Mallory's Hunt by Jory Strong

Author:Jory Strong
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal suspense, russian mafia, human trafficking, vigilante justice, hellhounds, dark paranormal
Publisher: Jory Strong

Hayden waited for the others to leave then gathered the things they would need, tossing them into the knapsack before moving to the wooden box. He opened it.

The sight of the soul jars made him curse Mallory for not taking the fucking gun, for dragging a human into their affairs, not that he cared if this particular one ended up dead.

He didn't trust Matthew though he'd once trusted other humans, once loved them.

Grabbing the soul jars, Hayden hurled them at the wall.

They bounced and dropped, unbroken, unfazed, uncaring of his rage. And expressing it did nothing but make him remember the spirits trapped by the Reaper Lord's minions on the day they'd come to collect him and introduce him to Hell. It made him think about the rooms full of jars he'd discovered when he went looking, intending to steal the three he cared about, the three he'd sacrifice his life to free, if that's what it took. They were souls held in stasis, hoarded treasure and bargaining chips—like the one they were about to gather—because the Reaper Lord willed it, not because he was entitled to them.

Crouching, Hayden picked up the jars. He tossed all but one into the box and slammed the lid.

He spilled the contents of Mallory's envelope onto the desk then added the soul jar and the picture of the Jane Doe leaning against a dumpster to the rest of the stuff in the pack.

Mallory might be acting like a fool, blinded by denial and attraction, but he didn't intend to be one. Entering the bar, he spotted the creature he needed.

Last night she'd been dressed for a Hollywood party. Tonight she wore low jeans and a cropped tee showing plenty of creamy curves and alabaster skin. He'd seen her with Matthew but he wasn't willing to pay the price she'd ask to reveal what she'd learned about him.

Reaching her, he said, "I want you to keep someone company."

A tongue darted out, licking lush red lips. "Name your poison."

Her voice was light and teasing, but her eyes probed and measured and judged like a chef reading a slab of meat and determining if it was ready for the barbecue pit.

Not going to be me. Not tonight anyway.

He tipped his head toward the exit.

"Later," she told the man she'd been playing with, running blood-red fingernails down her prey's upper arm before sliding off the stool.

Steps away and those same clawed fingernails scratched knowingly against the backpack. "What am I supposed to do while I keep this special someone company?"

"Watch him. He's there to shut down the security and keep it down. You're there to make sure that's what he does."

"It'll cost you a favor of equal value."

Of course it will. And she could see through the bullshit camouflaging heart and soul and find the exact weight of what was due.

"Done."

The cemetery gate was open and Mallory was waiting on the other side of it when they caught up.

Hayden felt an unwelcome spark of admiration. He knew how long it took Dane to get into Royal Oaks.

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