Free The Darkest Pleasure by Gena Showalter Page B

watch your destruction from above,” a human shouted, but he was silenced as another muted gunshot sounded. There was a scream. A gurgle. A thump as a body hit the floor.
    Footsteps. “See you in hell, demons,” another human yelled, but he, too, was soon silenced.
    “She’s in the third room on the right,” Lucien said, suddenly beside Reyes.
    They reached the top and raced in different directions. Reyes encountered only one other Hunter before he reached Danika’s room. That Hunter shot at him, too, nailing him in the stomach.
    Reyes never paused, his adrenaline too high, his demon too happy.
    Smiling, he reached the human and sliced his throat. Then he was in front of the bedroom door. He kicked it open, not bothering with the lock. Too time-consuming.
    A pop and whiz crackled in his ears as another bullet hit him, this one in the thigh. His limbs trembled as weakness tried to set in, but he managed to remain upright. Blood poured, the demon sang and Reyes scanned the room, taking stock. Danikalay in bed, bound, motionless. A human stood at her side, trembling and pale as he aimed a gun at Reyes.
    “I’ve waited for this moment a long time,” that human said hoarsely. “Dreamed of it. Craved it. Now here you are.”
    Reyes zeroed in on the man’s tattoo: the mark of infinity, symmetrical, black. “Here I am. Did you touch her?”
    “As if you care what’s been done to a human.”
    Another shot. Reyes leapt to the side. He would enjoy the pain, but didn’t want to lose any more blood. The next five minutes were too important.
    This blast sailed past him, and he raised his own gun. Aimed.
    “Whatever you do to me, staying here, watching the woman, was worth it,” the man said as Reyes squeezed the trigger. Another head shot. The Hunter collapsed onto the carpeted floor and didn’t rise.
    Reyes was at Danika’s side in the next instant, snapping the bands apart and liberating her wrists and ankles. He gathered her sleeping form in his arms, his blood dripping onto her stained white shirt and too-pale face. Her dark hair was matted to her scalp and temples, her cheeks hollow—how much weight had she lost?—and her eyelashes cast ghostly shadows that blended with the bruises under her eyes before branching into menacing spikes. There was another bruise on her jaw.
    “Danika.” Her name was both a prayer and a curse.
    She didn’t stir.
    Her arms hung limply at her sides, her head lolled. Awake, she would have shoved him away. He would rather that happen than this…inactivity. This nothingness.
    Behind him, the sounds of battle ceased, replaced by the wail of sirens. He could hear his friends filling the doorway, shuffling inside the room. He didn’t care. He tightened his hold on Danika—too long, it had been too long since he’d last seen and held her—resting her cheek against his neck.
    Her skin was cold, so cold. Like ice. Her heartbeat was slow against his chest.
    “Lucien?” The name croaked from his throat. Hot tears blurred his vision.
    “I am here, my friend.” A hand settled on his shoulder. “Somehow they knew we were coming and were prepared, but they have now been dispatched.”
    “Never mind that. Take us home.”

CHAPTER FIVE
    D ANIKA HAD BEEN COLD for so long that the blazing-hot blanket draped over her shocked her out of the death-sleep. Her eyelids popped open, and a gasp shoved past her lips. Remnants of her nightmare refused to fade, however, preventing her from seeing what surrounded her. She saw only a darkness slashed with crimson, the night bleeding from lethal wounds. She heard swords clanking, demons laughing evilly and the whoosh of heads as they rolled.
    Death, death, her every breath proclaimed.
    Calm down, just calm down. This isn’t real. You know better .
    Her grandmother had once suffered from dreams like these. Dreams where demons ruled and evil reigned. Dreams that had driven the frail woman to try and kill herself at the age of sixty-five.
    The dreams were