“Shit, yeah, it did… If I’d known you were this powerful, we could have done this earlier.”
“I didn’t even know I could do that.”
Gunn’s gaze fixed on the satanic goose figurine, and he was tempted to smash it to smithereens, but that might release the fiend. “The speck’s trapped in there, right?” he asked.
Cyra knelt next to Henry, helping him stay upright. “Should be.”
Still cautious, he picked up the thing by its neck and opened the bottom door to the display cabinet. With the bird jammed in there, he shut it inside and dragged one of the single couches in front of the doors for good measure.
One fucker down. Another to go.
Dusting off his hands, he faced the room. The old man was rubbing his head and stared around with a petrified look.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Cyra took Henry’s elbow and guided him to a sofa.
“Darn thing came out of nowhere and attacked Nora. I tried to stop it, but it was fast and so vicious.”
Nora was next to him, holding his hand with more compassion in her gaze than Gunn had seen since entering their home. She definitely still cared for her husband, despite her anger toward him. His foster parents used to argue, but they had a saying that if you’re upset about something, talk about it before going to sleep that night. Don’t carry troubles into a new day. If these two chatted more, it might help.
He straightened his back, close to laughing at himself for sounding like a marriage counselor. With his last real relationship resulting in Cherri-Anne’s death, he was the least qualified person to give such advice.
Turning to Cyra, she met his stare and offered a half-smile. Genuine and sweet, warmth flooded him. He’d spent the last few weeks avoiding Cyra, and what good had that done? The moment he’d found himself alone with her, he’d taken her virginity. Hell. Chase was going to murder him. But, to be fair, she hadn’t hesitated in the slightest and her honeyed scent still twirled in his nostrils.
He had tasted her, and now it had become clear as day that he’d gotten himself into a whole lot of shit. She’d awakened something that had been dormant inside him for too long. Plus, he’d discovered a new side to Cyra, a strong woman who stood up for herself, and someone he respected for her tenacity.
The problem came down to where Cyra and he would end up. Part of him demanded he shove aside his past, but that same dread crippled him, reminding him of what he’d done to Cherri-Anne. And he’d rather die than ever place Cyra in the face of death. She was new to Argos and didn’t have his experience with demons. The terrifying thing was that if he was faced with a decision right this moment, him or her being possessed by a demon, he would choose to take both their lives. That way no one else would die. In hindsight, he should have made that decision two years ago with Cherri-Anne.
He hated himself, ashamed of his decision. Other hunters kept telling him that was the risk in the hunting business, and he either had to deal with it or regret would consume him. So he’d dealt with the fucked-up shit the only way he’d known how. Never getting close to anyone. For years, his decision had been chewing on his sanity, and dread remained locked in his stomach. There was no turning back time, and with each passing day, helplessness pounded with futility in his head. The muscles across his back tensed like they always did when he remembered Cherri-Anne.
“Are you even listening to me or are you fantasizing in La-La Land?” Cyra slouched on one leg, her hands on her hips.
He breached the distance between them with two steps and grabbed her elbow. “Let’s talk.”
She glanced over at Henry and Nora, who sat in silence. “We won’t be long,” Cyra explained with a smile. He ought to learn some tricks from her for putting people at ease.
“Please don’t leave us,” Nora said, her eyes huge and glistening.
“We’ll just be outside the room,” Gunn said, drawing Cyra halfway down the corridor, out of earshot. He looked up to make sure no mistletoe dangled above them or they’d end up having sex aerobics up against the wall. Not that the idea didn’t stir his urges, but they had to deal with the demonic house first and then he had to decide what to do about what he’d started with Cyra.
An eerie melody started playing quietly in the background, and no way in hell was Henry or Nora doing that. It reminded him of the music in horror movies just before the serial killer struck. “What the fuck’s happening now?” he mumbled under his breath.
Cyra slid free from his hold and hugged herself. “I don’t know what to do next to get us out of the house.” Her confession surprised him, as she seemed the kind to argue until she turned blue before admitting defeat, but then again, they were in a circus of a situation.
“Your spell has us trapped. Can you do a reversal spell or some counter-hex?”
She rubbed her chin while her lips pinched tightly, and his thoughts flew to how sweet they tasted. How he’d love them wrapped around his cock. With a long exhale, he stiffened and pushed those desires away. Okay, control. I have none.
“It might be possible,” she replied.
“Might is better than nothing. After seeing you freeze that zombie goose, I know you can do this.” His hand ran down her arm, though he didn’t remember moving, but his desires were out of his control in this house. He needed to keep his wits or
