Damn but he made her hot and bothered.
Unfortunately, no amount of wishing could change their situation, and with a shuddering sigh, she forced herself to step back.
"We should find the coven," she said with a resigned grimace.
Dante briefly closed his eyes, as if battling for control, before lifting his head and sweeping his gaze over the star-studded sky.
"Yes, dawn will come too soon. Let's get this done."
Chapter 9
The past centuries had taught Dante more than a few lessons.
Never dine upon drunkards. Never turn your back on an angry woman. Never bet on a horse named Lucky. Never wrestle a Chactol demon after a bottle of gin.
And never, never ignore pure instinct.
That last lesson had been the hardest and best learned, which was why he had not directly headed for the coven, although he had managed to catch its scent only a mile from the abandoned factories.
There was something not at all right, he decided as they drew closer. An icy chill prickled over his skin, and the smell of fresh blood filled the air.
A battle had been fought nearby. A battle that had involved powerful magic and undeniable slaughter.
Skirting the trees that hid the coven from view, Dante attempted to determine the danger ahead. He could sense no demons, but he was no longer certain that it was the creatures of the night who posed the greatest threat.
And that, of course, was what troubled him the most.
Devil spit.
He didn't like the feeling that he was being led by the nose by this unseen enemy. And yet, what choice did he have but to go forward?
He had to find the witches.
Even if it killed him.
A thought that pissed him off royally.
Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as Abby struggled to free her shirt from a clinging thorn bush. A faint smile twitched at his lips. She truly was the most unusual of creatures. As rare and precious as the finest jewel.
As if sensing his gaze, she abruptly jerked her head up to glare at him with that glorious annoyance that she seemed to reserve solely for him.
"Dammit, if we're going to walk in circles, can we at least do it somewhere that sells mocha ice cream and has air-conditioning?"
"We aren't walking in circles," he instinctively denied, only to give a faint grimace. "At least not precisely."
"I suppose you possess some sort of bat vision?"
He flicked his brow upward. "You do know that bats are blind?"
She gritted her teeth. "Vampire vision, then."
He gave a shrug. "I can see well enough, not that it truly matters. I'm not looking for the coven."
"What?" Her eyes glittered with danger in the fading moonlight. "I swear to God, Dante, if you've led me through this mutant briar patch for some sort of joke, I'll st—"
"Stake me, yes, I know," he drawled. 'You might try to be a bit less predictable, lover."
"You didn't give me the chance to say where Yd stake you," she snapped.