Dark Hunger Read Online Free PDF Page B

disease, such as syphilis.”
    “Is that so?” He took a step toward her, his breath bathing her face as his gaze pinned her.
    She slid back into the corner of the sofa and shivered. God help her.
    He was going to kill her.
    Quinton narrowed his eyes, trying to probe Annabelle Armstrong’s mind to see how much she knew about him. In spite of her gutsy attitude, she was terrified of him. Thought he was a hard-edged killer. And maybe a demon.
    But sexy…
    That realization momentarily threw him off guard.
    Made his cock twitch and his blood run hot.
    Even in danger the night before, he remembered what it had felt like to have her sinful body beneath his.
    But, hell, she’d broken into his damn house.
    Where had she gotten her information?
    She couldn’t have found anything concrete here. He was a professional. He left no evidence, no paper trail, nothing that could link him to any of the terrorists or their deaths.
    Except for that damn demon book…
    Which had nothing to do with his job.
    Just his personal life.
    “You know, lady, if you really think I’m a killer or a monster, you must be pretty damn stupid to break into my house.”
    His fingers tightened around her wrist, and he clenched his jaw as she paled. He had to scare her off. “Either that or you have a death wish.”
    She winced but jutted up her chin, those cobalt-blue eyes boring into his. “No, I don’t. But I want the truth. I know you’re an assassin. I have photos of three of your kills.” She hesitated. “So I don’t understand why you ran around saving people last night.”
    He cursed. “You wanted me to stand by and let innocent people die?”
    “No, of course not.” She hesitated, confusion marring her face. “Just tell me one thing, Quinton. Do you ever regret what you do, that you kill for a living?”
    How could he regret killing bad guys? But he didn’t acknowledge her question, and he refused to admit to anything, no matter how much proof she thought she had.
    “Photos can be misleading.” He squeezed her wrist harder. He’d use his gift against her. Climb in her head and figure out how to keep her from exposing him.
    Her memories became his—her mother had died recently. Her father had abandoned her. She was trying to make it in a man’s dog-eat-dog world.
    “You think you have something to prove,” he said in a gruff voice. “And you’d jeopardize your life to do it. That’s not very smart, Annabelle.”
    She stiffened. “I just want the truth. I saw what you did last night,” she said in a strained voice.
    He narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
    “You moved a beam off of that man without touching it,” she whispered. “You did it with your mind.”
    He threw his head back and laughed sarcastically. “You must have hit your head. You were obviously seeing things.”
    Her mouth tightened. “I didn’t hit my head.”
    Her gaze latched onto his, the sultry look in her eyes daring him to argue.
    “Then you’re delusional.”
    A crooked smile curved her mouth as her gaze swung sideways to note the demon book. “That’s not what your book says. Which one are you? One of the demons? A Dark Lord or a Soul Collector?”
    He smirked. “Like you said, they’re childhood stories. Not real.” He released her abruptly. “Get out,” he snapped. “And stay out of my life or you’ll be sorry.”
    She heaved a breath and strode toward the door, tugging her shoulder bag over her arm. It suddenly hit him that she probably had a recorder.
    He caught her before she could leave, jerked the bag from her and rummaged through it.
    Cold rage shot through him as his fingers slid around the small metal recorder. She flinched, trying to mask her fear as he ripped out the tape.
    She glared at him, then snatched up her bag. “You’re not going to scare me off, Quinton.”
    He gripped his hands into fists, the darkness inside him tearing at his calm veneer, and he barely held himself in check.
    Something in his eyes