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The RedeemingBy Jennifer Ashley

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

Los Angeles, September

Samantha hated being demon bait.

She sat at a high table near the bar in Merrick's demon club, wearing a form-hugging, short black dress, black thigh-high stockings, and four-inch heels she'd had to practice walking in. It had been her job for the last two weeks to perch on a high stool, cross her long legs, and wait for Merrick or one of his demons to offer her the illegal drug Mindglow. So far no one had pushed her to do anything more than order a second martini.

Tonight was typical for Merrick's. Every table was full, the Venice beach clientele waiting eagerly for the demons to come in and choose their marks for the night. A few people sat alone at the bar, one of them a man with hunched shoulders who stared down at the line of empty shot glasses in front of him.

At eleven o'clock, the demons strolled out of the back rooms. They were beautiful and sensual, greeting guests with smiles filled with promise. Samantha felt their auras like dark purple smoke as they touched their victims, those whose life essences they would taste that night.

Laws in all states said that demons had to have humans' permission to feed on their life essence—that elusive substance that made a being alive rather than a collection of biological parts. Like the laws that kept vampires from draining their victims dry, likewise demons could not siphon off all life essence and leave a person dead. Demons constantly sought ways around the "permission" clause, and the black market for life essence was huge and profitable. Hence Mindglow, the demon date-rape drug, and Samantha's LAPD assignment.

Merrick, the owner, glided to her table, dressed as usual in a pristine gray Armani suit. "Ah, Sam, I knew you couldn't resist coming back to Merrick's. Is tonight the night I convince you to partake in the glory of me?"

Her nostrils curled at the unmistakable scent of the netherworld, something normal humans couldn't smell. It was the tiniest bit of sulfur and dry air, the scent of power and arrogance.

Modern demons didn't consider themselves evil, unlike the Old Ones, powerful demons who'd walked the earth in centuries past. Samantha had once fought an Old One—not by herself, but with a group of witches and Immortal warriors—and she could attest to the evilness of the ancient ones. The whole experience still gave her nightmares.

The demons at Merrick's were lesser demons who'd learned to adapt to living in the human world. If they stepped out of line, they could be arrested, carted off to special jail cells, and tried for crimes like taking too much life essence or coercing their marks to use Mindglow.

Samantha pasted on a vacant smile as she looked up at Merrick. "Maybe."

He had dark eyes, like most demons, all the better to suck in his victims with. Not victims, Merrick would insist. Clients.

He traced her cheek. "I live in hope."

"I'm still not sure. I mean—you're hot." She let her gaze rove over his body. "But I'm so nervous."

"You never have to worry with me, Sam, my dear."

Merrick's touch became softer, trailing down her bare shoulder. "I can make it as pleasurable as you like, or if you like it to hurt…" He broke off suggestively as his finger moved to her cleavage.

"No," she said quickly. "I'm not into that."

"No, you're obviously a sweet, gentle soul." His pupils were wide, eyes black all the way across, hungry. "I can tell by the way you dress."

As she seethed at his arrogance, Samantha's half-demon senses picked up the pheromones he sent her way. He was trying to relax her, arouse her, make her pliant. She kept cool by remembering the young woman her partner Logan had found in the alley not far from here, her body drained of life, helped along with Mindglow.

"I'm scared," Samantha said. "I know it's supposed to be the best experience ever, but I just don't know."

Merrick moved behind her to massage the nape of her neck. "You know, my pet, I've let you sit at my best table two weeks running while you make up your mind. Most would have taken the plunge by now. What must I do to convince you?"

Offer me the Mindglow, already, damn it.

"It's not like I don't pay."

"Yes, but, sweetheart, there are so many others clamoring to get in. I have to make them wait while you sit here night after night. It's bad for business, my darling."

She pretended to pout. "Fine, I'll sit at the bar then."

"If you want. My bartender likes you—I'll have him give you a couple of drinks on the house."

She made what she hoped was an inane giggle. "Are you trying to get me drunk so I'll go upstairs with you?"

"Of course not," Merrick purred. "It's not as good when you drink too much—for either of us."

"What about drugs? Is it better when you're high?"

"No." Merrick's voice was firm. "It's much better when you're aware and alert and feel everything."

"I could have sworn I heard it was better when you have a buzz on."

"You heard wrong." Merrick breathed in her ear. "But there is something that enhances the experience, makes you feel less afraid. It's not a drug, more like an herbal tea."

Oh, frigging finally.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Come upstairs, and I'll show you."

Not really the best scenario. Upstairs, Samantha might get herself trapped before Logan could get to her. She was strong, and she had a gun in her large beaded purse, but even so she couldn't take on a dozen demons by herself.

"I still don't know…" She found her face pinched in a viselike grip, Merrick forcing her to look him in the eye.

"What are you trying to pull, Samantha?"

Her first instinct was to roll away from him, giving him a kick in the balls along the way, but she held back. "Nothing. Can't I wait until I feel better?"

She felt his pheromones drifting over her, trying to sway her to him. She resisted, and knew he felt it.

"All right, damn you," he growled. "But only because I like you so much."

He snapped his fingers and one of the demon waiters came over. "One dose," Merrick said to him.

Samantha tried to keep triumph from her eyes. She'd have to sit still until the waiter actually came down with the stuff. Then Logan and his backup could raid the club, and Samantha could go home and slip into more sensible shoes.

Merrick smiled his most charming smile, but she sensed his arousal, his growing hunger. "You won't regret it, you know. Because you're so special to me, I'll make it extra sweet—"

At a table near the door, a woman screamed.

Merrick jerked his head around as two well-dressed male demons near the club's entrance suddenly burst out of their human forms. Their clothes ripped as their muscles bulged and their bodies elongated into leathery skinned monstrosities. Everyone was screaming and scrambling to get away from them.

"What the…" Merrick gaped as the two demons knocked over tables and grabbed his clients with powerful swiftness.

At the same time the hunched-over deadbeat at the bar came to life. A deadbeat no more, he unfolded himself into seven feet of warrior in a brown leather duster, a bronze sword in each hand. His granite-hard face bore a pentacle tattoo high on his cheekbone, and his hair was flame red. He glanced at Samantha with eyes like patches of blue sky, and her mouth went dry as dust. Tain.

Merrick didn't notice in the confusion. He yanked Samantha out of the chair and pushed her toward the back of the club. "You get upstairs and stay there. I'll take care of this."

Samantha tottered on her too-high heels, the surprise of the demons' attack overridden by the shock she'd just gotten. Tain couldn't be here, he was off wandering the world trying to find himself or else in that magical realm they called Ravenscroft, wasn't he?

She hadn't seen him in a year and a half, not after he walked off after the battle in Seattle without even saying good-bye. Samantha had been sure he'd forgotten all about her. Now he turned up here, out of the blue, in a club she just happened to be staking out.

"Go on," Merrick snapped, still trying to push her in front of him. "Get upstairs and stay safe. I'd hate to see your cute little ass reduced to little tiny pieces."

The club employees were trying to herd their clients in the same direction, while the demons proceeded to wreak havoc. Samantha shoved her hand into her purse and pulled out her gun.

Merrick stared at it in amazement. "What the hell are you doing with that?"

"It's your lucky night, Merrick," Samantha said.

He gaped a second longer, and then rage mottled his face. "I don't believe it. You're a cop. You double-crossing little bitch, you're too edible to be a cop. I even liked you."

Logan and his men burst through the front door, weapons drawn. She saw Logan toss aside his weapon and morph into his wolf form, snarling as the demons leapt at him and the room filled with gunfire.

Tain lifted his swords as people screamed and dove for cover. Samantha watched in a daze as he crossed them above his head. Then white lightning streaked from the swords across the room and straight into the snarling demons. The demons flew high into the air, slammed against the ceiling, and fell to the floor, stone dead.

For a moment the club went quiet. Logan stood over the dead demons, his lupine nose wrinkling in distaste, his clothes scattered where he'd ripped out of them. Samantha looked up at Tain, but his gaze was remote, blank, like he didn't see the bar or Samantha, or the demons he'd just killed. The rest of the clientele huddled in little clumps, trying to decide what had just happened.

Merrick was the first to recover. He swung around, his eyes blazing red, and tried to kick the pistol out of Samantha's hand. She dodged him at the last second, keeping hold of the gun, and he punched her full in the face.

Samantha's head snapped back, but she kept her weapon on him and fired.

Merrick tumbled across a table with the force of the shot, but demons were hard to kill. Merrick righted himself, blood all over his Armani suit, and went for her again. Samantha leveled her gun at him, but Tain shoved himself between them. Merrick looked down at the crossed swords pinning his throat.

Merrick snarled and shifted to his demon form, completing the ruin of his two-thousand-dollar suit. He lunged, but Tain almost negligently slammed his swords into Merrick's neck, and the demon gurgled and slid to the floor in a pool of blood.

Samantha's face throbbed. Blood streamed from her nose and a deep cut in her cheek where Merrick had punched her, but she barely noticed. Tain stepped back, lowering swords that were stained black with demon blood, as though he knew the danger was over and he no longer needed to be on alert. Watching him change from vicious warrior to bystander again was unnerving. On the other side of the room, Logan had resumed his human form, unworriedly dressing again.

"Samantha."

It was Merrick, still on the floor. He'd returned to his human form, his beautiful suit in shreds, his dark hair matted with blood. Blood streamed from the gash on his neck, but he was still alive. Demons were damn hard to kill.

Samantha limped to Merrick, trying not to slip in his blood. She pulled out her handcuffs with shaking fingers and snapped them around Merrick's wrists. "Merrick, I'm arresting you for possession of Mindglow. You have the right to remain silent…" Anger flared in Merrick's eyes, but he was in no condition to argue.

Samantha felt a warmth behind her and turned to look up at the man she hadn't seen in more than a year. One year, four months, and one week.

The last time had been in the battle with the Old One, a vicious butt-kicker of a demon who'd wanted to watch all of humankind suffer just for fun. Tain had been the demon's follower—maddened, powerful, tortured. Samantha had helped set him free and restore his sanity, but she wondered if he would ever be healed.

"Tain," she whispered.

He placed his fingers on her face. She felt a sharp pain, then a pull that was almost sensual. Warmth pooled in her belly, and her nipples pearled against her skintight dress.

She recognized the feeling—she'd had it last year when Tain had healed her broken arm. He'd done it dispassionately, while she'd been bathed in a glow of his power that was nearly orgasmic.

He lifted his hand away, and she touched her face, finding it whole and uncut, the blood dry. He said nothing but flicked his blue gaze over her skin as though looking for more wounds.

"Do you remember me?" she asked him.

His unruly red hair reached his collar, strands brushing his impossibly handsome face. She'd met his four brothers, all of them breathtaking, but Tain had appealed to her the most, with his fine-sculpted face and lake-blue eyes.

He also had a presence that could knock her off her feet. Her knees wanted to bend, not so she could worship him, but so she could press her face to the fly of his jeans and feel what lay beneath…

He pinched her chin between his fingers. Merrick had done the same, but while Merrick's presumption had angered her, Tain only stunned her to silence.

Tain leaned down and growled into her ear, with the faint Welsh lilt she remembered, "Stay away from me."

He released her, turned on his heel, and strode out of the club.

 

CHAPTER TWO

"Exactly what the hell happened in there?" Logan asked Samantha hours later.

They sat in Lieutenant McKay's office at the paranormal division headquarters downtown, Logan lounging in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him. Logan had sand-colored hair, a tall, lean body, a hard face, and golden-brown eyes.

"Merrick's rivals decided to stage a hit tonight of all nights," Samantha said.

Demon gangs regularly fought among themselves and expected the police to keep out of it. Vampires did the same, although these days a vamp called Septimus kept most things under control in this part of the world.

"No, I meant the other guy," Logan said, twining his hands behind his head. "I saw the other demons slide into the place, which was why we came tearing up."

"Bad timing," Lieutenant McKay agreed. She'd been a cop for fifteen years, and was one-quarter Sidhe but hadn't inherited their height or much of their powerful magic. She had a small, wiry body, black skin, and close-cropped, tightly curled hair that she liked to dye orange red. "But Samantha had the presence of mind not to let Merrick get away in the fuss. We have him on possession of Mindglow at least."

"But not dealing, unfortunately." Samantha sighed. "He can claim his rivals planted anything we find in the club."

"True, but he'll be cagey about it even if we can't get a conviction. Merrick will be out of the Mindglow picture for a while."

"Can we get back to the other guy?" Logan interrupted. He sat forward, bringing the heels of his motorcycle boots to the floor. "I've never seen magic like that. Plus he nearly sliced Merrick's head off like it was butter, and demons have damn thick necks."

"He's an Immortal," Samantha said, not looking at him.

Logan blinked. "He's a what?"

"An Immortal warrior. There are five of them, half brothers. Tain is the youngest."

Both Logan and McKay stared at her in surprise. "And you know this, how?" Logan asked.

"I've met him before."

Logan's sandy brows climbed up his forehead. "Oh, really? Is that why he jumped in front of you and tried to cut Merrick in half?"

"He doesn't like demons. One tortured him for hundreds of years and drove him a little insane." The understatement of the year. "It had nothing to do with me."

"So he just happened to be in the right place at the right time? Sure, Samantha."

Samantha shrugged. "Maybe he got a tip-off that Merrick's would be attacked tonight."

"He not only killed the demons but got Merrick, too. I'd say he had some kind of agenda."

Samantha tried to keep her expression neutral. "Why don't you bring him in and question him, then?"

"Why don't you?" Logan countered. "He knows you, and I'd be interested in what he has to say."

"So would I," Lieutenant McKay said. "By law, killing demons is murder, though we can make a case that he did it in defense of innocent humans. If he knows something about Merrick or his rivals, I want to hear it."

Samantha thought back to Tain's hot touch on her skin, his voice grating, Stay away from me.

"I think you're both optimistic," Samantha said. "We're not exactly friends."

"Try anyway," were the lieutenant's encouraging words. "I'd like to see him within the week. Tonight didn't go exactly as we hoped, but it could have been worse. Go home and sleep, both of you. We'll clean up the mess in the morning."

Dismissed, Logan and Samantha went to their lockers, collected their things, and walked out together. The Los Angeles night was cool, September finally taking the edge off the shimmering summer heat.

Logan peered at her as they made for the parking lot. "Are you all right? You took a good punch in there."

Samantha put her hand to her face where Merrick's rings had torn it. Tain's magic had completely healed the flesh. "I'm fine. I just need some rest."

"We could go for pizza, maybe a movie? Some mindless, fake violence to help us forget about the mindless, real violence?"

She managed a grin. "Sounds tempting. Thanks, Logan, but I'm ready for a hot shower and a soft bed."

"Fair enough. I suppose I can order in pizza and find mindless violence by myself on TV. See you tomorrow."

"See you."

They'd reached Samantha's car by then, a used Toyota pickup. No glamour cars for detectives in the LAPD paranormal division. Logan rode a Harley that he lovingly tinkered with in his spare time. Days off saw him on his Harley flying through mountains and the open desert far to the west of L.A.

Samantha's apartment was in a fairly decent complex in west L.A. with a pool and cherry trees that bloomed in the spring. Her mother had invited her to live at home in Pasadena, but her demon father had just returned after years of being estranged from her mother, and Samantha wanted to give them their privacy. She was still coming to grips with getting to know her father and finding she didn't hate him.

Her apartment welcomed her with art posters that gave the generic walls some color, comfortable furniture, and a short-haired black-and-white cat called Pickles. As she closed the door Pickles leapt from the back of the sofa to the kitchen counter, purring like crazy.

"Cupboard love," Samantha said as she scratched him under the chin. "I love you—so feed me."

Pickles shamelessly butted his head against her hand until she picked him up and cuddled him. She set him down again, and he raced expectantly to his food bowl, which she filled with dry cat food.

"I slave, you master," she quipped, but her heart wasn't in it.

While Pickles ate, Samantha showered, letting the hot water and steam in the glass-walled stall relax her. The aroma of soap and lavender permeated the bathroom, and for a time, she leaned her head on the glass and breathed it in.

She knew that when she went to bed she'd see him in her mind—the tall man she'd been dreaming of for a year. She also knew that seeing him tonight hadn't been such a big coincidence—Tain's brother Adrian owned a house in Malibu where his other brother Hunter and his wife were currently living, and Tain visited them from time to time. It was more surprising that she hadn't run across him before this.

Tain and his four brothers had been created eons ago, she'd been told, each born of a goddess and a human man. Their purpose had been to keep the world safe from the most dangerous creatures—the Old Ones—ancient demons and vampires. But seven hundred years ago, Tain had been captured, hidden, and endlessly tortured by an Old One called Kekhsut, and his brothers and the witches they'd fallen in love with had battled the demon and gotten Tain free.

Tain had been so maddened by the demon's torture—flaying him, waiting for his Immortal body to heal, then doing it again—that by that time he hadn't wanted to be free. Tain had tried to destroy the world to end his own torment instead, and only the combined effort of his brothers, and somehow Samantha, had restored him to freedom and sanity.

Now her boss wanted to interview Tain. Perfect. Samantha supposed she could call Leda, Tain's brother's wife, find out whether Tain was staying with them, and get Leda or Hunter to take him down to the police station. She wouldn't even have to attend the interview—Logan and McKay could ask him about his knowledge of the demon underworld by themselves.

Samantha shut off the water determinedly but stood dripping for a moment, unable to think about anything but Tain's blue eyes and the warmth in her body when he'd healed her face. Damn.

She started shivering, grabbed her towels, and dried off. She turbaned her hair in one towel and wrapped another around her torso and walked out to the kitchen, craving lots of hot coffee and all the microwave food she could handle.

Tain was sitting at her kitchen table.

Samantha stifled a scream and jumped back, the towel tumbling from her head. Tain had folded his big body into her kitchen chair, his unruly red hair rolling back from his forehead. He rubbed Pickles under the chin with a broad forefinger, and her traitorous cat purred up a storm.

"What are you doing in here?" she demanded.

Tain's blue gaze took in every inch of her towel-clad body. The gaze unnerved her, and not only because she was all but naked. She saw darkness behind the blue, a hint of the madness that maybe had been too engraved on him to be easily erased. She'd sensed that at the club, and it was stronger here, alone with him.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said. His voice held the note of Celtic peoples, slightly musical with faintly rolled r's.

"You know, most people knock on the front door," she said, her nervousness making her voice sharp. "Or are the rules different for Immortals?"

"I did knock."

"I couldn't hear you. I was in…"

"The shower." He raked his gaze over her again, and she tightened her hold on the towel. "You left the door unlocked."

"No, I…" He might be right; she'd been so tired she'd slammed the door, thrown down her stuff, and started in with the cat-feeding ritual without thinking. "Even so, that doesn't mean you get to walk right in."

"I came because I need help, and you were the only one I could think of to ask."

She stopped in surprise. "What, your four Immortal brothers and their kick-ass witch wives aren't good enough anymore?"

"Not that kind of help. I need police help."

"I see." Water trickled down her face from her wet hair, and she impatiently wiped it away. "Stay there," she said, then hurried back to the bedroom and slammed the door.

When she emerged, dressed again, Tain was feeding Pickles tidbits from a can of cat treats. Pickles purred hard, his Geiger-counter buzz filling the room.

Last year during the battle Tain had lifted Samantha twenty feet off the ground with his magic, a drop that could have killed her. He'd set her down again only because she'd talked fast and hard at him, and he'd become intrigued by their banter. It unnerved her now to see the man who'd so terrified her sitting in her kitchen playing gently with her cat.

"His name's Pickles," she said, her voice strained. "Because he likes to chew on them."

"That's not what he thinks his name is," Tain answered.

"What does he think it is?"

"Master of All He Sees."

Biting back a hysterical laugh, Samantha drew out the chair across from him and sank into it. "I thought your brother Hunter had the affinity with animals."

"Don't all cats think that's what they should be called?"

He sounded perfectly sane, and except for that spark buried deep in his eyes he looked sane. He'd tossed a long leather coat on her couch and sat in a black short-sleeved T-shirt. His forearms were mottled with scars, though they didn't look as bad as Samantha feared they would. Silky, red-gold hair had grown in across his skin, disguising many of the marks of torture.

"Why were you at Merrick's tonight?" she asked abruptly.

"Two reasons. One of them to see you."

Tain's eyes were steady when he said it, no lying. So much for Logan's theory that he'd been there because he'd known in advance about the demon attack.

Pickles put his paw on Tain's hand, and Tain resumed rubbing the demanding cat's jaw. "I saw you go into Merrick's last night. That surprised me—I hadn't put you down as a woman who'd seek demon sex, until I noticed your partner lingering down the street. I got there early tonight and planned to follow you when you left."

"How did a demon club even let you in? What, they didn't notice you were an Immortal warrior with two very long swords?"

He didn't rise to her banter. "I can hide my aura well if I want to. My swords, too, which are short swords, not long. Late Roman bronze."

"I'm sure you have a fascinating collection of weapons."

He ignored that, too. "You aren't very good at pretending to be a demonwhore. You smiled at Merrick but with loathing in your eyes."

"Yes, well, I'm not fond of that part of the job. I don't think Merrick noticed, though. He was too busy staring at my cleavage."

"I didn't like him doing that, but I can't much blame him."

He really shouldn't look at her like that, and she really shouldn't respond so easily to him, either.

"It was just to entice Merrick," Samantha said. "It almost worked."

"He never would have touched you. I'd have stopped him even if those demons hadn't attacked."

Her heart gave a strange flip. "And ruined a perfectly good undercover investigation? I was going to arrest him as soon as he brought me the Mindglow. I was this close." She held up her forefinger and thumb.

"Merrick is dangerous. Leave him alone."

The flutter turned to irritation. "I arrested him, in case you didn't notice. He's in custody at a hospital, although he has the best lawyer in Los Angeles, so I'm sure he'll go home as soon as he's healed. Demons make terrific lawyers."

Tain watched her with hard eyes. "You should stay away from him."

"That assignment is over for now, so it's a moot point. You said you wanted my help. With what?"

Tain dug out a few more treats for her greedy cat and watched while Pickles ate them. "You've been staking out the demon clubs in Venice and Santa Monica, and so have I. That's the second reason I went to Merrick's tonight."

Samantha rubbed her damp hair. "Wait, wait, wait. I'm confused. Before you left the club, you distinctly told me to leave you alone. But what you really meant to say was, 'Samantha, can you help me out?'"

He wouldn't look at her. He studied his hands, the white scars on the backs of his fingers stark against his brown skin. "I don't want to need your help. I never wanted to see you again after Seattle."

"After I saved your butt in Seattle, you mean."

To her surprise he g...

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