(SPECTR 1) Hunter of Demons Read Online Free PDF Page A

thin build, and ripped jeans, Caleb Jansen looked more like a hippie peacenik than someone who made experienced agents wet their pants.
    Of course, the way a human host looked said nothing about the NHE inside. And true, John had been able to sense the etheric energy swirling around him from several feet away. Nothing unusual, but it made him feel better: this entity, whatever it was, had most definitely not been in Ben Jansen’s body when he’d seen it.
    John finished the invocation and reached out with the psychic sense he couldn’t describe to anyone except another exorcist. It was like extending a rope barbed with hooks, but the rope and the hooks were somehow part of him, connected to his own energy and nervous system. He’d snag the NHE, drag it out of Caleb, force it into the spirit bottle, and hand it over to the disposal team.
    Piece of cake.
    John’s ears popped as the pressure inside the circle dropped sharply. The smell of ozone filled the air, underlain with a whisper of sandalwood and desert earth dampened by rain. A mad wind sprang up from nowhere; Caleb’s long hair whipped back from his face, and his clothes ruffled wildly. All four of the candles went out at once.
    Not according to plan.
    Caleb’s head snapped back; his eyes were no longer soft brown, but black as obsidian mirrors. Jagged flashes sparked in their depths.
    But the outward manifestations were nothing compared to the energy suddenly flooding the circle, playing along sensitive nerves. John stood in front of an oncoming storm, a leviathan of thunder and lightning, which had the power to obliterate everything in its path.
    Fuck. John took an instinctive step back, his hand tightening on his athame. How the hell had things gone wrong so fast, from no physical symptoms to a full-blown possession in a matter of seconds?
    “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Sean had said, and damn it, he should have listened. Because, however the NHE had reacted to Sean’s weaker talent, John certainly had its attention.
    The entity wearing Caleb’s body took a step toward him, and damn, the way it moved, all animal strength and grace. Backed up with such energy, it was like being trapped in a cage with a hungry tiger.
    John took another step back himself, instinct warring with intellect. Predator! Run! Hide! screamed his hindbrain, and it was everything he could do to lock his knees and hold firm, because breaking the circle would let it out where it could get at the rest of the team.
    Kaniyar was back there with her gun, somewhere. If things got truly out of hand, she’d fill it with silver-jacketed lead. And if John was lucky, she’d drop it before his head was ripped clean off his shoulders.
    Etheric energy swirled over and around him. In response, his cock swelled and strained against the zipper of his slacks.
    What the hell?
    He’d done dozens of exorcisms, and the only one to get a rise out of him had been an incubus—and not even it had affected him like this display of pure, raw, power.
    “What are you doing?” the NHE asked. Its voice was Caleb’s, but underlain with a bass roar, like the roll of thunder.
    John’s mind froze, torn between his training, which said he should stab it with his athame and throw every bit of energy he could summon into forcing it out of Caleb’s dying body, and the fact it sounded…well, annoyed.
    Not angry. Not raging. Not groveling or conciliatory, as if it wanted to trick him into letting it go. Just irritated, as if he posed a minor inconvenience.
    The sheer amount of etheric energy bleeding out of it staggered him. There was no way he could make this entity leave Caleb’s body if it didn’t want to go, not without killing Caleb. And he wasn’t ready to do that yet, not when it didn’t seem to pose an immediate danger.
    “What’s your name?” John asked cautiously. Some NHEs had them, or took them, and it was as good a stalling tactic as any while he figured out what to do next.
    The