Cassie (The Coven's Grove Chronicles #3) (2 page)

Read Cassie (The Coven's Grove Chronicles #3) Online

Authors: Virginia Hunter

Tags: #Top 10 Paranormal Romance, #sorcery, #Sex, #Dark fantasy, #Demon, #Paranormal Romance, #Steamy, #Urban Fantasy, #Warlock, #Thriller, #shapeshifter, #fantasy, #Wizard, #Magic, #Witch, #shifter, #mage

BOOK: Cassie (The Coven's Grove Chronicles #3)
9.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Once the demon had its fill, it rose, and slowly walked toward J’onn. With every step, its body and form began to change. The closer it came, the more human it appeared. When the creature finally stopped not more than a few feet away, J’onn gazed at a perfect replica of himself, naked, and covered in blood.

“Come,” J’onn commanded, barely able to contain his excitement. “I would set you to purpose.”

 

T
he place was a dive. There were always more than a few in whatever state Cassie ended up in, and Colorado was no exception. Concrete floors, and those four legged stools with the round cushions on them, were always a telltale sign. The cushions here at O’Malley’s just happened to be Kelly green, and didn’t match anything in the bar, except maybe the cloth on the pool tables.
An Irish bar in Colorado, go figure,
she thought.

Cassie took a sip of her beer and looked up at the strand of icicle lights hanging across the top of the bar.
Jesus, even those aren’t right
. A bitter memory of her “previous life,” as she referred to it now, flashed in her mind. Her mother had always hung those kind of lights in the living room. She’d been meticulous about it too, not a strand out of place. Whoever put them up on the bar, apparently didn’t care if they were straight or not. Cassie shook her head.
Doesn’t matter anyway
.

The television up on the wall, blaring some basketball game, competed with the music thumping in the background. There was a decent crowd milling around, waiting for the dart tournament to start. Most of them looked as if they’d just gotten off work, and were ready to make the most of their evening. Cheap domestic beer and smack talk were the entrees for the night, and everyone was having their fill.

Cassie hadn’t come for the tournament, she just wanted to wind down after a long day working at the lumber mill. The job was demanding, but paid the bills. She took another sip of her beer. This time however, she glanced at the guy that had followed her in. He was across the room trying to blend in, but Cassie knew better. She’d seen him in the parking lot, and had gotten an uneasy feeling right off the bat.

His gaze cut to the floor when she looked at him.

Cassie chuckled to herself.
I don’t know why they even try to fit in anymore
. After five years of being on the run it was pretty easy for her to single them out. They all walked the same way, sat by the exit, and gave her that creepy lingering gaze. Not a sensual stare mind you, it was more like how a hunter eyed his prey. This guy happened to be in his mid-30’s with the start of a pot belly. His blue jeans and flannel shirt actually matched the ball cap he’d pulled down in an attempt to hide the fact that he was there.

Cassie frowned. It looked like a new town, new job, and new hotel, was in her immediate future.
Dammit, I had it good here too
. Her piss-poor mood soured a bit more. She puzzled over how they had found her. She didn’t use credit cards anymore, and didn’t pay taxes either. The only thing that might have given anybody a clue was the accident that happened about a month back. A logging truck took a turn too sharp, and went over the side of a cliff. Cassie had been fortunate enough to be there to save the driver. The incident hadn’t made national news, but the local channels had been on fire with the story. She’d done her best to stay away from the cameras, but the reporters had been as tenacious as they were annoying.
That has to be it...shit
.

Whoever was in charge of the tournament called out to the crowd that the event was beginning. Cheers went up around the bar, and the different teams gathered to talk out their strategies. Though Cassie wasn’t sure how much strategy was involved in throwing a feathered spike at a wall.

She glanced over her shoulder after finishing her beer to check on her tag-along.

He was gone.

He’s going to try and take me in the parking lot,
Cassie thought.
At least their strategy was solid and predictable
.

“I’ll take a whisky neat and another Corona for the lady,” a deep voice said over Cassie’s other shoulder, as the bartender walked by.

Cassie slowly closed her eyes.
Oh, hell
. She turned to have a look at who was fishing for a piece, and found herself a bit taken aback. The muscular blond leaning on the bar next to her wasn’t what she’d expected. The men around here tended to be rough in the looks department. This guy, however, had a smile that made you want to smile right back, like a giddy little school girl. Which of course is exactly what she did before she could stop herself.
Great. Smooth as ever
.

With the exception of his jeans and t-shirt, Blondie could have been a Norseman right out of the history books, sporting broad shoulders, and muscled thighs. On any other night, she would have humored the thought of having a little fun. But tonight would have to be chalked up to bad timing.

“Not available, sorry,” Cassie said.

“Wow, just like that huh?” Blondie replied.

“Yep.” She took a swig of the beer he’d bought her.
Why waste a free drink?

“You looked like you could use the drink is all.”

Cassie narrowed her eyes.

Blondie raised his hands in surrender. “It’s never a bad idea to buy a pretty lady a drink. You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

Cassie smirked, and then tipped the bottle toward him. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” He took his whiskey, and nodded to the bartender before looking back to lock eyes with her. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Cassie swallowed a bit too loudly, mesmerized by his blue gray eyes, that looked like storm clouds brewing.

He turned, and sauntered off toward a seat near one of the dart teams.

Mother in heaven
. Cassie sighed, as she watched him go. She did like a good backside, and his didn’t disappoint. The six-foot-three V-shaped frame didn’t hurt either.
Sorry handsome, not tonight.

Cassie slammed back the rest of her beer, and got to her feet.
Damn my past, and damn the law too
. She grabbed her coat, and checked for her stalker one last time.

No sign.

She knew O’Malley’s didn’t have a side door, and that going out the back could be worse than using the front. Not to mention her car was out there.
You’re stalling. Just go and be done with it
. She took a deep breath, and headed toward the exit.

Crisp, February air blasted her in the face, as she swung the door open. The sudden gust took her breath away. Snow covered the ground a foot thick, but the sidewalks and parking lot had all been shoveled and salted. There were no signs of the guy that had followed her in, but her two-door 1978 Monte Carlo was easy enough to spot. It was a junker, no doubt, but it’d been cheap and reliable. That’s all she needed nowadays.

The slush crunched under her boots as she power-walked to the car. She was starting to think that she might get away without incident until she caught sight of the flat tire.
Son-of-a-bitch!

“Cassie Gallagher,” a man said from behind her. “Put your hands out where I can see them.”

“Go to hell,” Cassie snapped, as she spun around. “You’re not a cop. You’re an asshole!” She could feel the heat of her power building. She was starting to lose her temper, which was bad.
He shouldn’t have cut my tires
.

The bounty hunter was maybe a dozen feet away. He had a pair of handcuffs in one hand, and what looked like a blackjack in the other. “I’m taking you back to Canada to face murder charges.”

“Like hell you are!” Cassie clenched her fists. “I think you got the wrong person, pal.”

Asshole chuckled. “I know it’s you. Make it easy on yourself, and come with me.” He jingled the handcuffs in the air.

This guy really was a blockhead. “Look man, I’m not having the best of nights, and that could be bad for you. So why don’t we go our separate ways, and pretend none of this ever happened?”

“Really?” he asked with mock concern. “I was afraid you might get mad and hurt me.” Then his expression went dead serious. “I didn’t take you for the stupid type, but alright, we’ll do this the hard way.”

“Your funeral.”

He charged her full on.

Cassie sidestepped his careless swings easily, and struck him once in the ribs with her fist. She felt his bones break, before the telling snaps reached her ears.

The bounty hunter screamed, and collapsed, cradling his side. “You bitch!”

Cassie reared back to punch him in the face, but stopped.
Calm yourself. You’ll kill him
. She settled for a kick to the shoulder, that flattened him on his back, and sent him sliding across the parking lot. “Eat shit, asshole.”

His overconfidence had been laughable, though it played to her advantage.
They never learn,
she thought smugly. It was easy enough to understand their stupidity. Cassie’s five-foot-five frame didn’t really speak of a powerhouse.
So much the better
.

She brushed her hands on her jeans, and turned to go back in the bar to call for a tow, when a fist slammed into her cheek. Spots of bright light swam in her vision, as she stumbled away from the attack. Another blow connected with her lower back, sending her to the ground writhing in pain.

“Think you’re tough, little girl?” asked someone that wasn’t the dude she had just laid low. “Tell me what you think of this?”

A kick to the stomach folded Cassie like a flimsy sheet of paper, and almost made her lose her dinner. She gagged trying to regain her breath. Through the haze of pain, a thought came to her,
Asshole hadn’t come alone
. The taste of iron filled her mouth, as Asshole’s two friends rained blows down on her. She curled into a ball, and covered her head.

The punishment stopped suddenly. There was a scuffling noise, and then Blondie’s voice echoed in the parking lot. “Two on one? That’s just not cool, man.”

“She’s a wanted felon, dumbass,” Mr. Right Hook spat.

Cassie rolled away from the bounty hunters, and staggered to her feet.

Blondie had a hold of Right Hook, while the other guy crouched in indecision of whether to go after Cassie, or help his friend.

“That’s bullshit!” Cassie lied, jabbing a finger at the pair. “These guys were looking for a good time!” It was a dirty move, but she wasn’t going back with them—no matter what.

That was enough for Blondie. He slugged Mr. Right Hook in the face, and the fight was back on. Mr. Indecision came at Cassie with another pair of handcuffs. He didn’t charge like the first guy. Instead he circled her with caution, looking for an opening. Little did he know, it wouldn’t do him any good.

Cassie’s anger was up, as well as her power. Energy coursed through her veins like liquid fire. Whenever that happened, people got hurt. A voice in the back of her head pleaded with her to stay calm, but it was starting to weaken in the face of her building rage. Five years was a long time to deal with this kind of shit, and she’d had about enough. In an attempt to force the bounty hunter’s hand, she pretended to slip on the slick pavement.

Mr. Indecision went for the bait, and rushed in. He tried to get a cuff around her wrist.

Cassie stepped aside, and punched his hand as hard as she could.

Bones shattered, and the man screamed. He fell to his knees, clutching his mangled hand.

“I told you to just go away, but no, you wouldn’t listen,” Cassie ranted. She stalked over to an old pickup, and punched the door. Her fist and arm went right through the metal exterior, and into the cab.
Ease down
. She took a deep breath.
You don’t want to kill someone...again
. She pulled her arm free, and glared down at the bounty hunter.

His eyes had gone wide, and he scrambled to get away from her, as best he could. He finally got to his feet, and ran.

Other books

Loving Jiro by Jordyn Tracey
A Closed Eye by Anita Brookner
Uneasy alliances - Thieves World 11 by Robert Asprin, Lynn Abbey
Snow by Ronald Malfi
The Verdict by Nick Stone
All That Man Is by David Szalay
Hunger and Thirst by Richard Matheson
Electric Blue by Nancy Bush