“I know enough,” she explained, controlling her shaky voice, swallowing past the mountain wedged in her throat. She blinked rapidly to stop the tears that threatened to escape, loathing where this conversation was headed. “I’ve heard about your past. You lost an innocent to a demon. Everyone knows. But it’s not your fault, and you can’t put your life on hold because of a mistake.”
Paleness slid across his cheeks, and he gritted his teeth.
Taking a breath seemed impossible as she waited for him to speak.
“It wasn’t a mistake.” His voice climbed. “I sacrificed her to save myself. That’s what happened. So I’m a coward, a murderer. And not a day passes when I don’t think about what I did to Cherri-Anne.”
Cyra lost her words, unable to connect the dots, yet dread sat quietly in her chest, leaving her smothered by an invisible hand. Chase had told her Gunn had gotten ambushed and an innocent had died. So what was Gunn talking about?
“I d…don’t believe you.” She retreated until her back hit the counter, but he followed her, his shoulders rigid, his eyes wild.
“When a demon captures a seasoned hunter, they get access to their memories, who all the demon hunters are, their families and friends. The demons then target them until they kill every single one. That’s why when a hunter gets possessed, Argos sends a priority alert to every hunter to find them and kill them if needed.” He paused and his breath hitched as he glanced at the window and back, his eyes glazed over.
This was news to her, and it terrified her to think that hunters not only faced Hell but had a noose dangling over their heads if they slipped up. The protection tattoo everyone received at Argos was created with strong spells to stop possession. Did it not always work? Her heart pounded, and her pulse throbbed in her ears, drowning out Gunn’s words.
She was scared for Gunn, for Chase, and for everyone else at Argos.
“Cherri-Anne and I had been dating for six months,” he continued, his posture stiff and his words fast, as if stopping wasn’t an option. “She had no clue what I did for a job. When the fucker made me choose whose soul it would take, I refused to select at first.” His voice faltered and his clenched hands trembled. “I wanted to hand myself over, but that meant the demon would hunt down every Argos hunter I knew and all their families to make us pay for vanquishing their kind. Hundreds of people would die. When the demon laughed at how it would kill her slowly and then possess me, I made a choice. And I hate myself for it every second of the day.”
A sickening fear strangled Cyra, her mind spinning at learning what Gunn had done. The rawness of his tragedy stabbed at her insides.
“God!”
Terror had her frozen in place as its icy daggers pierced her heart. Would she have surrendered herself to save one person, knowing so many others would perish? She never wanted to face such a choice because whatever decision she made, it would haunt her for eternity.
“You’re not selfish or a coward, you know that, right?” Her words came out breathy.
He shook his head. “If faced with that situation again, I can’t guarantee I’ll save you. I want you more than I’ve ever desired anyone, but I won’t put you in that position.”
Without another word, he turned and vanished into the hall.
Cyra’s legs wobbled at the onslaught Gunn had dumped on her. Fuck! How was she supposed to respond to hearing his defeated approach to life, and the tragedy that had indeed broken him?
Chapter 11
Gunn
Conjuring images of calm blue skies and a tranquil lake didn’t reduce Gunn’s anxiety one fucking inch. So much for spending thousands on a therapist. Instead, he worked through his feelings old style—pacing back and forth, playing out the blackened memories inside his head.
It had been two years since Cherri-Anne’s death, and still the memory sat like a tsunami on repeat in his mind, drowning him, killing him over and over. He’d vowed to never tell a soul, to let everyone believe he hadn’t been able to save her. Yeah, that made him a fucking coward. But he could barely live with himself, let alone see the judgement in everyone’s eyes. He’d fucked up, and those dark times would plague him into the afterlife.
He ran a finger across several healed cuts along his neck from where he’d ridden his bike into a concrete wall on purpose. If Chase hadn’t tracked him down and found him bleeding to death, Gunn would be long gone. Was staying behind any better?
“Choose,” the horned bastard had grunted to Gunn, licking its lips with a black tongue. It seized Cherri-Anne by the throat, lifting her off the ground.
Desperation pushed Gunn forward and he charged, his fists clenched. But with a flick of the demon’s hand, an invisible force slammed into his chest. He gasped as his lungs emptied, and he hit the bedroom wall before crumbling. The shock ricocheted through his skull.
“Cherri-Anne,” he called out. His mind started to fail, unable to formulate a plan when fear hammered into him, screaming that he’d fail.
Her face turned blue, but she thrashed and punched for freedom, never giving up. That was his girl.
The monster cackled. Gunn trembled, staggering to unsteady legs.
Her fearful eyes stayed with Gunn. The sight choked the breath from his chest, and he admitted to himself he was scared to fail. Scared to lose her. Scared that everything happened too fast for him to get the upper hand and destroy the motherfucker. Sweat dripped down his spine, yet he trembled as if he’d fallen into icy waters.
A bony arm reached toward him, covered in dried mud, fingers
