Once upon a time, she’d brought home every stray in the neighborhood and set up “Holly’s Home” for animals. Peter had shaken his head at her and told her she couldn’t save the world.
Her mom had only let her keep one cat. She’d cried for days when she’d lost the others.
And learned that she couldn’t save the world.
No, no, she hadn’t learned that. Because she went on the news every night, a secret part of her hoping to make a difference.
Just as she hoped to make a difference with Niol.
Not saving the world but maybe saving him.
“You don’t know what you’re doing.” Now his hands grasped her upper arms and he lifted her onto her toes, star ing down at her with an almost desperate rage. “Don’t make me-” He stopped, and a muscle flexed along the rock-hard length of his jaw. “Don’t make me care about you, Holly. Because if I did and if anything ever happened to you-”
She could see the promise of hell in his eyes.
“Whatever you do, don’t make me love you.” His eyes bored into hers. “I don’t love well, but I kill perfectly.”
Not the heartfelt confession every girl dreamed of hearing.
A threat she’d never hoped to get.
Her mouth had gone so dry her throat ached. She swallowed over the lump of dust and said, “Niol-”
His head jerked to the right. Toward the long line of windows on the far side of the building. Windows always covered by thick black curtains. “What the-”
Glass shattered as circles of fire-no, bottles with burning rags in them-shot through the curtains.
The bottles crashed into the floor, into the tables, into the bar, and flames exploded in a burst of white-hot heat all around them.
Holly opened her mouth to scream.
Niol roared and lifted his hands, and the flames died in an instant, with only the faint wisps of smoke drifting in the bar.
Her scream choked out in a gasp.
Niol ran for the door.
She grabbed her shoes. When had I lost them? She spared a brief glance for the scorched tables and bar, then she thundered after him.
He nearly ripped the front door from its hinges. Fast and strong. She knew that, but she’d never seen him quite like this.
The slam of car doors.
The screech of tires.
Holly’s gaze flew to the right. A black van shot down the street in a fog of exhaust and the stench of burnt rubber. Getting away . The bastards who had just tried to torch them were fleeing.
And they’d get away. They were too fast.
The tag. She could get the tag number and-
Another roar from Niol. One that seemed to shake the street itself. He lifted his hands up high and then slammed them down at his sides.
She watched, stunned, horrified, as the van flipped into the air, rolled, once, twice, then hit the black pavement and rolled again, finally stopping when it crashed into a wooden light post.
Wow.
“Niol…” She tried to grab his arm, but he was already storming down the road, heading for the broken van that swayed so slowly now, back and forth. Smoke or steam, Holly couldn’t tell which, rose from its exposed belly, spewing into the air.
The driver’s-side door flew off and crashed ten feet away.
That’s one pissed-off demon.
Not that she blamed him. Those assholes had just tried to kill them.
Screw the shoes. Running in heels wasn’t an option. So Holly kicked ’em off and took off after him.
The whine of a siren reached her ears just as she skidded to a halt next to Niol. He had the driver out. He was a young guy with coal-black hair, matted red near his forehead. Watery green eyes. Busted lip.
“Who the hell are you?” Niol’s fingers were white as he held up the kid. No, not really a kid. The guy had to be in his early twenties.
Holly bent down, craning her neck to see into the demolished vehicle. Two more guys. One starting to move in the backseat-very, very slowly. The blond in the front was out cold.
“J-Jon D-Douglas…” Blood dripped from the guy’s busted lip and stained his rounded chin.
“Do you know who I am?” Niol snarled. The guy’s booted feet dangled over the ground. “Do you know just what the fuck you’ve done?”
The wail of the approaching siren was silenced by the sudden rush of wind that shook the van.
Holly reached for Niol. “Find out why, Niol.” She knew Niol had enemies. She would have been an idiot not to have known that a demon as strong as Niol didn’t always play nice with the other paranormals in town.
But with all the twisted crap going on with the demon-hunter case…they needed to find out why.
“I-I don’t kn-know you, m-man…” Bleary eyes started to clear, a bit. “Y-you got th-this wrong. M-my friends-we’re h-hurt, n-need h-help…”
Niol’s lips peeled away from his teeth. “Do I look like I give a shit that you’re hurt? Asshole, if you don’t start talking, fast, you’ll be dead in the next five seconds.”
Jon choked. Niol dropped him and the guy retched on the ground.
“Human. ” Niol shook his head. “A human came after me? The idiot must want to die.”
A whimper from the backseat.
Holly’s palms were slick with sweat. The setup was wrong. Any paranormal in town would have known that using fire against Niol wasn’t exactly the smartest option. The guy could manipulate the elements pretty much at will.
Carefully, so as to avoid the, ahem, mess on the ground, Holly knelt beside the guy. He was shaking and rocking back and forth and the wind had quieted enough for Holly to hear the siren again.
The cops were closing in. Not much time.
She had to find out what was going on before Niol carried through with his rage. “Who sent you to Paradise Found?”
Jon looked up, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth. His eyes changed as he stared at her, she could see it. The bravado came back. Doesn’t think I’m a threat. She knew what the punk was going to say even before he snarled-
“F-fuck off, bitch, you-”
His words ended in a gasp and his face began to turn purple.
His hands clawed at his throat as he fought for breath.
“Don’t ever talk to her like that, asshole.”
Holly glanced up at Niol. Lines bracketed his mouth. Fury covered his face. “Give him a breath,” she ordered softly, her stomach so knotted she ached.
One black brow rose, but she heard Jon take a wrenching breath. “Good.” She held Niol’s stare a moment longer, then glanced back at the punk. “If you want to keep breathing, answer my questions.”
What was this? Holly wondered. Good demon, bad demon? Whatever worked. Time was running out.
A frantic nod.
“Let him keep breathing.” Her hands were clenched, her nails digging into her palms. The pavement bit into her knees as she knelt before Jon. “You don’t know what you’ve gotten into, do you?”
“H-how is-is h-he-” Jon broke off, shaking his head. “N-not p-possible-”
“Trust me, it’s possible.” Lambs to the slaughter. Niol was right. The odds were sure looking good that ol’ Jon was human and way out of his league. “Someone sent you to torch Paradise.” To rouse the beast. “Who.” Not a question, and if the guy truly wanted to draw another strong breath, he’d better answer.
Holly wasn’t particularly in the most caring mood. The guy had just tried to burn down the building she’d been inside. If Niol hadn’t been there-
No. Not going to think about that.
Sometimes it definitely paid to have the big, psychic badass as your lover.
And as your muscle-because Jon started talking, fast, the stutter all but leaving his voice as he said. “Woman. Found us at M-Myer’s.”
Myer’s. She knew that place. A run-down bar near MU. Frequented most often by freshmen with false IDs.
“Offered us a g-grand apiece, cash, to burn the bar-”
And the guys had what-jumped at the chance to become pyros? “You didn’t know who owned Paradise?” She had a suspicion but-