Back From Hell Read Online Free PDF Page A

car. Sliding Steph a glance, she gave an imperceptible nod. His energy touched the psychic shields in her mind like static electricity, and the stink of death was almost palpable, even out here. With a roll of her shoulders, she slid out of the knee-length black coat, regretfully letting go of her bag of tricks and her own arsenal of weapons. Steph had removed the blade and her other assorted weapons with a glum sigh, so when she climbed out of the Mustang, all anybody would see was a stacked woman with caramel-colored skin, her long hair confined in its tight braid, and big silver eyes.
    Next to her, Jenai felt like a colorless twig, but she had learned that not all men wanted a 36 D and yards of thick black curls. They slid each other one final glance, nerves dancing in their eyes, and then they started into the bar, all smiles and batting eyelashes.
    Steph was the bait this time.
    Mannen had a fondness for black women, as evidenced by the fact that most of his victims were either black or biracial. She wouldn’t be a victim, though. He’d most likely just want to fuck her. She had the scent of autre on her, the scent of a woman not quite mortal.
    As did Jenai.
    While no human would recognize it, there was little chance any of the autre would miss it. And Mannen wouldn’t choose a woman of the autre as his prey. He wouldn’t like the idea of a possible fight. He wanted to subdue, conquer, rape and then feed. Another werewolf would mean he’d have a fight on his hands.
    But few werewolves could look at Steph and not want to fuck. It was a bit of a problem for them, as Steph was rather picky and not all weres took “no” very well. The werewolf lifestyle was full of the laws of the dominant. The stronger takes what he or she wants, and that’s that. Moving into civilization openly as they had in the past century had forced them to temper their ways some, but little had changed when it came to sex, especially among their own kind.
    They saw, they wanted, the lesser wolf gave it up.
    Problem was, Steph wasn’t lesser. She wasn’t as strong as a were male, but she was quicker, she was just as arrogant, and she hadn’t been raised as a were. She was a Night Stalker, and that power surrounded her, confusing those who looked at her, making them shy away even as they hungered.
    “Well,” Steph said, her voice just a bare whisper, smiling that flirtatious smile. “At least he’s not a dog to look at.”
    The minute they entered, they knew who he was. Autre didn’t blend well at all. Not if a person knew what to look for. He was blond and blue-eyed, good looking in a surfer boy style, with a charming smile, curls tumbling onto his forehead as he studied them, much as a lot of the men in there were doing. There was a vibration of energy around him that humans just didn’t have, almost like some sort of internal light.
    But the air around him was black. To Jenai, it stank of blood…of death. The rage inside her threatened to spill out as she stared at him and remembered the trail of bodies he left in his wake.
    They slid onto a couple of empty barstools, well aware of Mannen as he continued to watch them, his hand loosely holding a cue stick. “He blends almost too well,” Jenai said, her voice a bare whisper as she leaned over to murmur in Steph’s ear. “Not one of these cops senses anything off.”
    The possibilities behind just how well he blended didn’t sit well with Jenai, but Steph look unconcerned.
    “Nothing in the info I’ve gotten would lead me to think he’s a cop,” Steph said, shrugging. “That would have shown up on the reports I ran.”
    “Unless he’s got a couple of identities stashed away,” Jenai mumbled. “It’s not like anybody has actually lived to give a description of him.”
    As the bartender approached, Stephanie gave a breathy little giggle and smacked playfully at Jenai’s hand before turning her big, sparkling eyes on him. “I’ll take tequila, straight. Lemon instead of