Immortal Hope Read Online Free PDF

a duffel bag she hadn’t noticed before, and the oath that hissed through his teeth stirred her amusement once again. She bit down on her lower lip to stifle a giggle. She must be in shock—she couldn’t think of any other reason to find anything remotely funny about this situation.
    He righted himself, and with the armband dangling from his pinkie, he fumbled inside the bag. When his one-handed search only annoyed him, he set the blade down and shoved both hands inside. His stare left her, his focus on his search.
    Instinct took over. Anne grabbed her purse. Using all the strength she could muster, she swung it, clocking him in the temple. He staggered forward, and Anne didn’t wait to see if he fell. She raced for the door.
    A thick arm wound around her waist, halting her escape. Like an iron band, he fastened her against a chest that felt like steel. A slight lift, and her feet came off the floor. She let out a shriek and clawed at his arm. Kicking with all her might, she sought contact with a shin, a thigh, whatever part of his body she could strike. He grunted with each drive of her heel, but his hold never faltered.
    He carried her across the room and tossed her onto the sofa. When she lifted her glare to his face, a storm of fury brewed in his features. Black eyes glinted like brittle glass. His mouth pulled into a grim line. A muscle twitched along his jaw.
    “You tempt me sorely,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “You will explain how you came by such.” He pointed to her arm, and to Anne’s horror, she found the armband firmly in place.
    She opened her mouth to protest, but words failed her. Just what had Gabe brought home? “Look, I don’t know anything about this armband.”
    The stranger cut her off with a glower. “You will wait.” He flipped open a cell phone. One eye on her, he dialed. Wisely, she kept her mouth shut, sensing if she did so much as twitch, he would make good on his threat.
    He spoke into the phone. “Come to the adytum. I found a demon who possesses the serpents.”
    Anne blinked several times in rapid succession. He had friends? Coming here? Oh Lord above, if she got out of here alive, she would never, ever, accept another of Gabe’s strange gifts.
    The stranger snapped his phone shut. Sword once again in hand, he pointed it at her throat. “Now speak.”
    Anne swallowed hard. “My boss gave me the armband.”
    Again his gaze narrowed, suspicion glinting behind his dark eyes. “What charm did you place on it, demon Anne?”
    “I’ve already said…” Anne trailed off as movement behind the stranger caught her attention. A shadowy form spanned the wall from ceiling to floor. It shifted on its own accord, no mere product of the dim light. Two arms took shape, followed by an elongated snout. The faint scent of rotted flesh wafted through the room.
    Her words came faster as she glanced back at her invader. “I don’t know anything about demons. But I’m not one.” She looked over his shoulder, her throat tightening as the shadowy form drifted—no floated—across the floor.
    Anne pointed, and her voice took on a higher pitch. “I’m pretty sure that is though.”
    *   *   *
    Merrick realized too late that the rotting smell he had assumed came from Anne in fact came from behind him. As the woman let out a shriek and scrambled over the back of the couch, claws raked down his back. Heat seared through his skin. He bit back the pain with a low growl and wheeled around to confront Azazel’s fiend.
    His sword thumped into the nytym’s side, jostling it off balance. The weight in his arm felt more like a lump of useless steel than any weapon of defense, and Merrick willed his body to cooperate. Widening his stance, he deflected another barrage of claws.
    Almost a thousand years of training overpowered the weakness in his limbs. Parry, thrust, parry, slice, he fell into routine. The nytym gave strike for strike, meeting Merrick’s advance with speed and accuracy.