Free Beast of Fire -- a Demon Hunting Sexy Romance by Lisa Renée Jones

through the air, shredding his heart, because there was no "us" to be found in his world, no matter how sweet the sound of that word. Not with Kresley, not with anyone. He was alone. He was always alone. “Please,” Kresley pleaded again.    
    But the Seer did not respond to Kresley; the depths of those magical eyes fixed on him, waiting for his reply. Lucan’s heart squeezed with Kresley’s concern for him. She’d come here, to the Dark Circle, for him. He’d tried to keep her away from the darkness and had led her directly into it.
    “What Demon do you want killed?” Lucan asked tightly, willing in that moment to do anything for her freedom, for one piece of information that might deliver her from hell.  
    “Does it matter?” the Seer challenged. “Are not all Demons evil?”
    Her proclamation shook him inside and out, the implications washing over him in an instant. Yes, his mind screamed. All Demons were evil. It was the only acceptable answer. It was the one he wanted, the one he needed. The only one his mind accepted, the only one that made his past actions as an assassin for the Guardians acceptable.  
    “Silence does not change the answer,” the Seer reprimanded. “Nor does it change what you see when you look into a mirror. You of all people should know there is no light without darkness. There is no Knight of White without the darkness of a beast within him. No Knight of White who survives without the mate to bind that beast with her light. This is the same for all races, all beings. Where there is darkness, there is light. Where there is strength, there is weakness.”
    Lucan had seen the pure evil of the soulless Darkland Beasts, an evil he had been battling for three centuries. He scoffed. “That’s simply not true.”
    She responded to his thoughts, rather than his words, seeming to read his mind. “The Darkland Beasts are humans turned into Demons. They were not always of the darkness. The worst enemy is not created, but born of their own choices. That is the truly deadly opponent. The one who has an agenda beyond simple existence.”  
    Lucan gave her a mindful look. “Why are you telling me this?” Lucan asked suspiciously. “What do you want?”
    “To stop the war,” she whispered, her chest rising and falling quickly, a haunting quality to her voice.  
    “What war?” Lucan demanded, something in the way she had spoken the words spiking an immediate sense of urgency in him.
    “It is . . .” Her eyes dropped to the table, hands settling on the silk, fingers spreading, tips touching. The room seemed electric now, charged with some supernatural force. Kresley moved closer to Lucan, her arm wrapping around his, shivering. He could feel her looking at him, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the Seer. Instead, he reached up and covered her hand on his arm with his own. Abruptly, the Seers lashes lifted, her eyes once again swirling with otherworldly magic. “He is coming,” she hissed through her teeth. “We haven’t much time.”
    “Who?” Kresley asked. “Who is coming?”
    The Seer stared forward in a trance-like state. "The dark one,” she whispered. “He brings war from the shadows of our city. It will soon spread beyond if allowed. Two will battle for one source of power–one of darkness, one of light.   The dark one . . . He will not stop until–"  
    Suddenly, she shuddered, her eyes rolling back in her head again. She murmured something incomprehensible.  
    A moment later, she pushed to her feet, spine stiff, suddenly coherent again, clear-eyed. Her voice strong. "He is here. You must go before it is too late.” She started to turn away.  
    “Wait, please!” Kresley shouted, trying to move forward again as Lucan held her back. “The ring the Werewolf leader wears—"
    The Seer paused, fixed Kresley in an unearthly stare. “Removing that ring will destroy you.”  
    A blast came from a distance, screams following. The door behind them splintered.