remaining fifteen years of your contract in Hell.” The smile he gave her chilled her blood. “And if you’re still alive at the end of those fifteen years, you’ll be free.”
Yeah, like she’d be able to stay alive for a week on her own in Hell. Not with all those bounties she’d returned over the years actively hunting her. No, if she failed, she’d spend eternity being tortured.
“Do whatever it takes to get close to him.” He pointed at the picture and then ran his gaze over her body. She wanted to pull her legs up and curl into a ball. But he’d only make her stand, maybe even strip her naked so she would be even more vulnerable. “Anything,” he repeated.
After making his position crystal clear, he disappeared in a puff of smoke. Coughing, she sheathed her weapons and waved her hand in front of her face, gagged a couple of times, and swallowed heavily to keep from throwing up. Oh, she understood completely. She was to sleep with the guy in the picture if it allowed her to get close enough to kill him.
Not willing to look into the face of the man she was supposed to kill, she picked up the photo and turned it over first. There was only a name on the back—Maccus Fury.
She slowly flipped the picture around and studied him. Black eyes glared back at her as if he was already fully aware of what she’d been ordered to do. Jet black hair was cut short on the sides, with the top long and pulled back into a short tail. The image was only of his upper body, but peeking out from beneath his shirt were several tattoos. She picked up the photo and brought it closer but couldn’t quite tell what the images were.
“What have you done to piss off Lucifer?” He wouldn’t win any prizes for beauty. His features were too rough, too rugged for that. But there was something so compelling about him, and she took a second and then a third look.
She was going to die.
A sense of inevitability filled her. This man was no easy mark, no demon drunk on a furlough to earth so he could enjoy all its forbidden pleasures, no scared human trying to hide from the devil.
He’s a warrior. It was written in every line of his body.
I’m totally fucked.
Morrigan sucked in a deep breath. She didn’t cry, had lost that ability ten years ago when she’d given up her humanity to save the only person she’d ever truly loved—her baby sister. Everything she’d been through had been worth it to save the then misguided eighteen-year-old. Kayley was now twenty-eight and out there somewhere living her life. That was enough. It had to be. It was all she had.
The picture burned her fingers, and she dropped it on the table. The paper curled as fire licked over the edges. When it disappeared, there was writing burned into the table. “New York.” As soon as she said the words, the letters faded. She had her starting point.
Time to hunt.
Chapter Two
Morrigan ducked down an alleyway, avoiding stepping on the broken glass and garbage littering the area from the overflowing dumpster. As if her job wasn’t already hard enough—find and kill Maccus Fury for Lucifer—her supervisor, Emmett, had sent her a contract for a lesser demon who thought the rules didn’t apply to him.
Why were demons always so stupid, especially once they had a taste of living in the world above? Not that she could blame the guy. Hell was not a nice place to be. But rules were rules, and he understood the consequences of not returning as well as she did.
Lucifer doled out assignments and vacations sparingly. By abusing the privilege, this demon would never see topside again. Not to mention the torture that awaited.
Not my problem.
Emmett obviously had no idea she was doing a side job for their boss. Otherwise, she would have been left alone to do it. At least the job had sent her to New York, so she had a legitimate reason for being here. And Emmett had a line on where to find this wayward demon.