan. It was hard not to grin, but damn it felt good to be back in his own body again.
Only days ago, he’d been poisoned—the venom from a demon bite had turned him into the demon he’d been before he’d become a demon hunter. Reverting to demon form had done a number on him, and if not for Addie, he might still be stuck in that rather disgusting body.
Voices carried on the evening breeze. Locan glanced at Jett and nodded. “I hear them. Sounds like filming right now.” He glanced toward the radio tower.
Addie frowned. “But we just got the call not twenty minutes ago. Something ate the assistant director! They wouldn’t be working again—not this soon—would they?”
Jett merely shrugged. “Hell, if it means going over budget . . .”
“Oh, that’s just bad.” Locan grabbed Addie’s hand and nodded at Jett. “What say we check it out, but stay cloaked for now?”
“Works for me, though if they are demons, you’d expect at least a scream or two.” Jett took Locan’s other hand and the three of them moved as one, teleporting to the busy parking lot at the top of the mountain and slipping into shadows as they only partially materialized behind the large crowd of actors and film crew. It was easier staying masked as shadows, and it took less energy than actually going invisible. The night was dark—as long as they stayed in the shadows and away from bright lights, they’d be able to move freely and still remain unseen.
An ambulance was heading slowly down the hill and a few folks sat off to one side talking among themselves, but the director was shouting orders and it appeared that actors and crew were beginning to respond. A couple of police cars flanked the ambulance, but it didn’t appear that any officers remained on-site. Weird, if someone had actually died here. Shouldn’t they be hanging around, collecting evidence?
Jett glanced at Locan and Addie—they had all retained their physical shapes, but each of them showed no substance at all. Of course, they couldn’t fight when masked this way, but for now they needed to do a little information gathering. The faint scent of sulfur lingered, but with dozens of actors costumed as demonkind, it was hard to tell who was human and who wasn’t.
If any. Would a demon be smart enough to blend in with this many humans? They weren’t known for their intelligence.
Locan’s thoughts slipped into Jett’s mind. Let’s split up. I can smell sulfur. I don’t sense demons, but that doesn’t always mean they’re not around, just that they’re working really hard at disguising themselves. If you sense demonkind, don’t go in alone. We have no idea what we’re up against. We know the bastards are evolving. Damned video games!
They’d discovered the hard way that some of the demonic characters in video games were manifesting as actual demons—as if the games themselves were calling the creatures into existence. Addie had jokingly said she thought they were powered by teenaged testosterone. The guys weren’t sure she was that far off, though they had no proof. Yet.
Addie shot a quick glance at Jett and headed to an area where a group of costumed women huddled close. At least a couple of them appeared to be crying. Locan drifted off in the direction of the trailers where it looked like makeup and costuming took place. Jett watched both his partners for a moment. Then he flowed along the dark shadows just outside of the spotlights until he was close to a guy who seemed to be in charge. The director? The man was staring at a group of actors who were finding their places around a large cinder-block building, but he muttered softly to himself, almost as if he were arguing.
Except he was all alone. The stink of sulfur was stronger here. Was this where the assistant director had died? Death by demon was rare. The creatures were generally more adept at causing turmoil and strife or fighting among themselves, not actually attacking and killing humans. Jett moved closer, blending in with the shadows while he watched the director work. A dark stain on the asphalt caught his attention.
Not blood. It looked more like decomposing demon, but something had happened here recently. He checked the area. Just the faint scent of sulfur, but nothing fresh. It should be stronger since decomposition wasn’t complete. Even as he watched, the black stain faded away.
The director shouted something. A few of the actors switched their positions.
Jett picked up Addie’s soft voice and his gaze immediately shifted to her. She’d taken on her female form and sat with the women on the opposite side of the set. He stared at her a moment. She was so beautiful, so slim and athletic, with such an amazing presence about her—she made all the others look like fake imitations. He focused on her short, spiky silvery white hair and the dramatic black streak over her left eye. Damn, the girl was an absolute knockout.
Locan had gone natural as well, but since everyone was in makeup and costumes, they fit in perfectly. Locan leaned against a wall with a group of extras. Like Addie, he fit right in with his waist-length silvery white hair, bare, heavily muscled chest, and his signature white leather pants practically glued to his long, strong legs.
The sleek pants fit him like a second skin, emphasizing his muscular thighs and cupping his cock and balls with a loving hand.
Jett swallowed back a groan and forcefully willed away the sudden surge of an unwanted erection. Arousal felt totally bizarre in shadow form, and the thought flitted through his mind that sex while cloaked in shadow might be a mind-blowing experience.
Time to tamp down those fantasies, though they were hard to resist. He’d been Locan’s partner for millennia, and yet he’d not always experienced such a visceral reaction to the man. At least not before Addie.
She’d changed everything. Their past fulcrums had kept them in balance by preventing Jett and Locan from killing each other—usually diffusing the tension with sex—fucking Locan first and then Jett. Addie’s approach to finding balance was unique. She’d helped Jett and Locan see that the anger between them was actually frustration from unfulfilled lust and desire. Once they’d acted on their feelings and admitted what had simmered between them for so long, they’d built a powerful bond unlike anything either man had ever known.
Jett certainly hadn’t expected it. How could he know that the hatred he’d felt for Locan for so long had merely been one side of the coin? Flip to the other side and there was love.
It had made all of them more powerful. The two demon hunters and their fulcrum, no longer merely partners, but lovers. Locan as pure and bright as a brilliant day, Jett as dark and mysterious as the deepest night. And Addie . . . dear Addie, an innocent young woman who’d been forcefully changed—no longer human, she was now the one who kept Jett and Locan in balance, who made them stronger, better.
Who’d taught them to be lovers, and then had taken on both of them, together. Their ménage relationship in love made them a powerful force as fighters.
Jett pulled his gaze away from his amazing partners and focused on the director. One of the actors suddenly raised his head and Jett’s gaze flashed to him. Dressed as a demon, he seemed to swell and stretch, growing in height and breadth, somehow expanding. He stared at the director, his face hidden behind a terrifying mask with a double set of horns growing from his temples and a body covered in red scales. It wasn’t the horns or scales that caught Jett’s eye. No, it was the luminescence shining from his face, his eyes that suddenly glowed a brilliant green, like a cat in the headlights.
The director stomped around the cameraman and pointed at the demon. “What the fuck are you doing, Brandt? Get back on your mark.”
“No-o-o-o-o-o-o!” Howling like a banshee, Brandt the actor, now demon, launched himself through the air, an impossible leap that took him over a smaller actor just in front of his position. Screaming, he lowered his head and led with his horns, going straight for the director.
Jett leapt. No more substantial than mist, he jumped out of the shadows and over the cameraman’s head, then rolled in front of the demon, taking solid form as he connected with the creature’s powerful legs. It was like hitting concrete barriers. He felt the shock vibrate through his body, but then the demon stumbled and shrieked in outrage. Jett shifted from solid to mist as the creature hit the ground—hard—behind him.
“You getting that? Holy shit!” The director lunged toward the cameraman, gesturing wildly at the action, but Jett was already gone.
Floating overhead, lost in the darkness beyond the klieg lights, he watched the scene below. Others rushed forward, but the erstwhile demon lay in the dirt, eyes wide and staring. A sulfuric mist rose above his body, coalesced into a spinning cloud, and vanished.
The man lying on the ground was just that: a man, wearing jeans and a T-shirt. His makeup and costume were gone. Or had that been the demonic form—a full possession of body, soul, and mind?
Frowning, Jett stared at the activity beneath him. This was definitely a different kind of demon. Demon possession was more than a myth, but it wasn’t all that common, either. He’d never seen a demon rise from a living human before. As Jett studied the film crew and actors milling about, he wondered just how many of them he thought were in costume were actually demons. How in the hell were they going to figure out who the enemy was? Where they were hiding—and what the creatures from hell were planning?
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