Free Winterblaze by Kristen Callihan

blasted woman appeared completely unaffected and would most likely slap him should he try anything. He shook his head and took a breath.
    “Go back to the cabin, and I’ll search the rest of the area.”
    They’d been together long enough for him to know her “surely you jest” look quite well. He did not care a whit. The woman wasn’t facing that
thing
. Nor could he think with her nearby. His hand curled around Poppy’s arm, holding her secure lest she get any fanciful notions of leaving his side. “Either you go, or we both wait it out here.”
    Her breath was cool on his cheek. “Listen, I’ve more experience with these matters than—”
    “Forgive me, but I was under the impression that yourrole within your organization was of an administrative nature.”
    Moss brown eyes flashed darkly. “Are you suggesting that I cannot handle myself in the field?”
    “I am suggesting that one of us has greater experience in the field and that person is not you.”
    “Of all the preposterous, pompous—”
    Winston clamped a hand over her mouth and dropped to a crouch. The step of a boot had sounded beyond, and his blood froze. Poppy did not fight, and he let his hand slide free.
    “Left corner about ten yards off.” Poppy’s voice was but a breath. Which rather amused him, given that they’d just been talking loud enough for anyone to hear them. Still, he simply nodded and held her tight against him. Christ but they’d been squabbling like infants, and now they were trapped. His muscles tensed as a deliberate step sounded just around the crate. Whoever it was wasn’t bothering with stealth. Poppy stiffened as well. Their eyes met, and her hand slipped into his pocket and wrapped around his gun.
Bloody blasting hell.
He held her gaze, his heart wrenching in his chest for fear for her. It ought to be him protecting her. But he gave a slight nod.
Let her aim be true.
    Out of the corner of his eye, a shadow loomed. Everything slowed and yet sped up as he twisted to the side, and Poppy lifted the gun and fired. Her arm bobbled at the last second. A bad shot. Winston reached out for the gun, ready to take it from her and shoot the demon down. Smoke clogged his throat and ruined his vision. His ears rang from the report of the gun. But not enough to miss Talent’s irate shout.
    “What the bleeding devil?”
    Gun smoke dissipated, and Talent stood, glaring pure murder down at them. “Are you trying to kill me?”
    Poppy wrenched free of Winston and rose. “Had I been, you would be dead, Mr. Talent.”
    Getting to his feet was far harder, for visions of Poppy being cut down before him still swirled within Winston’s head. But he straightened and adjusted his lapels if only to do something to calm himself. “You shot wide, didn’t you?” And damn if pride didn’t swell within him. Fancy that.
    Poppy did not smile, but it lurked in her eyes. That, and a certain smugness that irked. “How good of you to notice, Mr. Lane.”
    “Well, I didn’t,” snapped Talent. “You scared ten years off my life.”
    “Mr. Lane and I were defending ourselves. You ought to have made your presence known.”
    Talent snorted. “Right. ‘Excuse me, Mr. Demon, I’m walking toward you to ascertain whether or not you are my mates. Care to clarify for me?’ ”
    Winston smothered a laugh with a cough. “Well then. All’s well and all of that.”
    They both glared at him, so he simply led the way out.
    “How did you track the thing down here?” Winston asked Poppy as they left the hold while scanning the area for lingering threats. His nerves were shot for the day and, short of drinking a restorative, he could only ask questions and hope the familiar practice would further calm him.
    “Goggles.” Poppy tapped a purple lens resting on the top of her head. “Demons are born in the Underworld and thus carry a trace of it on their flesh in the form of chemical rays. The violet lens picks up those rays.” She gave a nod in the