Carnage (Hell Hounds MC, #1) Read online

  The home she nearly burned down had been her last foster placement. Her last attempt to fit in, to try to be normal. By the time she was seventeen, she was on her own. It was safer for everyone that way.

  “How’s the sundae, honey?” her waitress asked from behind the clean but aged counter of the little all-night diner Leta had picked at random.

  She flashed the woman a rare smile. “Perfection, thanks.”

  “You let me know if you need anything,” the waitress said with a tired nod and went back to mating ketchup bottles.

  Leta was the only customer in the place, which was hardly surprising given that it was the middle of the night. She didn’t need much sleep, and what little she required she usually got during the day when it was safer. Not everything she hunted was nocturnal, but enough of them were it was easier to sleep when they did. It cut down on the number of things hunting her while she was vulnerable.

  Because of that, she spent a lot of time in diners and coffee shops like this one, where solitary figures and late night meals were the norm rather than the exception.

  She was still working on her dessert when the hairs on the back of her neck lifted, and a warning chill chased down her spine. With a sigh, she set down her spoon. What’s a girl gotta’ do to get some quality time with her dessert?

  Whatever it was that pinged her radar, it was still too far away to identify. She could already sense it was powerful, though. In fact, it was seriously supercharged. Shit.

  Before she could formulate a plan, the throbbing rumble of a motorcycle engine caught her attention. It was still too far away for human ears to detect, but the waitress seemed to sense something was about to happen. She stopped what she was doing and went through the door that led to the kitchen. Leta hoped she had the smarts to stay there, out of the line of fire.

  The engine noise grew louder, and Leta got to her feet, loosening her muscles with a few casual rolls of her shoulders. A single headlight appeared, and she breathed a sigh of relief. At least there was only one of them to deal with. There was no doubt in her mind that she would have to face whatever it was. If she were lucky, it would be nothing worse than a stray vampire from the nest she had destroyed the other day, though she doubted it. She had never met a vamp even half as powerful as whatever the hell was coming her way. More likely, it was one of the fallen, or an angel coming to investigate the strange energy she gave off. Thanks to her unlikely parentage, Leta’s life force was unique, and that attracted supernatural attention everywhere she went.

  Lucky me.

  She dropped a handful of bills on the table and walked outside, hoping that whatever it was, it would come for her and not bother anyone still inside. She wasn’t exactly the heroic type, but she hated it when innocent people died because they had the misfortune to be standing too close to her when shit went sideways. There was enough blood on her hands as it was, including her mother’s. Her ledger was already so deep into the red it would take her several mortal lifetimes to redress the balance. Leta held out little hope she would survive anywhere near that long. There were too many things in the world out to kill her. Like whatever was coming her way right now. One more monster to slay before she could call it a night. If she made it through this fight, she was going back into the diner and finishing that damned sundae.

  * * * *

  Carnage traveled thousands of miles in a matter of minutes. The pull of his target’s scent made tracking her almost too easy. She was a beacon in the darkness, and he closed in on her faster than he had ever tracked anyone else. There was something different about her. Something that drew him in and had his hound fighting to slip its leash and run.

  He followed the trail to an all-night diner, then backtracked a mile or so before materializing on a quiet stretch of road. He would travel the rest of the way by more conventional means. There were humans around, and materializing out of thin air always attracted too much attention. He checked his weapons and summoned his mount from the ether. His ride was a gleaming chrome and steel steed that had long ago replaced the horses he and his kind had once ridden. In a moment of sadistic humor, Luc had infused each Hound’s motorcycle with the life force of his horse, leaving them to deal with the challenges of having a sentient mount that could travel over two hundred miles per hour and stop on a whim. It was a good thing the Devil had also made his henchmen damned near impossible to kill.

  His prey was standing outside by the time he parked the bike, her entire body bristling with tension as she watched him dismount. Her black hair was tied back in some sort of elaborate braid, and she was dressed to fight, from her black combat boots to the red and black leather coat that swirled around her calves.

  Her scent saturated the air between them, making his entire body ache with need. Between the hard throb of his cock and the howling protests of his hound, Car was fighting hard to keep control over his own damned body.

  I need to get my shit together before I get my ass kicked by a girl.

  Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten. Every step he took brought him closer, revealing more details about the woman he had been sent to retrieve. The photo Luc gave him didn’t do her justice. In person, she was gorgeous and far more dangerous. Everything about her screamed of violence, from the hard set of her jaw to the wary gleam of her stunning blue eyes.

  “Hello, Leta.”

  “How do you know my name,” she demanded. “And what the hell are you? I’ve never sensed anything like you before.”

  “Me? I’m something special, just like you are. And I know your name because you’re my mission. One I plan on wrapping up in the next few minutes.” He kept walking, closing the distance between them at a steady pace.

  “You’re mistaken. I’m not anyone’s mission.” She fluttered her lashes at him in coy flirtation, but there was ice in her eyes as she did it. “I’m just a sweet lil’ girl trying to get along in the big, bad world. Whoever sent you, they’re going to be disappointed. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  Car was impressed. It wasn’t often he met someone who stood up to him without the slightest hint of fear. The beauty in front of him was angry and defiant, but those were the only emotions he could read.

  She shifted her weight, making it appear she was about to take a step backward, but instead of moving away, she lunged toward him, lashing out with a wicked looking blade that hadn’t been in her hand a second ago.

  He deflected her first attack with ease, but while he was focused on her knife hand, she managed to whip herself around into a spinning kick that slammed into his jaw with surprising force. Stars exploded behind his eyes, and it took him a moment to get his bearings again. Those precious seconds were all the time she needed for his pretty little prey to regain her feet and dance back out of reach once more.

  “Sweet cheeks, I’ll answer all your questions once you stop trying to fight me. I don’t want to hurt you, but you are coming with me, one way or another.”

  She snorted with laughter. “Like hell I am. I’m staying right here, and once I’m done with you, I’m going to go back inside and finish my dessert. You’re standing between a woman and her chocolate right now. Trust me, that’s not a good place to be.”

  “As much as I hate the idea of depriving you of your sugar rush, I’m going to have to insist.” Car pointed to his bike without taking his eyes off of her. “You sure you don’t want to do this the easy way?”

  “Positive. But hey, points for actually asking me nicely. No one’s ever tried that approach before.” She held the knife out in front of her, her movements inhumanly graceful as she made the blade bob and weave in an almost hypnotic dance. “You’re not human, and that means I can’t trust you. You’re like all the others. You’re here to hurt me because of what I am.

  He tore his gaze from the dancing blade to look her in the eyes. “Trust has nothing to do with it. You are coming with me. The only question is whether you’re going to make the trip as is, or slightly battered, bound, and gagged.” His cock twitched
at the image of her trussed up and laid out before him like a sinful feast. Oh, the things he wanted to do to her.... If she only knew, she would be running like a rabbit instead of trying to skewer him.

  Leta didn’t know what this guy was, or who sent him, and she had no intentions of sticking around to find out. Her instincts were screaming at her to get away from him. Not only because he was an unknown creature and an obvious threat, but because there was something about him that was messing with her head. She never talked to the ones who hunted her. She didn’t do banter or witty conversation. She either fought or fled.

  This time, something was different.

  “Bound and gagged, huh? I bet that’s the only way you can get a woman to come anywhere near you.” Even as she tossed the barb back at the big man, Leta knew it wasn’t true. He was the walking definition of sex on a stick. Well over six feet tall and clad from head to boot in black bike leathers, he moved like a predator and looked like a god. Dark blonde hair hung to his shoulders in waves. His hard-edged features could have made him a fortune in Hollywood if it weren't for the fact his eyes were a strange, glowing amber with a thick ring of black around the outside.

  The big guy smirked as she lashed out with her knife again, swatting her hand away as if he was dealing with an annoying fly and not six inches of razor-sharp steel. “I don’t need to tie up my women, sweet cheeks. But sometimes I like to.”

  She snarled and ducked an incoming punch, trying to ignore the effect his words were having on her. She loved to fight; she was born for it, but whatever they were doing felt more like flirting...or foreplay. “That’s more than I need to know, thanks.”

  His next blow caught her in the midsection, knocking the air from her lungs and making her see stars. Leta doubled over, fighting to refill her lungs while her ears rang and the ground tried to slide out from under her. She couldn’t do more than stagger a few steps, but she managed to put a little distance between them as she fought to stay on her feet.

  It was a losing battle.

  Before she could regroup, something huge and hairy crashed into her, slamming her to the ground and forcing all of the air out of her body for the second time in thirty seconds.

  What the fuck hit me and where did it come from?

  She raised her hand to stab whatever or whoever was still on top of her, but the moment she moved, a deep, ominous growl filled the air and a set of sharp, pointy teeth closed around her throat, stopping a micro away from drawing blood.

  She froze and waited until she had breath enough to speak again. “Call off your pet, asshole, before I fillet it.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Car wanted to laugh but he couldn’t, not in his current form. Instead, he let out a soft chuff and released his grip on Leta’s throat to lick her soft cheek. Fuck, she tasted as good as she smelled.

  Another low growl rolled up from his throat, and he had an almost irresistible urge to bite her, to taste her blood on his tongue and sink his dick into the heat of her body—what the fuck was wrong with him?

  “Ew! No licking, that’s disgusting,” Leta complained. “Get off me, you ugly mutt. And what is with the sulfur breath? Does your master feed you rotten eggs or something?”

  Car was enjoying himself far too much to move yet, and he was amazed at the casual way she was treating him. Usually, his hound form reduced even the most fearsome of creatures to whimpers. Instead, she was treating him like he was a damned lapdog she caught chewing her favorite shoes.

  “Off!” she snapped, and this time, she sent a blast of fire from her hands to reinforce her demand.

  Heat washed over him, and the entire parking lot lit up with a cheerful glow, but that was all that happened. Lucifer knew that a Hound’s career path meant regular fights with supernatural creatures—or even the occasional rogue fallen—and so he had gifted his hunters with certain abilities, including an invulnerability to fire.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. A fireproof pooch? Nice pet, asshole...” she trailed off as she looked around and realized they were alone.

  “Oh, fuck, no.” Her eyes widened, and she stared up at him with horror. “Asshole, is that you?”

  Car licked her face again.

  “Ugh! Stop that.” She swiped at her cheek with the sleeve of her jacket and then shoved at him. “You’re a fucking Hell Hound, aren’t you? You have to be, because that’s the only thing in existence that can turn into...” she waved her hands at him. “This. Either that or they need to stop feeding the local strays toxic waste. Are those spikes running down your back? What are you, one-part dog, two-parts nightmare?”

  He nodded his big head and gave her the canine version of a grin, certain she would understand. He was glad she knew what he was. It should make things easier.

  “So, what does the Devil want with me? I’m a nobody, and I sure as hell haven’t done anything to warrant a visit from one of his Hounds.” She shoved at his chest. “And for fuck's sake, will you get off of me already? You weigh a ton.”

  Car had to admit, he was curious as to what Luc wanted with the sexy minx he had called an abomination. The thought of her being punished in Hell simply for being born didn’t sit well with Car. Not at all.

  He got to his feet and bounded to one side, shifting back into human form as he did so. Being close to her was fucking with his head enough already, a little space might help him get his shit together. He reminded himself that he was a bounty hunter, not a nursemaid. His job was to deliver his targets. What happened to them afterward wasn’t his concern.

  Leta watched in fascination as the massive hound with teeth the length of her index finger and eyes that glowed a demonic orange transformed back into the sexy, arrogant son of a bitch she had fought with earlier. Even his clothes reappeared, a fact she found both intriguing and disappointing. If she were going to die soon, a little full frontal nudity would have been a nice image to go out on. And if the Devil had sent a Hell Hound after her, then her death was likely coming very soon indeed.

  She never expected to live a long life, but she always assumed she would go down fighting and take a few of her attackers with her. She never figured on meeting up with a Hell Hound. The Hounds were the stuff of nightmares and dark legends. Unstoppable. Damned near unkillable. Once they had their target’s scent, they could track them across the world and even into Hell, or Heaven, and nothing would deter them. There was no point in fighting with something she couldn’t defeat or escape. All she had was the slim hope that whatever the Devil wanted, it wasn’t her life. And if it were, she would fight so long as there was breath in her body, even if it meant going after the Devil himself. Her life was no bed of roses, but she wasn’t going to simply give it up without a fight.

  Why can’t they just leave me alone?

  “Up you get. You’ve got an appointment with the King of Hell, and he’s not known for his patience.”

  The big man offered her his hand, and she found herself reaching up to take it despite her reservations. The need to touch him overrode all other instincts. The second their hands made contact a shimmer of heat danced up her arm, making her gasp. What the hell? Now was not the time to lose her damned mind. Weirder still, he seemed to feel something too, because he was staring at his arm with a frown that somehow didn’t make him look any less gorgeous.

  “Now that we’re done dancing, will you give me your name and maybe some kind of explanation as to why you’re here?” Once he let her go, she dusted herself off and did a quick assessment of the damage. She was bruised and battered, and she still felt a lingering headache that came on every time she used any of the abilities from her father’s side...like blasting someone with fire.

  “Carnage,” he said, taking hold of her hand again. Before she could pull away, he fastened a silver manacle around her wrist.

  “Hey! What’s with the jewelry?” she demanded, snatching her hand out of his reach and trying to ignore the zing of desire that passed over her skin at his touch. “And what’s Carnag
e? Your name or the reason you’re here?”

  The smug asshole smirked at her. “It’s my name. I’m here because Luc sent me to fetch you.”

  “Luc? You call the Devil by his first name? Well, isn’t that cozy.” She held up her wrist. “And this? Are we engaged now?”

  He lifted his arm, and she noticed the twin to the manacle she wore was around his wrist, the two of them linked by a section of finely forged chain. “The jewelry is to make sure you don’t wander off on me. It’s teleportation-proof, so don’t bother trying.” He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “As for the engagement offer, I’m not looking for a wife, but if you’re looking for someone to share your bed, sweet cheeks, I’d be happy to volunteer for the night.”

  His words made her pussy cream as she imagined what he would be like in bed. He would be a beast, no doubt about it. If the whispered and dark stories were to be believed, the Hell Hounds all had the stamina of a god and an appetite for pleasure that rivaled Lucifer himself. A hundred lurid images danced through her head, each more arousing that the last. There was something about him that had her totally off her game, and it was getting worse the longer she was near him. She needed to put some space between them, which wasn’t going to be easy now that they were chained together. Forcing herself to focus, she opted to channel her unexpected sexual tension into something more useful. Anger.

  “Are you hitting on me? I thought you were in a hurry. Something about your bosom buddy Luc not being patient.”

  “There are some things in life worth a little pain and punishment.” Carnage heard the words coming out of his mouth, but he hadn’t meant to say them. Shit, he hadn’t even meant to think them. It was like he was possessed, most likely by the throbbing hard-on trapped in his pants. No woman had ever affected him this way, not in life or in all the centuries that followed.