Seducing the Hunter. Vivi Anna

the shit has hit the fan. First Ronan and your sister, and now you. Something major is happening, I suspect.”

      He sighed, then met her gaze. “The key is gone. Stolen by the Cabal.”

      Quianna bolted out of her chair and came around the desk. She was a compact woman, short and petite, but she possessed more fire in her pinkie than most people did in their whole bodies. She pinned him to the seat with her intense, determined gaze.

      “How?”

      “Richter Collins is how. And he had a goblin with him.”

      She shook her head. “I thought that once Reginald died, the Cabal would fall. I guess I was wrong.”

      “I should’ve been more diligent in hiding the key. I had been planning to move it...”

      “Well, what’s done is done. Now, what are we going to do about it?”

      “That’s why I came. I thought if anyone would know what to do, it would be you.”

      She sat on the edge of her desk. “You have to find the chest. You have to get it before they do.”

      He groaned. “I was hoping there was another way.”

      “There isn’t. If they have the key, they will be going for the chest. That’s just logical.”

      Quinn leaned forward and put his head in his hands. He had been hoping for another answer. Another way to solve the problem.

      “I take it you know where it is?” She eyed him curiously.

      He shook his head. “Not where. But I know someone who knows.”

      “By the look on your face, I’d say this someone is pretty bad.”

      “You could say that.”

      She nudged him with her foot. “Well, man up, Quinn. Whatever you have to do, you better do it. This isn’t some small problem. We’re talking end of days stuff, here. If the Cabal finds that chest and uses that book, it won’t matter who this person is, because we’ll all be dead.”

      “When I find the chest and the book, what do I do with them?”

      “Bring the book to me. I know a place where even demons fear to tread. I can keep it safe there.”

      Quinn left Quianna’s office with a deep sinking feeling in his gut. It almost made him sick to think about what he had to do to find the chest. But the powerhouse professor had been right, he had to man up and do what needed to be done. No one else was going to do it. He had been entrusted with the key and he had lost it. It had been his responsibility. Now finding the chest was his as well. He was the only one on Earth who could do it. He just had a pit stop to make first.

      The new age store located downtown looked like any other crystal and tarot shop. Mary, the proprietor, doled out spiritual wisdom and metaphysical prophecy to every patron that passed through her doors. But when Quinn walked in, she frowned deeply and shook her head.

      “I was having a good day,” she said.

      “Hey, Mary, how’s business?”

      “On the light side.” She moved her hefty frame around the counter to stand in front of him. The beads on her wrists clicked when she moved. The scent of patchouli and lavender wafted to his nose. “But I take it, since you’re here, that’s going to change.”

      “I need some supplies.”

      She sighed heavily, as though she was going to deny him, but she swept her arm toward the back curtain. She never said no; she just liked to put on the drama. She knew he was one of her best customers. He and the Crimson Hall Cabal.

      “Come on, then.”

      Quinn followed her into the back where she kept her stores of “other” types of metaphysical supplies. The type reserved for those who dabbled in the darker side of the magical arts.

      “What do you need?”

      Quinn examined the shelves of bottles and tins. “Goofer dust, asafoetida, horehound, another blessed chalk stick and some yarrow.”

      Mary narrowed her eyes at him. “Who are you calling?”

      He shrugged. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “The stuff you’re asking for, Quinn, is for calling forth a powerful demon and keeping it in line. Who is it?”

      “It doesn’t matter. Do you have the stuff or not?” He pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket.

      She nodded and went to the shelves to start pulling down jars. “I have everything you need.” She stacked it all on the table. She sighed. “Between you and the Cabal, I’m surprised demons aren’t running amok on this plane.”

      Quinn opened his leather satchel and shoved the ingredients inside. He peeled off money and handed it to her.

      Mary slid it into the pocket of her flowered housedress but pinned him with a hard glare. “Be careful, Quinn. You’re playing with fire.”

      He nodded. “I know. But it has to be done.” Closing his bag, he hefted it onto his shoulder and left the store, his heart as heavy as the bag he carried.

      When he got home, he went straight down to the basement to prepare. Using his new blessed chalk he drew a large pentagram on the cement floor, inscribing it with familiar symbols. Symbols he’d been using his whole life as an exorcist and demon hunter. He left two open triangles in the pentagram. This was where he would put the two sigils that would call the demon he needed. They’d been burned into his memory. But for different reasons.

      He chalked them in. Around the pentagram he sifted a thick line of goofer dust. It was a protective circle. The demon couldn’t cross it if Quinn didn’t want it to. And until he got a binding agreement, he didn’t plan on letting the demon go anywhere.

      Once that was done, Quinn set everything aside, lit seven white candles and started the ritual.

      In Latin, he spoke the words to invoke the spell, then he called the demon using its real name. The one that gave him power over it.

      “I call you, Daeva, Seductress of Shadows.”

      At first nothing happened, and Quinn wondered if he’d mistakenly written the symbols backward or upside down. But then a slight breeze blew through the basement. None of the windows were open. Then came the smell. The delectable scent of cinnamon. He tried not to inhale it. But it was difficult not to. Cinnamon had always been one of his favorite smells. It made his gut clench with the memories it brought.

      Three popping sounds echoed in the room. Like fingers snapping.

      Then it appeared.

      Dressed in tight black pants, black leather knee-high boots and a sapphire-blue blouse that accentuated full, firm breasts, the demon smiled at him, and he couldn’t suppress the shiver that raced down his back.

      “Hello, lover.”

       Chapter 5

      “You look surprised to see me, Quinn.” Tilting her head, she looked him up and down. “Oh, that’s right. You never did get to see me in my preferred form. You were so quick to get rid of me. Never gave me a chance to introduce myself properly.”

      It had been three years since Daeva had seen Quinn Strom. And she had to admit that he looked as dangerous and delicious as ever. His inner darkness called to her like a moth to a flame. But she couldn’t let him see that. She couldn’t let him have the upper hand here. She’d never give it to him again.

      “How’s my favorite exorcist?”

      “I didn’t call you to have a trite and pointless conversation.”

      “No? Too bad. That’s definitely