MB_DHI2

Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

Michele Bardsley

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gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison
and a fine of $250,000.

ISBN: 978-1-59596-689-6
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Publisher:

Changeling Press LLC
PO Box 1046
Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046

www.ChangelingPress.com

Editor: Sheri Ross Fogarty
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller

Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

Michele Bardsley

Four demons imprisoned for their sins. Let them go and chaos begins. Each has a gift
you must gain. Only then will you break evil’s chain.

With her partner Graddie still out of commission, Angelica Mortis must search for
the next demon gift on her own. Except that the annoying and arrogant and yummy

mage Roc wants to be her new partner. And he won’t take no for an answer.

But Angelica isn’t the only one after the demon’s vessel -- a Chinese flute called a
koudi.

Daniel Montrose collects unusual musical instruments. He wants the strangely

carved koudi, even if it means venturing into the seedy bar called Dusky’s and doing
business with a smarmy swindler.

He doesn’t count on literally falling into the arms of handsome Irishman Sean
O’Houlihan, who offers him a tantalizing taste of the forbidden. Daniel’s rattled by

the luscious Sean -- who wants to acquire Daniel just as much as Daniel wants to

acquire the flute. Maybe more. All Daniel has to do is take a chance…

All Angelica has to do is find the flute, get its gift, kill a demon, ignore Roc, save

Graddie, and find out what secret her parents are keeping… all without chipping her
nails or getting supernatural spatter on her clothes.

You know what? Demons suck.

Prologue

Two weeks ago…

In the office of Demon Hunters, Inc., Angelica Mortis examined the heavy copper

piece: four monkeys sat on a gnarled limb. “The wise monkeys,” she said. “If we do not

hear, see, speak, or do evil, we shall be spared all evil. It’s a Buddhist philosophy.”

“I thought there were only three monkeys,” said her business partner and best

friend, Graddock Bradenton. His fingernails were painted neon pink, which matched

his dress, heels, and wig. His make-up, as usual, was perfect. He was sexy as a man or a

woman.

“Mizaru.” Angelica pointed to the first chimp whose hands covered his eyes.

“See no evil. And Kikazaru is the one covering his ears.”

“Hear no evil,” said Graddie. “And the one covering his mouth represents speak

no evil.”

“His name is Iwazaru.” Angelica took out the unusual piece. It was heavy. The

bottom was smooth and flat. All the monkeys had eyes made from green gems; all but

Iwazaru, whose eyes were covered by his hands. “The fourth one is Shizaru.”

“What’s his story?” Graddock considered Shizaru, who covered his crotch with

both hands. “No spanking the monkey?”

Angelica chuckled, though she felt anything but lighthearted. Foreboding

skittered through her. “That’s why I love you, Graddie.” She touched Shizaru’s head.

“His edict is ‘do no evil.’”

“Ah.” Graddie considered the monkeys then shrugged. “Why would someone

leave this with us?”

“It’s a job.” She put the statue on the desk and picked up the box. A square-cut

piece of parchment floated free. She snatched it and read the note out loud. “Four

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demons imprisoned for their sins. Let them go and chaos begins. Each has a gift you

must gain. Only then will you break evil’s chain.”

“Ooooh. I love gifts!” squealed Graddie. He clapped his hands girlishly.

“Get a grip, will ya?”

“Right. A threat has been issued in badly written rhyme. I’m supposed to be

serious.” He sighed. “Why is this shit never easy?”

Angel patted the monkeys. “If it was easy, everyone would do it.”

Chapter One

Angelica Mortis stood on the balcony of the cliff-side villa, looking at the dark

ocean below. The bejeweled night sky melted into the black waters -- diamonds falling

into rippling velvet. The slivered moon offered no light. But she didn’t need light. She

didn’t want it.

Darkness fit her like a second skin. It was her friend, her lover, her soul.

Her long, black hair was loose, its strands tickling her neck. She wore a

diaphanous gown, purple no less. She felt silly and Ancient Greek-ish in it. Underneath

she wore a cup-less purple bra and a matching thong. It was not an outfit she would

have chosen for herself.

No. He had chosen it.

She leaned against the elaborately carved marble balustrade and contemplated

the steep plunge. Maybe she could just lean over and fall down into the murky, cold

depths. Better that, than give in to the lust that beat like primitive drums inside her. Its

wanton heat spread through her like an opiate; she was an addict in withdrawal. And

her drug of choice stood behind her, probably looking at her ass.

“Angel.”

Her name so tenderly spoken made her shiver in anticipation. He was naked. At

least he had been a moment ago when he’d magically popped her into the magnificent

and lushly furnished bedroom. No easy prey, she’d scrambled off the bed and headed

for the French doors that led to the balcony.

He’d let her come out here. She could almost taste his amusement. She wasn’t

afraid of him. She could take everything he could give her and ask for more. No, the

rough stuff she could handle just fine. But the aching possibility of being vulnerable, of

feeling more than loathing and lust for this man… that scared the hell out of her.

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His hands dropped onto her shoulders. Through the thin material, she could feel

the calluses along the ridge of his palms. She wondered idly how a mage had gotten

such working man’s hands.

He leaned forward and smelled her hair. His body pressed against hers and she

stilled, not wanting to want him. Oh, but she did. Damn. Denial only got a girl so far.

He brushed his lips across her neck. Her flesh tingled. That small gesture made

her nipples hard, made her body thrum as his hands drifted down her arms.

“This outfit just isn’t me, Roc,” she said.

“Maybe it is a little,” he said.

“C’mon. Purple?”

“Violet. And it fits you.” He chuckled, his hands wandering over the curves of

her hips. “Besides, it’s my dream. I can have you any way I like.”

“You’ve made it my dream, too,” she said. “Nice of you to infiltrate my

subconscious.”

“You won’t take my calls. You bespelled your office and apartment against my

magic. And visiting you in public is rather risky. That last fireball you threw singed my

right ear.” He sounded more amused than angry. “Angel, I’ve missed you.”

“Liar.” He hadn’t exactly known her long enough to miss her. He’d shown up

two weeks ago and shoved his way into her life. Had it only been five days since he’d

appeared in her office, bent her over her own couch, and fucked her? It hadn’t been

seduction so much as domination. And she let him do it. She’d wanted him that much.

Before that little incident, she’d found the first of four magical objects that were

the only items standing between Hell’s newest high king and his bid for world

domination. Roc had shoved the spiky sun into her wrist and bound its magic within

her.

Asshole.

As if all that shit wasn’t bad enough, her best friend and business partner had

been poisoned by a demon. Graddie was still recovering from the trauma. The only

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good news was that her demon-hunting business was picking up. High King Drak was

prepping for war and he’d unleashed lower level demons to wreak all kinds of havoc.

Roc kneeled behind her and looped his fingers under the thin material clinging

to her hips. He drew the thong down so slowly that the silky lace made goosebumps

erupt on her thighs and calves. His fingertips increased the torture, those fleeting

touches making her flesh quiver and her pussy wet.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she said.

“Then why are you trembling?” His breath coasted along her buttock. He lifted

the gown and kissed the spot where his hot exhalation had puckered the skin. She

grasped the banister, her fingernails scraping against the smooth marble.

“It’s just a dream. We’ll wake up and be alone.”

“You’re only alone right now because you choose it.”

“No, you chose it when you decided to lie to me and then decided I should be

the recipient of demon gifts.”

“That was decided long ago, and not by me. And I never lied. I… omitted.”

Angel rolled her eyes. Even though anger curled in her stomach, a pit viper

waking from its sleep, that coil of fury had nothing on the ferocious lust that claimed

her. She wasn’t the kind of woman who regretted. She wouldn’t regret sex with Roc,

even though she didn’t like him all that much. It was stupid to share this dream. To

share his bed, whether real or not. But Angel didn’t often deny herself what she

wanted. What was life without risk?

Roc grasped her ankles and she allowed him to tug off her underwear. He stood

up. She felt his fingers grasped the back of the gown and then riiiiip. He tore it in two.

The material slid off her shoulders. Roc tossed it over her head and she watched it

unfurl like a violet ghost, wildly spinning toward the dark sea.

“Give me your hands.”

Her heart stuttered at the command. She would never admit that she liked it

when he took control. In dreams, we can do anything, be anyone. So, she would be Roc’s

paramour.

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She put her hands behind her back. He wound the thong around her wrists tight

enough that the material bit into her flesh. Her shoulders were bowed back, her breasts

thrust forward. The chill air rising from the roaring ocean below teased her nipples into

taut peaks. The same cold wind brushed her body like an impatient lover, its stinging

fingers tugging unmercifully on her hair.

“Turn around.”

She did as he said, slowly pivoting until she faced him. His green eyes burned

with lust, making his gaze as hard and shiny as emeralds. He cupped her face, his

thumbs sweeping her cheekbones.

“You are beautiful,” he said, his voice hoarse with longing.

“I expected better compliments.” She let her lips curve into an insolent smile.

“What’s the matter? I’m not inspiring enough?”

“You inspire me to have a hard-on every thirty seconds,” he said, his tone

annoyed. “I’ve never met a woman like you.”

“Not many have. I’m very unique.”

“Yes,” he said, his eyes gleaming with secrets. “You are one-of-a-kind.”

She opened her mouth to tell him that his flattery bordered on mundane, but he

covered her lips with his and thrust his tongue inside. She kissed him back, pressing her

breasts into the hard planes of his pectorals. Mm-mmm! The man was built.

He twined her hair into one fist and yanked. Pain zipped along her scalp and

gathered into a sharp arrow that shot into her pussy. She moaned, her eyes fluttering

shut. He pulled her head back further and feasted on her neck, his teeth scraping her

throat as his tongue flicked against her skin.

He tugged one nipple into his mouth, suckling the peak while flicking the tip

with his tongue. Pleasure wound through her, stealing her ability to think. He

tormented the other nipple in the same manner. She couldn’t sink her nails into his

shoulders, damned her bound hands. She wanted to be free so she could claw at him,

stroke him, give him the same adoration he lavished on her.

Since she couldn’t, that left tormenting him with her only available weapon.

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Her voice.

“Aren’t you gonna say something else pretty?” she asked. “C’mon, Roc. Tell me

how smart I am. That you really adore my big brain and not my --”

He yanked her hair again and the resulting agony cut off her insult. His free

hand smacked her ass. “Not.” Smack. “Another.” Smack. “Word.” Smack.

“Or what?” she challenged. She wasn’t very good at obeying rules. And she

would never be good at obeying him. Not entirely.

He spanked her again, this time harder. The delicious ache vibrated all the way

to her pussy, making her hotter, wetter. But not more cautious.

She laughed. “That all you got?”

He spun her around and bent her over the balustrade. Her belly flinched away

from the cold, smooth marble. Her breasts were offerings to the wind, which gobbled

them greedily with frozen teeth. Her hair whipped around crazily, slapping at her face,

covering her eyes.

The first blow ricocheted up her spine. She sucked in an unsteady breath, biting

her lower lip.

The next whack had her teeth sinking into her lip and drawing blood. Still, the

pain only made her moan and squirm. Cream dripped from her cunt. She felt him

swipe her labia, heard him suck the moisture from his finger.

“You are so bloody frustrating,” he cried. “The damndest woman I’ve ever met.”

His fingers bit into her hips. “Can you take more?”

“Yes.”

“Stay here,” he demanded. “I swear to God if you move a centimeter, I’ll toss

you into the ocean.”

She was tempted to disobey because it was her nature to push boundaries. Truth

be told, she really enjoyed pushing Roc’s boundaries. But she wanted him to fuck her,

so she stayed put. Her whole body quivered in anticipation.

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When he returned, she felt the soft falls of a flogger dribble across her sore ass.

Oh, God. He let her feel the tenderness of the deerskin braids, which amped up her

expectation of the pain they would give her.

She didn’t have to wait long.

The first strike made her lose her breath. The second blurred her vision. And the

third… her pussy convulsed, on the edge of orgasm.

She heard the flogger drop to the tiled floor. Roc traced the welts on her ass,

which really throbbed now, but they weren’t nearly as bad as the throbbing need in her

cunt. She needed him to fill her. Now.

He grabbed her by her bound wrists and pulled her to her feet. He turned her

around and lifted her so that her raw buttocks were pressed against the banister. The

chilled marble actually felt good against her stinging flesh.

Roc parted her thighs and guided his cock into her weeping pussy. She wrapped

her legs around his waist and drew him deeply inside her. He curled one arm around

her back and leaned the other on the railing.

She was too far gone. Her orgasm imploded, and she screamed as pleasure

rushed through her. Roc bit her shoulder and shoved deeply, shuddered. His groan of

release vibrated against her skin.

For a long moment, they remained locked together, yin and yang. Angel liked his

strength, his boldness, and hell, even his impatience. She liked that he held her close

and tried to recover, the same way she did. They were both affected by their mutual

attraction. It was, she realized, a much deeper connection than she wanted with him.

Finally, he withdrew and stepped back. He put his arms around her and took off

the thong. Her wrists tingled as the circulation returned. He dropped the undies and

they twirled away into the night.

His hands grasped her thighs, his thumbs rubbing circles. “I want to see you

tomorrow.”

“No,” she said. “I’m still pissed off at you.”

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“Graddie’s sick. You need a partner. What if the second demon object is

revealed?”

“I’ll handle it.”

“You need me,” he said. “Aren’t you afraid of falling?” His hands stroked to her

knees and massaged the dimpled flesh. “Don’t you want someone to catch you?”

“No… and no,” she said. “Especially not you.”

“You’re sure?”

She didn’t like the look in his eyes. Damn him. Just when she was starting to feel

the warm fuzzies, he had to get all Guardian on her. “I’m absolutely, positively, without

a fucking doubt sure that I don’t need you.”

“Okay.” He grabbed her calves and heaved her over the side of the balcony.

Holy hell!

She saw Roc peer over the banister, watching as she plummeted toward the

jagged rocks and icy cold sea. Angel raised her arm and flipped him the bird.

He merely grinned.

Chapter Two

Angelica bolted upright, her heart hammering in her chest. She’d woken up

before her dream self had crashed into the murky ocean.

The digital clock on her nightstand read 1:31 a.m. Terrific. She scrambled out of

her bed and stomped to her dresser. She took her cell phone off its charger and dialed a

number.

Roc picked up on the first ring.

“I’m coming to kill you,” she said. “And I won’t just throw you off a balcony. I’ll

carve my name into your balls, hack off your penis, cut your body into chunks, boil

you, feed you to alligators, and then throw what’s left of you off a balcony.”

“You’re really turning me on,” he said, laughing. “I look forward to your visit.”

He hung up. The silence in her ear infuriated her. She punched his number

again, but stopped short of hitting send. Oh, no. No way. He wasn’t going to get the

best of her.

Now she would have to ask Mrs. P for a spell to keep Roc out of her dreams and

out of her subconscious. She was too angry to try and sleep again. Restless, she paced

around the bedroom. What to do? Thanks to new liquor laws, Dusky’s was now a

twenty-four-hour booze joint. She’d probably enjoy it more if Graddie were around to

carouse with her, but he was still laid up at the compound. She suspected getting

fawned over by Mrs. P was the real reason his recovery had been so slow.

Her parents had been secretive of late, calling her every other day, but eschewing

any plans that involved actually seeing her. She was getting tired of their “we’ll talk

soon, we promise” speeches.

Truth be told, she was… well, kinda lonely. Oh, to hell with it. She’d take a

shower and go have a drink. Maybe she’d pick up a hot guy and fuck him, just to get

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Roc out of her head. Out of her heart. Blech! The very idea that Roc might’ve wormed

his way into her emotions, especially the ooey gooey kind she liked to avoid, just made

her more determined.

She nearly always slept in the nude, but for some reason, she’d gone to bed in

her underwear. Wait a minute. No, she hadn’t. She took off the thong and looked at the

purple lace. “That rat bastard!”

He’d somehow managed to put that damned thong on her for real. Seething, she

marched into her bathroom, balled up the panties and threw them into the sink. She

pointed one finger at them; fire shot out and engulfed the lace. In seconds the reminder

of the best sex she’d ever had was a pile of chunky soot.

She washed the singed bits down the sink, wishing it were the fried remains of

Roc’s balls.

* * *

Daniel Montrose strolled down the trash-filled street and grimaced. He’d never

been to this section of downtown. He rarely ventured into the downtown area at all,

preferring the family mansion on the outskirts of town. The Montrose Estate butted

against a very large, pristine lake. They had a rather nice yacht moored at the pier,

which was where he spent most of his time.

He was just shy of twenty-two, the only son of Juliette and Thomas Montrose. He

had forever disappointed his mother by dropping out of college to pursue art -- at least

until his gallery opening last month. Critics had loved his work, or more likely, his

father’s money, and suddenly, Juliette had a son who set their little social circle abuzz.

The only thing he could do to shine more was to get engaged to the “right” girl. Then he

and his perfect wife could set about creating the perfect grandchildren.

His mother really did make his head ache.

She kept throwing women at him. Debutantes. Divorcees. Deborahs. Good lord,

there were a lot of Deborahs. He didn’t want to date. Quite frankly, he’d never wanted

to date. Women were strange creatures, not easily pleased and very difficult to

decipher. The few times he’d been pushed into taking one on a night out were the most

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miserable minutes of his life. No, all he wanted to do was paint. He wanted to sit on his

boat and look at the sun sparkling on the water and translate dreams to canvas.

The only other love in his life was music. And that was why he found himself

walking into a rather seedy bar called Dusky’s. He collected unusual musical pieces.

Things most people didn’t know existed, much less listened to for pleasure. It amused

him to know how to play the harpsichord, the pan flute, the Xaphoon, and kalimba.

He’d even had an Aeolian wind harp made based on ancient Greek texts.

Why the seller wanted to do business in this place was beyond Daniel’s

comprehension. He had dressed casually. Rather, he’d followed his stylist’s suggestions

for “casual.” She’d gone to Rock & Republic and brought him jeans with the odd name

of Chaos Blue Bruise, a Clint Sweater with gray snakeskin print, and a vintage fleece

zip-up. She’d also gotten him Didz leather ankle boots. All the same, when he walked

into the dimly lit, smoke-filled bar, he felt decidedly overdressed.

The acrid smoke stung his nostrils. It smelled like old sweat socks and stale

perfume. He couldn’t help but feel as though the stench of the place was soaking into

his clothes, into his skin. He couldn’t wait to finish his transaction so he could go home

and shower.

The jukebox music blared loudly. He didn’t know the song, only that the

clanging and screeching wasn’t enjoyable.

His gaze roved over the patrons, looking for his contact. Three pool tables in the

corner all had games going. The bar was at the back and every stool was filled. Tiny

circular tables with vinyl chairs were strewn from the door to the bar. To the right was a

small stage with a microphone and a single stool. Apparently, the musician was on

break, or had left altogether. Too bad. He was curious about what kind of person would

play in a joint like Dusky’s. Probably the kind that clanged and screeched.

“Dude, move your ass,” came a husky female voice behind him. He turned and

blinked down at the woman glaring up at him. She was dressed in white leather from

head to toe. The halter-top showed off her slightly muscled abs and the belly button

pierced with a diamond. Her pants looked painted on. Her calf boots had three-inch

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heels so thin and sharp, she probably could’ve sliced tomatoes with them. Her black

hair was plaited in a French braid, the tail of it swinging to her mid-back.

“Take a picture,” she snapped. “It’ll last longer.”

She sauntered around him. He noticed that the crowd parted for her: a white

shark swimming among its terrified prey. A seat at the bar was vacated hastily, and she

didn’t even have to ask. Raw power, barely leashed, pulsed from her. It wasn’t any

wonder no one messed with her.

He walked past the stage and dared to go into the darkest recesses. Vinyl booths

lined the back wall and most were crowded with people drinking, kissing, smoking,

laughing. He turned and headed in the other direction. Was a rare Chinese koudi really

worth all this trouble?

Daniel rounded the bar and scanned the area beyond the pool tables. If his

contact was here, he wasn’t exactly trying to make himself known. He’d only met the

man once, and though he hadn’t been impressed with his smarmy behavior, he had

coveted the object in the pictures.

As he walked to the last space he could possibly look for the seller, his boot hit

the leg of an empty chair. He tripped and smacked into something… no, someone big

and solid.

“No need to fall on your face, boyo,” said a man’s lyrical Irish voice in his ear.

Big hands grabbed his shoulders and righted him. “I’ll be happy to give you me phone

number.”

Daniel gaped at the guy, his face hot with embarrassment.

Big blue eyes stared down into his. The man was three or four inches taller than

Daniel, a muscular brute who barely fit into his button-down blue shirt and faded

Levis. He wore scuffed brown cowboy boots. His hair was an alarming shade of red

and cut short with the top spiky. Freckles smattered a nose that looked as though it had

been broken once or twice. It gave character to a face that was already beautiful.

Daniel’s throat felt unaccountably dry. He licked his lips, unable to stop staring.

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“Well, now. Aren’t you a bit of sugar that needs licking?” asked the man in a low

voice. With the jukebox belching out that awful clamor, no one else could hear the

conversation. “Trust me, Sean O’Houlihan knows how to make a man feel good.”

Daniel swallowed the knot in his throat. “Are you… propositioning me?”

Sean winked. “Sure, that I am. You’re cute and single, I hope. How about I buy

you a round and you tell me all your woes?”

Intrigued, and then horrified because he was intrigued, Daniel shook his head.

“I’m meeting someone.”

“Oh.” Sean looked genuinely disappointed. “Well, now, my loss, I’m sure. I’ll be

around a while, if’n you change your mind.”

He smacked Daniel on the back so hard he nearly stumbled again. Then Sean

went on his way, looking for all the world like a man who knew his destiny.

Daniel envied him. But he wasn’t attracted to him. How could he be? No. He had

to marry the perfect woman so he could breed the perfect grandchildren. He wouldn’t

think about those days in high school when he’d secretly lusted after his best friend,

Roderick. Or that first and only year of college when he’d shared a disappointing kiss

with a journalism major named Dorian. Looking at men, thinking about men was just a

phase -- a normal part of exploring his sexual identity. Well, that’s what his therapist

had told him. Daniel had had sex with women, but never found the encounters all that

thrilling. He always figured he hadn’t met the right woman.

Maybe he just hadn’t met the right man.

Dear lord. If he dared to bring home a boyfriend, Mother would hang herself.

Unnerved by the encounter with the mysterious Sean, he hurried toward the

pool tables, bypassing them to weave through the tables. Then he spotted the guy with

his koudi. Relief was short-lived. He was anxious to pay the man and get out of this

place. He sat at the table.

“Would you like a beer?” asked the guy. “I’m buying.”

“No, thanks. Just show me the koudi.”

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The man, who had GQ looks, but Wal-Mart style, might’ve been attractive had

his eyes not been so empty. Right now avarice made them gleam like two shiny

pennies. He put a small box on the table and opened it. Nestled in red silk was the small

Chinese flute. Like most koudis, it was made from bamboo. However, this one had a tiny

monkey carved at the top.

“May I?” asked Daniel.

“Of course.”

He picked it up and examined it. “I’ve never seen one like this.”

“Made by the dizi master Yu Xun Fa himself. It’s one of the oldest and rarest.”

“Why is the monkey holding its ears like that?”

“Kikazaru,” said the man. “Y’know, ‘hear no evil.’”

“An odd addition to a flute.” Especially considering how difficult it must’ve been

to carve such a tiny figure onto the small surface. Daniel studied the piece. He wanted

it. The flute was unusual enough for his collection, but there was something else about

the instrument. He felt an undefined longing that he knew would only be satisfied by

owning the koudi. “I’ll take it.”

The man closed the box and turned the clasp. “It’s yours for the more than fair

price of fifty grand.”

Daniel glared at the smirking swindler. “We agreed on twenty-five thousand.”

“My price has doubled.”

“No, your greed has doubled. I don’t deal with people who go back on their

word. Good luck selling it on eBay.” Daniel rose, but the man made a sit-down gesture.

Daniel refused to take his seat. However, he didn’t walk away, waiting for the jerk’s

next move.

“Forty grand,” he offered.

“Twenty-five, as agreed.”

“I didn’t figure you for a hard ass,” he groused. “All right, already. Twenty-five

thousand.”

Chapter Three

Daniel slammed into something hard and immovable, which turned out to be the

luscious Sean. How the hell had he gotten over here so fast? The man grabbed him by

the arm and hustled him out of the way of the fight. It seemed as though everyone else

in the bar had gone clear to the other side of the building, leaving Sean and Daniel alone

in the dimly lit corner watching the White Lady beat the living hell out of the asshole

swindler.

The table tipped over, and the box housing the valuable koudi slid toward the

grimy floor. Daniel shouted, jumping forward, but Sean got there first and scooped the

box out of harm’s way. “Yours?” he asked as he handed it over.

“Yes.” Daniel clutched the box, relieved that the koudi was safe. He glanced at the

fighting pair and noted the White Lady had punctured several vital spots on the

swindler with her dagger-like heels. She also had an impressive right hook. He tore his

gaze away from the spectacle and looked at Sean. “Thank you.”

“Oh, sure an’ you’re welcome. But y’know, there’s a better way to thank me.”

Daniel swallowed the sudden knot in his throat. “I suppose a reward is in order.

The koudi is very valuable.”

“Is it now?” Sean’s blue eyes dropped to half-mast. The steamy look he issued

nearly melted Daniel’s pants off. He felt his cock stir, and hastily stepped away. Sean

merely grinned and stalked him until his back hit the wall. In this spot, the light bulbs

had burned out. It was so dark, Daniel could barely see Sean.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Taking my reward.” He placed his hands on either side of Daniel’s face and

leaned close.

“I was thinking more along the lines of money,” said Daniel in a rush.

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Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

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“Now, what do I need money for?” asked Sean, chuckling. “No, boyo. I want

you.”

His lips covered Daniel’s and the koudi he’d been clutching fell from his nerveless

fingers. The kiss was tender. Sean’s slow exploration of Daniel’s mouth seemed as if he

were mapping it for future reference: licking the corners, tasting the plump curve of his

bottom lip, outlining the thin arch of his upper lip.

Then he thrust his tongue into Daniel’s mouth.

Daniel moaned. He clutched at Sean’s shoulders, and accepted the sweet

violation. His cock was hard, pressing painfully against his jeans. Sean pushed close,

rubbing his own hard-on against Daniel’s.

Intense pleasure sparked. He grabbed at Sean’s hips and thrust frantically,

reaching for that glittering bliss.

“Hey, now,” said Sean as he pulled back. “Let’s not go off too soon.”

Daniel was too desperate to care about location. Or what his therapist might

think of his sexual identity now. Or what his parents might do if they found out he’d

made out with a complete stranger in a downtown bar.

“Please,” Daniel said, his voice breaking. “I don’t know… I haven’t ever… God,

I’m an idiot.”

“No,” said Sean. “You’re delicious. I want to savor you.”

“Why are all the good-looking men either gay or assholes?” asked an irked

female. A hand was thrust between them. In her bloodstained fingers was the koudi’s

box. “This yours?”

“Yes,” Daniel said.

“Mind if I take a look inside?”

“Not at all.” He did, a little, but since she’d rescued it from the floor, she

deserved a peek.

She undid the clasp and opened the lid. “Huh. It looks like a weird whistle.”

“It’s a Chinese bamboo flute. It’s called a koudi.”

“Yeah. That’s terrific. Well, here you go.”

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Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

- 23 -

Daniel couldn’t quite bring himself to take the box, so Sean accepted it. He

turned to face the woman and in doing so, shielded Daniel from her. “You certainly

know how to kick ass, love. What happened to the fella?”

“Demon,” she said. In her other hand, she revealed an obsidian prism. “Tucked

his sulfur-loving ass in here. He nearly killed a friend of mine. You’re lucky, dude. He

probably would’ve hurt you, too. Or worse.”

Demons. Of course his parents had their home and property bespelled against

such creatures. All the same, he’d never knowingly met a demon. And here, he’d nearly

made a bargain with one. Daniel shuddered. He pulled out the money and thrust it over

Sean’s shoulder. “Here. For your trouble.”

“Seriously?” She took the envelope. “Thanks. Oh! I’m Angelica Mortis.” She

somehow produced a card, which Sean took and pocketed. “If you need a demon

hunter, I’m your girl.” She saluted them and sashayed off.

With the fight over, people were resuming their places, which meant Sean and

Daniel’s private spot wouldn’t be private much longer.

“C’mon,” said Sean. “Let’s get out of here.”

Heart pounding and thoughts swirling, Daniel followed Sean out of the bar.

“Where’s your car then?” asked Sean.

“Over there.” He pointed to the silver Mercedes.

Sean whistled. “Nice wheels, boyo.” He slung an arm around Daniel’s shoulders

and kissed his neck. “You don’t seem the type to go slummin’.”

“I wasn’t. This was the only place that moron would meet me to sell the koudi.

He said he used to be a bartender here and that the location was safe.”

“Wrong about that, he was.”

Daniel’s neck still tingled where Sean’s lips had grazed his skin. He was so

nervous that he could barely tug the keys out of his front pocket. He clicked off the

alarm. “Would you like to drive?”

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Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

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“Bloody hell,” said Sean, grinning. He took the keys and slid into the driver’s

side. He adjusted the seat and put on his seatbelt. Daniel got settled as Sean started the

car. He caressed the steering wheel. “Purrs like a kitten, she does.”

He looked at Daniel. “Where are we going, then?”

If Daniel had more courage, he would take Sean to his yacht on the lake, show

him yesterday’s portrait, and take the Meridian out to a secluded cove. Instead, he said,

“How about a hotel? The Grand Mark? It’s just a few blocks away.”

“All right,” said Sean. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Daniel felt so self-conscious checking into the hotel, he booked two suites. What

did it matter? He could afford it. His trust fund had kicked in a year ago, and that

didn’t include inheritances from his grandparents or money gifted to him by his

parents. He was wealthy, and would be for the rest of his life.

Sean said nothing, simply took his room key and followed Daniel into the

elevator. They stood a foot apart. Sean was relaxed, leaning against the back wall.

Daniel felt tense. He fought the urge to shift from foot to foot, like an impatient boy

waiting in line at the candy store.

“You can change your mind,” said Sean. His Irish accent was so damned sexy.

“No.” Daniel shyly reached out and took Sean’s hand. “I want this. I want…

you.”

“Now that’s what a man likes to hear.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Sean led Daniel into the hallway. He

waved his room key. “Your place or mine?”

Daniel laughed. “Whichever one’s closest.”

It turned out to be Sean’s. He shut and locked the door behind them, then wasted

no time dragging Daniel through the luxurious living room with its fully stocked bar,

flat screen television, and overstuffed furniture. The French doors that led to the

bedroom were open in invitation. Sean pulled Daniel inside and let go of his hand.

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Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

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“Will you look at this?” He looked around the room. The king-sized bed was

dressed in golds and browns. A mountain of pillows lodged against the mahogany

headboard. Sean walked to the right side of the room and opened the heavy brocade

curtains. “The view’s spectacular.”

Daniel joined Sean at the floor-to-ceiling window. He looked at the city, which

looked so small from forty stories up. Anticipation thrummed in his belly. He’d had no

idea that buying the koudi would lead to such a life-altering night.

Sean’s hands slid across his buttocks. “Before the night is done, me darlin’

Daniel, my cock will be buried in that sweet virgin ass of yours.”

Daniel almost swallowed his tongue. Sean’s fingers wiggled over his hips and

undid his jeans. He pushed the jeans and his black silk boxers down to his knees. His

lips brushed Daniel’s neck as he stroked his cock, which was already responding to

Sean’s seduction.

“C’mon then, out of your clothes. I want you naked.”

“You, too,” said Daniel as he divested himself of shoes, socks, jeans, boxers, shirt,

and jacket. Sean did the same, and within moments, they were naked and in each

other’s arms.

Sean really was a brute -- a gorgeous, muscular brute. Daniel couldn’t stop

touching the ropey contours of the man’s chest and belly. His thighs were like tree

trunks, strong and unyielding. And his cock was long and thick. It curved a little at the

tip. Daniel’s heart raced as he thought about Sean’s earlier promise. Could his ass take

that big cock? Would he like it?

Sean seemed to read his thoughts. “You’ll like it. I promise.”

Then he kissed him. Daniel felt his whole body rage with desperate, aching need.

Sean’s tongue dueled with his, his hands stroking Daniel’s shaft with rough, quick

strokes. Daniel’s knees nearly buckled.

“Daniel,” murmured Sean. “Suck my cock.”

“W-what?”

“You heard me, boyo. Put that sweet mouth on my cock. Taste me.”

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Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

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Even though he was more than a little nervous, Daniel knelt in front of Sean. His

hands trembled as he grasped his lover’s penis. Licking his lips, he slowly lowered his

mouth onto the large cock. The musky scent intoxicated him and his own cock twitched

in response.

“Oh, yes,” gasped Sean. “You feel so good.”

Excited, Daniel licked Sean’s shaft from base to tip, tasting and sucking and

enjoying the velvety feel of his hard-on. Pleasure cascaded through him with every

touch, lick, and moan.

He savored the feel and the taste and the scent of Sean’s cock. He’d never been

more turned on in his life. He played with Sean’s balls, squeezing them lightly as he

suckled Sean’s length. Desire burned through him, stoking the flames of his own need

higher and higher.

“Oh, damn.” Sean yanked his cock out of Daniel’s mouth and dragged him to his

feet. “Sinful lips, you have there.”

He devoured Daniel’s mouth, thrusting his tongue inside. Daniel grabbed his

shoulders and returned the kiss with enthusiasm. Lust sizzled through every inch of

him.

Sean stopped kissing him, and pulled back. His blue eyes were glazed. “I want

you now. No more waitin’, Daniel. What’s it to be?”

Daniel walked to the bed and leaned down, offering his ass.

Sean sucked in a sharp breath. Daniel heard the rasp of clothing, and then Sean

said, “I have a condom and some lube. Do you trust me?”

It was unreasonable and probably damned stupid, but yes, Daniel trusted him.

He never wanted anyone the way he wanted Sean.

“Yes,” said Daniel. “I haven’t been sure of much in my life, Sean. But this… this I

know I want more than anything.”

Daniel felt the tip of the lubricant edge into his ass and the cold, thick gel filled

him. Sean pushed his finger into the puckered star. Daniel gasped. The sensation was

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both uncomfortable and thrilling. His heart nearly pounded out of his chest. He

clenched the soft bedding in his fists.

Sean worked a second finger into Daniel’s asshole. Oh, God. He wasn’t sure if he

could take his lover’s cock. He wanted it inside him badly, but even this intrusion hurt.

“Don’t clench,” said Sean. “Relax.”

Sean kept rimming the tight hole with those two fingers and used his other hand

to stroke Daniel’s buttocks. Daniel tried to relax, but he couldn’t stop being scared. And

excited. Those two emotions twined so tightly inside him, he quivered.

Sean continued to plunge his fingers into his ass. Then he said, “Stop worrying.

You’ll like my cock in your ass, Daniel. Just think about how you like kissing me. And

stroking my cock. Think about everything that turns you on.”

Daniel closed his eyes and thought about Sean’s lips caressing his. About Sean’s

cock, so warm and hard in his mouth, his tongue sliding along the velvety ridges. He

thought about Sean’s hands on his cock, stroking and stroking.

He panted, wanting relief from the sensual torment.

Sean removed his fingers and fitted the tip of his shaft against Daniel’s anus.

“Push back, darlin’. Take me in.”

Daniel did as his lover asked. Sean parted Daniel’s cheeks and worked his cock

deeper and deeper until he was fully seated in Daniel’s hot, tight channel. It burned like

hell, but he felt excited, too. And turned on. He liked that Sean was part of him, taking

his virginity. He liked that he could give Sean pleasure. Experimentally, he squeezed

his inner muscles.

Sean groaned. “Daniel… I’m trying to be patient.”

Daniel squeezed again.

Sean pulled out and slid in. Daniel knew his lover was going slow, trying to

make his first time good. And it was. Pre-come dripped from his own penis, which was

hard and aching.

Sean took another stroke. And another. He was breathing harshly, his fingers

digging into Daniel’s hips. Sweat dripped onto Daniel’s ass.

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“Fuck me!” yelled Daniel. “Please!”

Sean lost control. Daniel cried out as Sean slammed into his tender ass over and

over. He grabbed at the bed cover, his knees banging against the bed as he tried to meet

every stroke of Sean’s big cock. He drew in, squeezed. Sean thrust faster and harder, his

groans getting louder and louder.

Pleasure raced down Daniel’s spine, through his belly, into his shaft.

“Daniel!” Sean thrust hard and deep. “I’m coming. Oh! Yes!”

His thighs quaked against Daniel’s as he emptied his seed. His fingernails sank

into Daniel’s ass, and he stood there for the longest moment.

“Jay-sus.” Sean withdrew and lightly slapped Daniel’s ass. “That was amazin’.”

Daniel collapsed forward on the bed, his cock so hard he could probably use it as

a hammer. Sean disappeared, probably to get rid of the condom. Then he returned,

rolled Daniel onto his back and crawled between his legs.

The first touch of Sean’s tongue on his cock was almost too much to bear. Daniel

arched, panting, squeezing his eyes shut. “Sean. Wow. Whoa. Oh… God!”

Sean sucked Daniel all the way down to his balls, until the tip of his cock

brushed the back of his throat. Sean was relentless in his pleasuring. His tongue slid

over the sensitive spot under the ridge of his head. Daniel couldn’t stop himself from

thrusting into the warm cave of Sean’s mouth.

Then it was too much.

“I’m coming,” he cried out. “Sean!”

The orgasm burst bright and hot and his seed spurted down Sean’s throat. Sean

swallowed every drop, and then soothed Daniel’s softening cock with laps of his

tongue.

Later, after they’d showered together, Sean spooned with Daniel on the king-

sized bed.

“It’s been a long time for me,” said Sean sleepily. “I’ve never felt like this with

another lover, Danny. Sounds like a line, I know, but I swear it’s the truth.”

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Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

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“I’m glad we met,” said Daniel, covering Sean’s brawny arms with his own.

“You’ve changed my life.”

Sean hugged him, his lips brushing the back of Daniel’s neck. An arrow of lust

wiggled straight to his cock, but they were both tired. And they had plenty of time to

explore. Plenty of time to get to know each other.

Daniel knew that even if Sean wasn’t interested in furthering the relationship, he

had at least given Daniel a gift. He knew that he had to tell his parents he was gay. That

he had to live his life the way he wanted, no matter what others thought. Only then

could he be happy. Only then could he feel alive.

Chapter Four

“No. Fucking. Way,” said Graddie as he examined the pair of sassy silver heels.

“Ferragamos. In my size.” He looked in the second shoe box and squealed. “Jimmy

Choo. And pink! Oh, honey, what did you do? Hold up an Orange County housewife at

knife point?”

“Let’s just say that Mrs. Pottersworth knows a few shoe elves in the right places,

and they put a rush on the orders. Still cost me five thousand bucks,” said Angel.

“And where did we get five thousand bucks?” asked Graddie. “Hmm?”

“Bartender boy showed up at Dusky’s. I kicked his demon ass and stuck him in a

pain prism. The guy with him was so glad about my good deed, he handed me an

envelope stuffed with cash.”

Graddie sat up, his plumped pillows falling to the wayside. His Highness was

shored up in a king-sized bed, waited on hand and foot. Even though he looked a

helluva lot better than he had a week ago, he was still too pale. And he tried to hide the

way his hands occasionally trembled. Mrs. P had saved him, but that evil bastard Drak

still had a hold on him.

“You have a visitor, dearie,” said Mrs. P as she bustled in with a tray. Steam rose

from the chicken soup. Angel knew from experience that the pot of tea was chamomile

sweetened with raw honey.

“Oooh!” said Graddie as he accepted the tray. “Who is it? Did they bring me

prezzies, too?”

“Oh, he’s not here for you, love. The visitor’s for Angel.”

“Shit! Don’t tell me!” Angel leapt off the bed, digging a dagger out from the slot

on her boot. She stomped toward the doorway.

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Roc entered the room with his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I have news

about Kikazaru.”

“Is that a new kind of dessert?” asked Graddie. “Or is it a type of sushi?”

“It’s one of the monkeys, numb nuts.” Angel held the dagger by the tip of the

blade. One well-aimed throw and her personal nemesis would have a fatal heart

problem. “This better be good.”

Roc brought his palms together and in a show-off puff of gold sparks, produced

a piece of a paper. He presented it to Angel, leaning close enough to whisper, “Miss

me?”

“Just your penis,” she hissed. “But I can buy one of those in a bigger size.”

She snatched the paper out of his hand and looked at the sketch. She frowned.

“What is this?”

“One of our researchers unearthed it. We’ve been trying to find out everything

we can about the demon vessels. None of them are the same, and some have switched

containers over the years. It makes it difficult to pinpoint where they are and who has

them.”

“This is some kind of Chinese flute, right?” asked Angel. “What the hell did that

guy call it? A kudos? Kiddie? Kud?”

“Koudi,” said Roc. “This is probably the only one made with a monkey carved on

it.”

“I saw one of these the other night. This guy had it. Shit. It can’t be a

coincidence.” Frustration roared through Angel. She hadn’t really seen their faces that

well and hadn’t asked for their names. Why would she? She was bleeding, tired, and

pissed. She hadn’t really been listening to the guy explain about the flute. Hell, she

didn’t care about that kind of crap.

“I’ll go back to Dusky’s and ask questions. Maybe somebody knows who they

were.” Angel dropped her dagger into its slot. “I’ll came back later, Graddie.”

“Okay, sweets. I love you.”

“I love you, too. Now get well so I can stop hanging out with this loser.”

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Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

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“Will do.” Graddie winked at Roc, who grinned.

“That is so wrong,” muttered Angel. “C’mon.”

* * *

They were in Roc’s luxurious black BMW on their way to Dusky’s when Angel’s

phone rang.

“Mortis.”

“You’re the demon hunter?” asked an Irish-tinged voice. “The one we met in the

bar?”

“Yeah,” said Angel. Okay. This was a big-ass coincidence. “What do you need?”

“My companion played that flute, and something… something bad came out of

it. It hurt Daniel. I’m locked in the bathroom, but whatever that thing is, it’s strong.

You’ve got to come and help us.” He gave her the hotel name and room number then

hung up.

“First, we need to find a flute that I happen to see three days ago. Then we need

to find the guys who had the flute, and they call me on the phone. This whole thing

reeks.”

“You think you’re being set-up?”

“Duh.” Angel gave him the information. “Let’s get this over with.”

* * *

The neat thing about having a mage as a partner was that little things like locked

hotel rooms were taken care of with a couple of fancy words and a blast of magic. Roc

entered the room first, his staff at the ready. Angel followed. She had her Glock with its

special silver, Wiccan-blessed bullets in place and a couple extra cartridges.

The first thing they found was a naked man lying unconscious on the huge bed.

He had short brown hair, an athletic frame, and bruises all over his tanned body. He

was still breathing, though, which meant the demon was around. The demons could

only be released by the people who opened their vessels. And those unlucky people had

to be sacrificed, along with the demon, to unlock the gift.

The gift Angel needed to defeat Drak.

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Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

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Angel spied the box that housed the flute on the nightstand. The lid was open;

the koudi was gone. Roc checked out the rest of the hotel suite and returned to the

bedroom. He shook his head. No flute. No demon. No red-haired lover. Terrific.

Roc stationed himself by the bed and nodded toward her.

She walked to the closed bathroom door and knocked. “Hello?”

The door cracked open and one blue eye stared at her in terror. “Are you…

you?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“Where’s Daniel?”

“Unconscious, but alive. Where’s the flute?”

“I have it.” He opened the door and stepped out. A white cotton towel was

wrapped around his waist. The man looked like an oak tree. His fiery red hair stuck up

and he had a few bruises himself.

“What happened… er, what’s your name?”

“Sean O’Houlihan.” He grimaced. “I asked Daniel to play the damned koudi. This

dark smoke starting pouring out of the pipe and it turns into the ugliest bastard I’d ever

laid me eyes on.”

“Did you… uh… well, have sex with it?”

“Why the bloody hell would I do that? I’m in love with Danny. We’ve spent the

last three days in this room gettin’ to know each other.”

“TMI, dude. Well, if it didn’t want to fuck you, what did it want?”

He shook his head. “It kept telling Danny to play a song. He did twice. Wouldn’t

do it a third time and the thing went berserk.”

“The flute, please.” She made a gimme gesture. Sean put the tiny bamboo

instrument into her hand. “Roc!”

She tossed the koudi to him at the same time she aimed the gun at Sean’s massive

chest. She emptied the entire clip into him, and darted backward. She slammed another

full clip into the gun and reached for a prism in the pouch on her hip.

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Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

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Sean roared, furious. Demons couldn’t die… well, mostly, but they could feel

pain. The bullets wormed out of his chest and plunked to the carpet. Sean seemed to

split in two, his flesh falling away to reveal a blue, scaly demon with a huge horn

jutting out of his bald head. He was at least seven feet tall, with black eyes and a scarred

face. Angel curled her lips in disgust. Ew.

“You must think I’m an idiot,” she said, aiming the gun at the demon. “Where’s

the real Sean?”

The demon lunged for her and she shot him fifteen times. Every round pierced

his chest and stomach. He fell to his knees and growled at her, revealing sharp,

blackened teeth. Yuck. Demons really needed a dental plan.

The second spray of bullets so soon after the first slowed him down

considerably. Pure silver was poisonous to most supernatural beings, but Wiccan-

blessed silver tripled the threat. Black blood oozed from his wounds as the bullets

slipped out of the holes and fell wetly to the carpet.

Angel loaded her last clip. “Oh, Ro-oc? How are you doing over there?”

“He’s awake, but not exactly in the mood to play the flute.”

“Too fucking bad.” She raised the Glock and pulled the trigger. Boom! Boom!

Two shots straight to the demon’s forehead. His eyes rolled up as if he could see the

new holes in his skull then his gaze zeroed in on her.

“Bitch!” he screamed, spittle flying. “I will rend the flesh from your bones!”

“Better demons than you have tried.” She plugged five rounds into his chest, and

then three into his groin. He screamed and clutched his genitals.

Music filled the air.

Two beams of gold light shot out from the koudi. One encompassed the demon.

As soon as the light hit him, he writhed and howled, unable to escape. The bullets were

the least of his worries now.

The second spear of light enveloped Daniel. The flute fell from his hands and he

slumped backward, his body buoyed by the golden beam. He rose about a foot off the

bed.

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Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

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“Danny!” The real Sean O’Houlihan limped out of the bathroom. His face was

battered, his body bruised. “What’s happening?”

“I’m sorry,” said Angel, her heart breaking. “There’s nothing we can do.” She

drew him into the living room, knowing the only reason she could was because he was

so injured. She was glad for the excuse to let the heinous beams do their work without

them watching. She thought about that last time she’d seen the vessel do its work. A

woman named Emily had died, the very life sucked out of her body.

“What happened, Sean?”

“I was knocked out. As I was coming to, I could hear that bastard talking. He

mostly told the truth. Except he tried to hurt Danny and when that didn’t work, he

whaled on me. Nearly broke me boyo, he did. But Daniel’s a strong one. He knew

playing the flute a third time would mean our deaths. That monster wanted it so much,

y’see.” Tears filled Sean’s eyes. “He’s a smart one, he is. My Danny.”

She couldn’t bear to tell him the truth. That his Danny had been sacrificed for the

greater good. So that Drak could be defeated. So that the four planes of existence could

be free from tyranny. Balance, my ass. This sucks! Instead, she smiled. “And the demon

got the bright idea to call me because he found my card in your pocket.”

Sean nodded then flinched. She was sure every inch of him ached. “He seemed

keen on getting you here. I guess your family isn’t well-liked by Hell’s minions.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

From the bedroom, she heard the blue demon intone, “Fifty years ago, a

prophecy uttered by the sage Orana shook the foundations of Hell. My demon brothers

and I were among those who believed Orana. We stole the four gifts from Abatu, and

sealed our fates. We became guardians of the objects, trapped within their vessels until

our keystones released us.”

It was the same last words she’d heard from the first demon who’d died to give

her the gift embedded in her right wrist.

Moments later, it was all over. She didn’t want to go into the bedroom, but she

knew it was necessary.

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Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

- 36 -

The flute floated above the prone body of Daniel. Sean rushed to his side and

drew his limp body into his arms. He pressed his face against Daniel’s chest and wept.

“I’m sorry,” said Angel. “God, I’m so sorry.”

Sean looked up. He pressed his ear against Daniel’s chest, and his eyes went

wide. “He’s alive. I can hear his heartbeat!”

Angel’s gaze met Roc’s. He shrugged. “The demon is a pile of ash. We don’t

know what sacrifice Daniel had to make, only that it wasn’t his life force.”

The beams of light gone, the flute cracked open. A small bronze object was

revealed. Angel reached for it. It was two inches long and about an inch wide. Small

metal nubs surrounded the outside. When she shook it, a tiny bell rang.

“What is this?”

“A miniature Zhong bell,” said Roc. He rounded the bed and held onto her left

wrist. “Are you ready?”

“No.”

He pressed the object into her flesh. It went white-hot, the tiny nubs piercing her

flesh like dull blades. Angel bit her lip to keep from crying, but it was damned hard.

The bell sank into her wrist, its strange protuberances showing just beneath her skin.

When it was over, she looked at Roc. “I really hate you.”

“Do you?” he asked. “I don’t think so.”

He walked her to the bathroom and wrapped a hand towel around her newest

wound.

“I don’t like these new accessories,” she complained, unnerved by Roc’s gentle

manner. She could deal with him better when he was throwing her off balconies. “Can’t

I just get my tongue pierced?”

Roc laughed. Then he drew her into his arms and kissed her until her knees went

weak. “You may not believe it, Angel, but I will always be there to catch you when you

fall.”

“You’re right,” she replied softly. “I don’t believe it.”

Then she punched him in the stomach.

Chapter Five

One week later…

“More lemonade, Sean?” asked Juliette Montrose. She’d brought a fresh pitcher

on her way back from giving the cook instructions for dinner. They had walked down

to the pier and boarded the yacht. They sat on the comfy seating that lined the backside

of the boat and observed niceties.

“I suppose it was the hardest thing my son has ever done,” she mused, “other

than losing his hearing, of course. And well, that terrible fight you both barely escaped

from. I swear to God if I ever find those hooligans… well, it wouldn’t be pleasant.”

Sean smiled. They’d lied to the Montroses about what had happened. It was bad

enough to show up at their door battered and bruised. It would’ve been worse to tell

them they’d nearly met their ends from a demon attack. “You were saying something

about Danny?”

“Oh, yes. I so easily lose track. When Daniel told me what I already knew deep

down. That he was gay. That must’ve been very difficult for him. I’m afraid I put a lot

of pressure on him to find the right girl.” Her gaze met his. He saw no judgment in her

eyes, only love for her son. “I had so hoped for grandchildren.”

Sean cleared his throat. “Danny and I were talking about that, Mrs. Montrose.

Y’see, we can get married in Hawaii. And we were thinking that maybe after a year,

maybe two, we could adopt.”

Juliette’s smile nearly blinded him. “Why, yes! Of course! I know several people

who might be of help with adoptions, especially if you consider looking outside of the

U.S.” She paused, her hands fluttering like birds. “Oh, my. I do try to take over, don’t I?

Well. When you and Daniel are ready, I would love to help.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Montrose.”

Michele Bardsley

Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

- 38 -

She sighed. “Really, dear. I’m going to be your mother-in-law. You should call

me Juliette.”

Later, after Juliette had gone back to the house, Sean found Daniel on the other

side of the boat, painting. He kissed his neck, his hands wandering over the smooth

ridges of his stomach. He was rewarded with a tell-tale bulge in Daniel’s shorts.

“How are the new ears?” he asked.

“I’m lucky to be a millionaire,” said Daniel, grinning. The sacrifice had been his

hearing. He’d gone deaf and no doctor could figure out the cause. But for enough

money, the doctors had figured out a way to fix it. Of course, the hearing aids were

temporary until he had the corrective surgery. Nanotechnology was involved. He

didn’t care how it worked, only that it would work.

“I like your mother,” said Sean. “How long are you going to let her think I’m a

poor sap from the wrong side of the tracks?”

“Until she figures out you’re the famous Irish singer Sean O’Houlihan, who’s not

only met the queen of England, but also Pierce Brosnan.”

“Which do you think will impress her more?”

“Pierce,” said Daniel. “Definitely.” He put down his brushes and turned into

Sean’s embrace. “Why were you in Dusky’s that night?”

“I played there once, a long time ago. I needed a break and snuck out of my

hotel. Walked all the way.” Sean looked into Daniel’s eyes. “But I think the real reason I

was there was to meet you.”

Daniel smiled, then he wrapped his arms around Sean and kissed him.

* * *

“Ferragamos rule. Seriously. Do I look great in these shoes, or what?” asked

Graddie.

“Freaking fabulous for the millionth time,” snapped Angel.

They were walking down the marble hallway of the new High Council’s

building. She hadn’t been to the Otherworld before. It was an impressive place. Sort of

how she thought Mount Olympus might look if a mortal visited the home of the gods.

Michele Bardsley

Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

- 39 -

Graddie was awe-struck by the architecture. He compared it to the way the Parthenon

must’ve looked in its glory days. Angel didn’t care about the columns or arches or fancy

white marble. She just wanted to meet with the High Council, tell ’em to fuck off,

maybe take a couple of seconds to throw something at Roc, and then leave.

“Miss Mortis?” A young woman dressed in a gray pantsuit approached. Her

blonde hair was tugged into a librarian’s bun and her blue eyes were wide behind

black-framed glasses. She held a large brown leather planner, which she opened and

then scanned the page. “Yes. You’re in the main chamber. I would be happy to escort

your companion to our waiting area.”

“I would be happy if you would go away,” said Angel. “Graddie’s with me. If he

doesn’t go, I don’t go.”

The woman inclined her head. “As you wish.”

Angel marched toward the huge mahogany door, which opened as they

approached. They sailed through it and it shut quietly behind them. The new High

Council, which was comprised of nine members, sat behind a long table. All of them

were dressed in white robes. Roc was in the middle of the high and mighty. And on

either side of him was… her mouth dropped open.

“Mom? Dad?”

“Shut. Up.” Graddie nearly fell over. “Your parents are on the High Council.”

“Yes,” said Maggie, her obsidian eyes flashing with determination. “We agreed

with Roc that the balance is in jeopardy. Another High Council, free from corruption,

would help restore order.”

Angel turned her gaze to her father. He shrugged. “I do what your mother tells

me.”

Maggie reached around Roc and whapped her husband upside the head. Rafe

just grinned wider, his blue eyes sparkling.

Roc cleared his throat. “That’s why I had to separate them.”

“You knew.” Ooooh. One more reason to loathe Roc.

He nodded. “Your parents asked me not to tell you. I honored their wishes.”

Michele Bardsley

Demon Hunters, Inc. 2: Hear No Evil

- 40 -

She flipped him off.

“And on that note,” said Roc. “We will begin the meeting by telling Angelica

Mortis the truth about her heritage.”

Her stomach squeezed. Oh, God. What now? Graddie put his arm around her

and she leaned into his embrace. Her life had already been tumbling out of control. She

wasn’t sure she wanted to get any more surprises. Her gaze went from her mother to

her father. Both her parents met her eyes, but not without some lurking guilt.

Roc’s gaze was almost empathetic. He turned to her mom. “Maggie?”

“Your biological father is Abatu, our family’s ancestor and the demon I killed,”

she said. “And your mother was the high priestess Meelena, who betrayed this council

and her own principles to lay with the king of hell.

“She bore him twins, but Abatu killed your infant sister and used her blood to

kill other demons. Your birth mother’s last selfless act was to protect you from your

father. She hid you away, bespelled in a ruby, and in the end, gave us her blessing to

raise you as our own. And do not doubt for a moment that you aren’t ours, Angelica

Mortis.” Tears fell from her mother’s eyes. “I love you more than my own soul.”

“And I as well,” said Rafe. “You are our daughter. But you also have a destiny.”

“The daughter born of darkness and of light,” added Roc. “The one who will rule

all four planes of existence.”

Angel tried to absorb everything, but she couldn’t. She had a twin sister who’d

died? She was… was a demon and a goddess? Her parents weren’t really her parents?

She was gonna be the queen of everything?

“Holy shit,” she whispered. She looked up at Graddie, who looked as shocked as

she felt. “I need a drink.”

“Amen, sistah.”

Michele Bardsley

Award-winning, nationally bestselling author Michele Bardsley lives in

Oklahoma with her family. She escapes the drudgery of housework by writing stories

about vampire moms, demon hunters, interfering goddesses, cursed wizards, and

numerous other characters living in worlds of magic and mayhem. She loves to hear

from her fans! Visit her website at: MicheleBardsley.com

Please check out her other Changeling Press titles:

http://www.changelingpress.com/author.php?uid=41