Marked by Hades (2 page)

Chapter Three

Music streamed through the small bar, drowning any worries working to float into Yvonne’s mind. But it didn’t quite keep out the recurring thought that kept her awake: she’d killed someone. Turned him to dust.

Her gut roiled as she slammed another shot of tequila, then bit into her lime. She slapped the glass onto the bar and nodded for the bartender to pour another.

It’d been two weeks since that kind man had literally bit the dust after she’d touched him, but every waking minute, she saw his face. And when she tried to sleep, which she didn’t much, his kind smile, eyes, and touch steamrolled over her.

Now wearing a barrier of black leather over most of her body to protect anything and everything she touched, Yvonne remained isolated. Alone. Nothing of her memory had come back. Not even a flicker.

“What’s your name, honey?” A guy who reeked of body odor sat next to her, nearly brushing her shoulder.

Even over the heavy scent of sugar, liquor, and cologne-drenched bodies, she smelled onions, sweat, and beer. Talk about making her want to puke.

“Get away from me,” she said as she reached for her drink. Just a few more, and she’d be numb again. She wouldn’t have to think about the man she’d killed.

Thank God for cash-paying day jobs where no one asked questions.

The bartender smirked and waved the guy off. “Leave her alone, Adam. She’ll kick your ass sideways if you touch her.”

True. Much to Yvonne’s surprise, she was strong. A petite five-foot-four, she’d tossed around two guys who tried to touch her just last night. She’d probably saved their lives by doing so.

The creep waddled away, muttering a few curse words in her direction, and she returned her focus to the bartender.

A five o’clock shadow dusted his smooth ivory skin. Bright-green eyes, almost the same color as hers, and a tiny scar at the corner of his right eye drew a smile from her. Another pure soul. Somehow, she could tell about a person. The ones who were kind, good, she was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. These people drew her in, fueled her desire to touch and be around them. But why?

All she wanted was to be held. Touched. Loved. Fate totally and completely screwed her over with this no-touching thing.

“You okay?” the bartender asked. She’d never gotten his name, and she didn’t want to know it, either. Too personal. Yet she came to this bar every night as if she were a glutton for punishment. Watching something she could never have.

“I’m fine. Thanks for shoving him off. I wasn’t in the mood to throw anyone a beating.” One gulp finished her shot. “Hit me again.”

“Six so far. Rough day?”

She’d worked hard today in someone’s field, digging a trench of some sort. Logically, she knew she should be completely tired and sore from all the labor, but she wasn’t.

Despite the six shots in a matter of twenty minutes, she was revved up. For two weeks, she’d used the library’s free internet, searching for who—or what—she might be, and each day, her frustration built. Her desire to touch someone—not just anyone, a pure soul—increased. Her desire to be close to someone, to make love, multiplied. The idea of feeling skin on skin energized her mood more and more until she nearly vibrated from the inside out.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She cringed at the question. So far she’d lasted all these days without giving out her name or getting anyone’s. Might be time to move to another bar. Hell, it was time to get out of town, but something kept her here. Fear maybe? She’d woken up here, not remembering anything about herself, where she’d come from—this town was the only place she knew.

In a city this small, she should have bumped into someone who knew her, especially since she’d combed the city three times over, searching for something she recognized. And from what she’d researched in the county’s public records, no one had filed a missing person’s report for her, either.

It was as if she’d been dumped here somehow. But by whom?

Instead of answering the sweet bartender’s question, she gulped her drink, then pushed away from the bar.

The stool creaked over the wooden floor, and she jumped down. “See ya.”

“Take care.” He dipped his chin slightly.

She stole through the meager Tuesday evening crowd. Couples clutched each other on the dance floor, and a few made out in the corners or at their tables.

So much holding hands and kissing. Mingling. Being close.

Her mind spun, and she palmed a nearby table to steady herself. A broad-chested guy sitting at the table alone caught her attention. He had striking black hair, eyes bluer than the deep parts of the ocean, and a tight, square jaw.

He made no move to help her, but her insides shattered.
Pure soul
screamed through her mind, stealing her breath. Her heart pounded, and her palms went sweaty. Images of touching his bare chest flashed through her head. Swallowing a moan, her belly warmed, the heat streaking south in a hurry.

Stumbling, still locked in a stare-down with him, the back of her thigh met another table. Damn, they were so close together, blocking her attempt to get away from this beautiful man.

She turned a circle and got her bearings. The guy still watched her, but his eyebrows pulled together, and a frown claimed his plump, shiny lips.

He’d just licked them, hadn’t he?

Yvonne pushed off the table and sped toward the door. She needed to get the hell out of there before she gave in to her desire to touch him.

She didn’t want to kill anyone. Especially not someone as beautiful as that.

Once through the door, she sprinted around the corner and into the alley. Her chest heaved, sucking in the arctic air. It really wasn’t that cold out, but her body had heated so much looking at that black-haired beauty in there, bathwater would have felt cold.

Resting her head against the brick, she fisted her hands at her side. Distant voices drew her attention to the entrance of the alley. Two girls sauntered by, talking about finding a guy for the night.

If only Yvonne could.

Well, she could, but he’d be dust.

She dug out the last of her cash from her pocket, and a quick count showed it was only enough for one more night in her hotel room. Looked like she’d be headed to the homeless shelter sooner rather than later.

Head down, she made her way onto the sidewalk toward her hotel, refusing to look back to the bar. Going there again wasn’t an option, not if there was a possibility of running into that beautiful-souled guy.

He had nearly glowed with purity, and for some reason, it was so enticing—luring. A smile wandered across her face as she imagined what it’d be like to kiss him, hold him close, and feel his skin. What did his voice sound like?

“So, too good for everyone?” A man’s voice spilled out of the alley just past the gas station a block from her hotel.

Hairs on her arm bristled. The voice belonged to the creep from the bar. Picking up the pace, she veered toward the late-night coffeehouse across the street. He wouldn’t try anything in a public place. That was the theory, anyway.

Iron-hard fingers clamped around her arm above the elbow. How’d he move so fast?

She grabbed his digits and wrenched them up, cracking the knuckles until they sounded like popcorn. His bellow sent a chill racing down her spine.

With a quick spin, she planted her hand to his chest. He flew up three feet and crashed into the brick building with a thud. Yvonne was on him in a flash. How she knew the moves that allowed her to handle him so easily were beyond her, but she went with it, because hate oozed off him in thick waves. There was nothing pure in him.

No, this guy was dark. Vile.

Touch him
.

The urge popped into her thoughts and wrapped around her like a dark, suffocating cloud.

Kill. Do it now.

She curled her gloved fingers around his throat and squeezed, pinning him to the wall.

Images flashed in her mind of him standing naked, hammering into a prone female. The girl cried, reaching for something in front of her. Agony ripped through Yvonne, and she shook her head free of the horrible visual.

The images scattered, but not the feelings of anger. Regret. Shame.

“What have you done?” she yelled, suddenly feeling dirty. Her heart ached for the girl she’d seen in her mind’s eye.

Darkness clawed at the corners of her vision.

“Bitch.” The man spat in her face.

Red-hot anger stormed through her chest, and she hiked up her knee, connecting with his most prized body part.

She fisted her hand in his hair, pulled up, then rammed his head into the brick and brought her gloved fingers to her mouth. With the leather captured between her teeth, she started peeling away the protective barrier.

Yes. This man needed to die. And she would gladly be his executioner.

Chapter Four

Justin pushed open the bar door and hurried into the streets, searching for the black-haired beauty who’d rushed out. Just after she’d left, he’d caught the scent of a demon. Nothing could mistake the rotten stench of evil.

What if the woman was in trouble?

If Theo wasn’t here to handle this demon, then that meant it wasn’t one that’d found its way out of Hades through one of the gates Theo guarded.

Good. A newbie demon.
Justin could handle those with a normal blade. Another sparring session to curb his restless energy was exactly what he needed, too, since he’d totally choked when that girl bumped into his table. And Justin
never
choked when it came to women.

He jogged down the sidewalk toward what looked like a coffee shop, though the lights had just clicked off. The streets were quiet, but the lack of light left room for lots of shadows.

A grunt from an alley to his left had him skidding to a stop, his skin prickling and the stench overwhelming him.
Demon
.

You okay?
Theo’s voice went off in Justin’s head.

Fine. Just stumbled on a demon. Gonna kick some ass.

Theo’s laugh echoed. Sending a newbie demon to Hades was something Justin could do as a Companion. But only a Gatekeeper to Hades, like Theo, could make a vanquishing eternally binding with a Mavet dagger. And this was most definitely a newbie, since they were only notified when those demons that’d already been vanquished to Hades escaped.

A creature lunged out from the darkness and tackled him at the waist. The cold pavement met Justin’s ass with a sting that zipped up the length of his spine.

He yanked his dagger from his ankle holster and jabbed. The creature squealed and rolled away, and they both hopped to their feet.

“You glow.” The demon stood straight. Fangs dropped from his mouth, and he tongued them as if he’d never felt them before.

“Oh, you
are
a newbie, aren’t you?” Justin laughed. “You so bumped into the wrong person tonight, buddy.”

The creature tensed, then looked up and down the street as if confused.

“Say hello to Lucifer,” Justin said as he swung his blade. The dumbass had left his neck exposed.

Dust billowed.
That’ll never get old
.

Justin patted his jeans, brushing away the ashy remains of the demon kill, and holstered his weapon. There was nobody around, so no minds to trance.

So much for blowing off steam, though. That thing wasn’t even close to the level of sparring Justin needed, but before he could return to the bar to find a beauty to do the bed-wrestle with, another grunt stopped him.

A gurgle.

He took off only to stop short just past a gas station. In the dim light from the moon, he saw the girl from the bar pinning a fat dude to the wall in the alley with only her hand around his neck.

And she held him two feet off the ground!

Black hair spilled down to the middle of her back and blended with her black leather top and pants. And those long, black gloves. God, that was sexy. She had to be freezing wearing a sleeveless shirt, even with the gloves going past her elbows.

Wait, her free arm was bare.

Justin stepped into the alley.

“You’re a pig,” she said to the man. Her voice had gone low, raspy. She slapped her bare hand to the guy’s cheek. His mouth went wide, eyes fixed. In the next breath, the human disintegrated into an ash-colored plume of dust.

What. The. Hell?

…

Yvonne fell forward when the disgusting pig disappeared. Energy coiled through her stomach, warming it. She’d touched human skin. Though his was a rancid soul, for a second, maybe two, she’d felt the warmth of his flesh before he vaporized. A warmth she craved more than the breath she needed to live.

He didn’t turn into that bright, beautiful hourglass sand, though. It was a dull, sooty gray dust. Probably reflected the color of his soul.

Or lack thereof.

She’d accurately interpreted what she’d felt and seen in the images that flashed through her mind…he was evil.

But what the hell was she?

She squatted and sifted through the dust to find her glove. If only the guy’s wallet hadn’t vaporized. The money would have come in handy. But like the nice man who’d helped her at Riley Park, every bit of him disintegrated when she’d touched him. Clothing, jewelry, hair…everything.

Her heart cramped at the thought of the man who’d helped her. She’d been sick for days after that incident, but why didn’t remorse ramp through her with this guy?

Because he was evil.
Yes, that felt right. Just as she sensed pure souls, she sensed his darkness. So her power couldn’t be all bad, right? She gulped down the nerves, because much like the evil she’d sensed in the dude from the bar, she felt a small part in her. As if there’d been a kinship of some sort.

“Shit.” Where was her glove? She raked through the soot and finally landed on something smooth and cool. Her protection. Her barrier from the world.

She fisted the bundle of leather and stood, shaking it out. It was either the fight or the chill in the air finally reaching through her fevered skin that sent a shiver down her back. She’d have to scrounge up a sweatshirt if she was going to be sleeping on the streets tomorrow night.

But first, a warm shower, because there was no telling when she’d get enough money for another night at a hotel.

Goose bumps crawled up her neck, and she stopped walking as she worked the leather glove up the length of her arm. Must be the aftermath of what she’d done to that man. Not that she felt remorse, but to have such a lethal ability…it had to come with a price.

She hated not knowing. Why couldn’t she remember anything? Yanking her glove up the rest of the way, she started walking again.

“You have a wicked touch there, girl.” A baritone voice flooded her senses, bathing her in warmth. A tingle zipped down her spine and coiled around her belly nice and low.

She bent her knees as she turned to the source of that mesmerizing voice.

The man from the bar.

His aura glowed like the sun, and she squinted. The corner of his mouth curled up in the sexiest half grin she’d ever seen. Then again, she couldn’t remember anything about her life before two weeks ago, so she may have seen that smile before and not known it.

But damn, it was sexy.

Wait. Had he seen her kill that guy?

She inched to the side, prepping to escape. Analyzing her, the guy crossed his bulky arms over his brawny chest. Dark shaggy hair dusted the tops of his shoulders. He wore a black leather jacket, blue jeans, and black combat boots. Her instincts screamed amazing sex, but she shook the thought off. No, she needed to focus and find a way out of this if he’d seen something.

He stood, feet shoulder-width apart, staring as if waiting for her to talk.

Screw that. She turned and ran. Pumping her arms as hard and as fast as she could, she sped down the sidewalk toward her hotel.

A quick turn into the park she’d been found in, and she hurdled the first set of bushes she saw. Squatting behind the foliage, she clamped her hand over her mouth to mask her heavy breathing.

The guy stampeded past her, and after she was sure he was gone, she finally let out her breath.
That was too close
.

She stood and headed in the opposite direction. He’d seen what she’d done, and there was no telling what he might do to her if he caught up with her again.

Time to bolt.