HYBRID

HYBRID

Demon Chaser

(Book 3)

By

Charlene Hartnady

Copyright and Disclaimer

Copyright ©April 2014, Charlene Hartnady

Cover Art by Melody Simmons

Copy Edited by Kimberly Reichmann

Produced in South Africa

Published by Charlene Hartnady

PO BOX 456, Melrose Arch,

Johannesburg, South Africa, 2176

[email protected]

HYBRID is a work of fiction and characters, events and dialogue found within are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, either living or deceased, is purely coincidental.

With the exception of quotes used in reviews no part of this book may be reproduced or shared in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including but not limited to digital copying, file sharing, audio recording, email and printing without prior consent in writing from the author

Chapter 1

Even with her eyes shut she could still see the blood spray from the wound. Then there was the smell. A rusty stench so strong she could taste it. Deep breaths in...out and in again. She bit down hard praying that her sharp teeth would recede. Praying that control, or at least a resemblance of control, would return. The sooner the better. Her nail beds still tingled. This could only mean one thing, her hands still possessed dagger like claws. How in the hell had she gone from being a preschool teacher to this?

A monster. A killer. Far worse.

Deep down she was still the same person. She was still Brice Darkstead. She still had a family who loved her and friends who cared. Although it felt like that part of her life had ended a million years ago.

It wasn’t easy, but she continued to try to control her breathing. Her breaths were still fast and choppy. She needed to slow down, which was hard since the thing inside her loved the violence. It hummed with the sheer ecstasy of having made a potential kill.

Her victim moaned. The desperate sound clawed at her and she hissed. The thing wanted at him, it wanted to finish the job. It became even more ecstatic at the prospect of his pending death.

Another agonising moan, it took a moment to realise that the sound had come from her this time. She felt desperate. He was just an old man for God’s sake; he hadn’t meant to startle her and meant her no harm.
He did not deserve to die
. If the thing didn’t settle down soon, she would claw out her own throat to stop it. All this running and hiding, as well as the dirt and filth, was getting to her. This was no life and there wasn’t much to lose.

Heaven help her
.

“No..,” she moaned this time more loudly, having to work that much harder to keep herself under control. She lifted her right hand to her neck, preparing to do what she needed to stop herself from killing the man. She felt such sorrow at the prospect of ending her life like this, but what choice did she have? The thing inside her pulled back instantly. It was still very much there though, like a house full of explosives on a sweltering day, anything liable to set it off. Her mind was still clouded with thoughts of death but at least the capability to think beyond the murder of an innocent man returned as the thing withdrew.

Brice risked opening her eyes while still making every effort to breathe slowly.

“Please,” the old man croaked. He watched her through terrified eyes. His shirt was torn and bloody, his chest a criss-cross of angry red slashes. She breathed out a sigh of relief, he would live.

“I’m sorry.” She scurried back, standing once she was a small distance away.

A Good Samaritan had tossed her a few coins this morning. Although she’d planned on buying a chocolate bar, those plans had changed. She’d use the money to call for help instead. There was a pay phone a few blocks away. She remembered seeing it because she had wondered if anyone still used a pay phone these days.

 As she made her way through the streets, Brice prayed that no one would try to jump her. Usually by this time of night she would be holed up and well hidden behind a dumpster, or under boxes in one of the side alleys. After living on the streets the last few months, she’d learned where the safest places were. She may as well have a neon sign attached to her forehead right now though, because wandering around like this would draw the attention of all the lowlifes and cops within a hundred miles, or at least that’s how she felt. She knew with absolute certainty that if either crossed paths with her at this moment, it would mean their certain death. She didn’t want any more blood on her hands, so she stuck to the shadows.

Her whole body shook as she picked up the phone and inserted the coins. She kept the message short, relaying where the old beggar could be found and hung up. Now to high tail it out of here. She knew of a safe place nearby. Another long, sleepless night lay ahead. There would be no rest for her ever again.

Chapter 2

Garrett felt the edge of his mind prickle.

He knew the feeling well, the sign of an oncoming premonition. Drawing on a lifetime of experience, he allowed himself to be drawn in. At least that way the whole process was painless and would be over much quicker. There was no point in fighting the inevitable.

Still, he didn’t have to like it.

As soon as traffic allowed, he pulled over onto a quiet side street, switched off the engine, and closed his eyes. The sensations increased. It felt like a hand was kneading his brain. Pulling, tugging. Forceful and determined, the vision would demand freedom if it had to. Images flooded his mind, images of a woman, long chocolate locks in a wild tangle around a startlingly attractive face, her full lips parted in…pleasure. His view expanded and his cock swelled.

The woman was naked and beautiful.

Slim with breasts that would fit a man’s hands. Only just. She seemed to be straddling someone. Heaven help him, but the way she moved and arched her back had his balls tightening. His gaze was first drawn to her eyes, glazed and hooded with desire, then down to her nipples, tight, begging for attention. On and on she rocked before flinging her head back in a silent moan. So sensuous, he had to grab hold of his cock and squeeze to try and stop himself from shooting off.

His visions were always vivid, but he never felt them this bone-deep. This was like living the moment instead of watching from the outside. The stranger rocked harder, faster. He could sense she was about to come hard. Damn, but so was he. Garrett clamped down harder trying to stop the build. He fought for control. The view expanded more. It was of her lover from behind.
Lucky bastard.
The man lifted his hands and palmed her breasts, raking his thumbs over her nipples. The sensation of holding those full orbs, touching her hard nubs, filtered through to his own hands and he moaned, unable to stop himself.

Garrett was losing this battle. Any second now and he was going to come. Right here. Right now. Right into his pants, like a school boy for God’s sake, and he was helpless to stop it. This beautiful woman, who smelt of reckless abandon and embodied every fantasy he had ever had, was pulling him over the edge. This wasn’t even reality even though it sure felt like it. She threw her head back and the view expanded some more. He noticed two things at once. Both shocked him intensely.

The man he saw in the vision was himself. As soon as the realization hit, he meshed with the other version of himself in the premonition. All at once the sensations became more acute. He grit his teeth. This was the first time he had ever had a vision of himself.

The other revelation was far worse. The woman’s neck was all torn up or at least had been some time recently. It was road mapped with angry red scars all across one side spilling over onto her shoulder. He’d been too preoccupied with her face and those incredible breasts to notice. And with trying not to fucking come. Now that he saw the scars, he wondered how he could have missed them.

The pulling and kneading on his brain became a demanding squeeze. He’d been trying to hold back the rest of his vision. It was pointless though since it would happen whether he liked it or not. He let it claim him again.

The woman’s head was still thrown back but now it slowly dropped down. Her eyes met his. They glowed like burned umber. That should’ve concerned him except for one little annoying thing, he was about to come. His balls were so tight that they were just about sitting in his throat. His cock so hard, it throbbed both with pleasure and pain. She kept pumping. Relentless.

Then suddenly everything changed. One minute he was about to come harder than he’d ever come before, and the next her teeth turned into fangs. They were long and sharp, like something from a horror movie. Her face shimmered and lost its shape for a few seconds before returning to its original form. Then she dropped those dagger-like teeth onto his neck, intent on ripping him apart. He screamed in both the present and the future. The vision ended.

****

Don’t panic. Whatever you do Brice just stay calm.

Bad things happened when she became too emotional. Things she couldn’t afford to think about right now. Maybe they hadn’t seen her. It was still possible she could turn and walk away. Blue lights flashed the moment she showed her back, dancing in the dusk-streaked sky. Maybe they were looking for someone else. Not her. The panic grew. She was learning to trust her sixth sense.

In the weeks following her…accident, she’d developed a gut feeling for things, like who to trust and who to avoid, which direction to take and how to find food. Even how to fend for herself on the streets. Everything inside her told her to run, to get the hell out of there. Her life depended on it. So she took off as fast as her legs would carry her. The cops hopped back in their vehicle, evidently deciding it was easier than chasing her on foot.
Stupid.
Brice turned the very next corner and headed up a busy one way street, forcing them to waste precious time re-exiting the vehicle. Just the lucky break she needed. She was losing them, and couldn’t help but smile.

That was when the car hit her.

It reversed straight out of nowhere. The funny thing was that it hadn’t even been travelling fast. Her own momentum resulted in an impact hard enough to knock her to the ground. Brice shook her head a few times before her focus winked back. Something hot and wet stung her right eye and blurred her vision. She used her hand to rub it away. Her panic levels shot back up when she saw that her fingers were covered in blood.
Her blood
. She had to move, and had to do it now.

A man bent over her. The driver of the vehicle? Even if she cared, there was no time to find out. Ignoring him, she tried to stand. Her right ankle refused to take her weight. Sharp pains shot up her leg and her sneaker already felt tight.
Shit on toast with raspberry jelly
. In just a few short seconds she’d be captured. And this she knew without an inkling of doubt, would lead to death. Possibly her own or even worse, theirs.

Brice looked up at the man who had done this to her as he grabbed her in what seemed like an attempt to steady her. His jaw was clenched and his brow creased. Severe, hard, yet concerned. At first his gaze showed confusion and then fleetingly turned to recognition as his steel grey eyes narrowed into hers. If he thought he knew her, he was wrong. 

“Help me.” It didn’t come out sounding as forceful as she’d hoped. More of a desperate whisper really.

The dark-haired stranger didn’t have time to answer because the cops had arrived. Curly and Mo were both overweight and puffing hard. Shit, she was beginning to feel tingly. This had happened before…just before…she lost control. She couldn’t allow that to happen now.
Breathe. Relax.

Don’t panic.

“Good day!” The fatter of the two cops nodded at the tall guy who held her. “Thank-you for your assistance in apprehending our suspect. We’ll take it from here.”

“Can I see some form of identification please?” The driver of the car spoke in a clipped tone, laced with authority. For the first time in months, she felt herself calm. Felt the thing that had taken residence inside her recede. She actually felt normal.
Almost
.

“We’re in uniform,” the other cop answered, his cheeks flushed.

“Don’t have to show you shit.” It was fatty; he swiped a meaty hand across his shiny forehead.

“We’ll be on our way then.” The driver hoisted her up, fitting her snugly into the crook of his arm. She sighed. Not just any sigh, but one of utter contentment. It just slipped out, like being in his arms was the most natural thing in the whole world. It felt good. Her eyes slipped closed so she could savor the moment.