Fighting Evil Read online

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2016 Mary Abshire

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-774-7

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Brieanna Robertson

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  FIGHTING EVIL

  Soul Catcher, 3

  Mary Abshire

  Copyright © 2016

  Chapter One

  Jeremy's fist shot at my face. I leaned back and twisted my head to the side, dodging the hit. Hand balled tight, I swung and landed a punch to his ribs. The impact created a solid thud. I thought I'd heard a snap, too. If I was lucky, I cracked a bone. I hoped I was lucky.

  Jeremy winced and took a step back, holding his arm across injured chest. "Bitch." His blurted term of endearment echoed in the empty karate school.

  I smiled as I stepped back, my bare feet padding across the blue mat. "I must be doing something right since you're calling me such lovely names."

  My heart thumped fast while I kept my hands clenched for another attack. I licked my lips and tasted blood along with the salty flavor of sweat. My bottom lip still bled from when Jeremy had hit me. My front teeth were sore, too. I was thankful he hadn't knocked a couple teeth loose.

  Scrubbing an arm over my forehead, I cleared the moisture threatening to fall into my eyes. Sweat poured from me in gallons. My tank top was soaked and I was half-tempted to rip off my sweat pants. We'd spent hours upon hours sparring and dancing around. At least I was finally getting some good shots at him.

  "Don't get cocky, Jessie." Jeremy stiffened. Sweat glistened on his forehead and drenched his short, light brown hair.

  He took a step forward without wincing. His ribs must have healed and he was ready to fight again. One of the benefits of having demon blood was the ability for our bones to mend quickly. Over the last week of combat training, I noticed Jeremy recovered faster than I did, but then, he was a full-blooded demon, whereas, I was only half.

  "Ready for another beating?" I teased, holding my fists in front of me.

  He hopped up and down like a bunny as he tilted his neck from side to side, stretching it. "Darling, I'm always ready for you."

  I charged, stopped, and spun, kicking a leg out. My ponytail smacked me in the face as I moved to sweep him off his feet. He leaped over my leg, then aimed his fist at my face. I was slow to respond and took the hit. My nose crunched and my head jerked back. Pain raced to my brain while blood dribbled over my lip.

  "Shit!" I spat as I backpedaled. I'd had my nose broken enough in the last two months to multiple lifetimes. One might think I would've learned by now to avoid a hit to the face, but no. The girly girl in me just wasn't fast enough. Hence, one reason to learn how to fight and defend myself.

  "Score another one for me." Jeremy grinned.

  I glowered at him as I wiped above my lip with the back of my hand.

  "Aw…did the soul catcher get hurt?" He bounced in position.

  "Keep it up and I'll be claiming your soul one day."

  He chuckled. "If you think that scares me, you're sorely mistaken. Hell is just another place for our souls to be together."

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, but it did little to ease the pain. Jeremy and I shared different beliefs on our future resting places. Because we were demons, he thought we were destined to go downstairs. I, on the other hand, believed I had a chance to end up somewhere better since I sent evil souls to Hell. Demon blood or not, we made our own choices and determined our own fate. My loving vampire boyfriend, Drake, taught me that.

  "Are you going to stand there and cry over a little blood or fight me?" Jeremy moved toward me like a boxer.

  Ignoring the burning sensation as my nose healed, I held my arms in front of me. Again, Jeremy came at me fast, swinging at my head. I ducked and spun, my leg sticking out. This time, I kicked his legs out from under him. He hit the mat with a hard thud and a whoosh of air expelled from him.

  Seeing I had the advantage, I kicked at his ribs. He caught my foot and shoved me. I stumbled back. As I regained my balance, he leaped to his feet.

  "Nice try," he said before he attacked, swinging his other arm.

  I dodged to the side, missing his blow. I quickly grabbed his forearm, then thrust the palm of my hand into the back of his elbow. His bone snapped like a thick branch and his arm bent in the opposite direction. A deep, throaty groan left his lips as he dropped to his knees, arm dangling at his side.

  I took a few steps back, giving him a moment to recuperate. "I think my score is higher than yours."

  Sweat dripped from his tilted head. He lifted it and glared at me. "We're not done yet."

  No, I didn't believe we were. Since it was Friday night, well, technically Saturday morning, Jeremy planned to stay until sunrise so we could make use of every minute for training. That was our deal. After my workday ended, my schooling began. He was teaching me to fight in case I needed to when I met with the VETOV, also known as Vampires for the Ethical Treatment of Other Vampires. With the meeting a week away, he had little time to prepare me.

  Jeremy rose, holding his arm straight. Sweat rolled down the sides of his face. Damp spots in the center of his t-shirt and under his arms had spread. He inhaled a deep breath and wiped the moisture from his eyes. "You just made a very big mistake."

  Wincing, he lifted his shirt over his head, then tossed it on the ground. The solid muscles on his chest glistened with sweat. Though he wasn't the love of my life, I couldn't help but marvel at his robust and well-sculpted body.

  "What mistake?" I licked my lips.

  "You gave me time to get back on my feet." He approached me. "You should never do that. When the enemy is down, you make sure they don't get back up."

  I lifted my fists in front of me, preparing myself for another assault. He flexed his arm, the one I'd broken. As the muscles tightened and ballooned out, a smidge of fear raced through me. I was crazy for boxing with him. He was a fighter and instigator for the Chicago Blackhawks hockey team. I was a data technician and part-time paranormal investigator with zero fighting experience. He outmatched me a million times over.

  "Considering you're my teacher and not the enemy, I need you on your feet," I said as we circled.

  He stopped and gazed at me as if he were calculating his next attack. I decided not to wait and find out his plan. Fist tight, I swung my right arm. He back stepped. I quickly threw my left fist. He jumped out of reach. Then I leaped forward with an upward kick, aiming for his balls.

  Jeremy was fast. He caught my foot and shoved it high. This was my fifth attempt at his groin and, like the other times, I flipped backward. Only this time, my back-flip worked out near perfect. I landed on my feet and managed to stay standing after a slight wobble.

  "Hah!" I said, proud I hadn't fallen on my ass.

  My miniscule piece of joy disappeared when his fist connected with my jaw. My head jerked sideways and I stumbled. Pain enflamed the side of my face. I hoped I didn't have any loose teeth.

  "You hesitated," he said as I regained my balance. "How many times do I have to tell you—don't hesitate."

  Anger blazed within me, aimed at him, but mostly angry with myself because he was right. I dashed toward him and thrust a fist at his face. He blocked it and I swung my other at him. He slapped my arm away, then retur
ned punches. I leaped back, saving myself from more pain. Then I retaliated. For every punch and kick I made, he stopped me and threw several shots at my head. I avoided them and we danced around more. As time ticked away, I grew tired. In one last effort to land a blow, I aimed for his head, missed, and spun around. With my back to him, I shoved my elbow toward his ribs. I missed him completely and realized in a quick instant that I couldn't see a damn thing he was doing.

  The advantage was Jeremy's. He took hold of my head and with one swift twist, he snapped the vertebrae in my neck and several down my spine. The loud pops reminded me of bubble wrap bursting—bubble-by-bubble. I lost the ability to move and crumbled to the mat like a rag doll.

  Fuck, I shouted in my head.

  "Now that, my dear"—Jeremy panted as he stepped over me—"was the stupidest move yet. You never, ever turn your back to the enemy."

  Lesson learned—the hard way.

  Jeremy straightened my body before he lifted my arms above my head. I burned hotter than lava, especially in my neck and spine. My bones were healing. Although I couldn't move or speak, I was fully aware and cursed Jeremy.

  After he finished adjusting my body, placing my back flat on the floor, he crawled over me. "Remember how I said you would hate me?" He hovered above my face and gazed into my eyes. "This might be one of those times."

  He slid his hands over my breasts and squeezed them. Fury rose fast within me. I wanted to fight him. I wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp. I tried to move my arms, but they wouldn't budge. Fuck! My bones weren't healing fast enough. He glided his hands farther down. In my head, I screamed curse words and called him every bad name I could think of. When he began removing my tank top, I could only think of tearing him to shreds, one limb at a time, then feeding his balls to him.

  "Now this is better." He tossed my shirt aside. "Maybe we should fight naked. What do you think?"

  I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but the damned words wouldn't come out.

  He pressed his hands over my bra and groped my breasts harder this time. The wrath within me raged while perspiration covered my skin. He slid his hand down my torso, teasing the demon in me. She wanted me to like his touch, but I refused. I despised him with every drop of sweat and blood in me.

  He gazed into my eyes while he wedged a finger under the waistband of my sweatpants. "Darling, you are burning up. I wonder if every inch of you is this hot and wet."

  Grinning, he stripped my pants from my legs.

  My loathing toward him intensified. His constant persistence for me to have sex with him never stopped. I doubted he would take advantage of me in my immobile condition, but he would push me to the edge. Once there, I feared the demon in me would relent. He counted on it.

  "Looking even better now." His wicked smile spelled trouble. He tossed my pants aside.

  The fire in me burned fiercely. I tried to tilt my head, say something, move an arm, a leg, a foot…nothing. My bones were fusing, but not fast enough.

  He parted my legs and kept a lusty gaze on my apex. I didn't want him to touch me there, but I couldn't stop him. The moment I could move, I was going to beat the shit out of him.

  He wedged himself between my legs, gripped my hips, then pressed his lips to my stomach. His kiss with gentle and he planted more. Then he rolled his tongue over my belly and around my inward button. Slivers of desire spawned and branched out. Though his caress felt good, I wanted him to stop. I kept willing myself to move, but nothing happened. He glided his tongue lower and slid his fingers down to my inner thighs. My arousal blossomed, wanting more touching, more kissing…satisfaction. I hated that I wanted more from him.

  "I would love to taste every bit of you," he said as he delved his fingers under the string of my cotton underwear.

  The demon wasn't playing fair. I'd known he was tricky, deceitful, and a world of trouble. He was a demon and I'd let myself think he wouldn't take advantage of me like this. Boy, was I ever wrong.

  He grazed his lips over my pubic mound, then lifted his head. "I do believe I need to teach you properly so you don't make the same mistake twice. But look on the bright side, you will enjoy this." His twisted grin made me despise him even more.

  He slid the edges of my panties down. I clenched my jaw. A rush of adrenaline flooded me. I had moved.

  My body was still on fire and ached powerfully, but I refused to waste any time. I could move and that was all that mattered. I lifted my legs swiftly and squeezed my thighs together, capturing his head. Surprised, he grunted. I rolled and flipped him over, onto his back. I sat on top of him, pinning him to the floor, and cutting off his air supply with my strong thighs. The look on his face was one of pure shock and I loved it. I gripped a handful of his hair, then slammed my fist into his face. Not once. Not twice. Repeatedly. A sense of peace and accomplishment swelled within me as I punched him. I was finally getting what I wanted.

  I learned a very important lesson while I sat on his neck and punched him senseless. He had difficulty fighting back in our uncustomary fighting position. He tried to grab my arms to stop me, but I was swinging at him too quickly. He tried to bounce me off him by lifting the lower part of his body up. That didn't work either since I was above his chest. And the more pressure I put on his neck, the more his breathing labored.

  Blood covered my hands, his face, and smeared the inside of my thighs. Joy filled me with each punch I delivered. All the anger and built up frustration from dealing with Jeremy over the last week exploded within me and I couldn't stop myself. The intense release felt as satisfying as an orgasm. When he started choking and his fight ended, I halted my aggression.

  I rose and stood next to him. He rolled onto his side, gasping for air. I thought about what he'd told me earlier—to make sure the enemy doesn't get back up. Taking him at his word, I shoved my foot into his ribs. He wheezed and flipped over on his back.

  "I think I'm learning," I said in a cynical tone as I pulled up my underwear.

  He lay on his back, struggling to breathe. He was a bloody mess, not that I felt any sympathy for him. Over the last week, he'd treated me the same until I couldn't fight anymore. For once, I was on top of the world. I had beaten him—the great fighter whose soul originated before Christ and had fought alongside Alexander the Great. Hear me roar.

  I moved closer to his head. Blood battered eyes stared up at me.

  "Looks like I win tonight." I smiled with pride.

  The front door chimed. I glanced up. Striding in was the man of my fantasies, the love of my life, the man I longed to be with night and day.

  Drake saw me and came to an abrupt stop. His cheerful expression died as he gazed at my half-naked body. Crap—this was not good.

  Chapter Two

  Drake stared at me with tense eyes, his lips pressed firmly together. All the joy I had for beating Jeremy evaporated in less time than it took me to inhale my next breath. Mind numb, I opened my mouth. Nothing but air came out. Technically, I had agreed to break up with Drake in exchange for Jeremy teaching me how to fight, but the breakup was temporary. Drake and I were still in love. We just had to pretend we weren't around Jeremy. As I stood near the demon in my underwear, I could only imagine the thoughts racing through Drake's mind. Our hidden devotion to each other was strong, but situations like this certainly put our love to the test.

  Underneath me, Jeremy laughed. "Come on in, Drake." His laugh turned into a cough. "Jessie and I are having a great time."

  Drake's stone cold glare made it difficult for me to determine if he was angry with Jeremy or with me. I assumed he intended to direct his fury at Jeremy. After all, he despised the demon. The two were always at odds. Left alone together in a room, neither one would come out alive.

  The door chimed again. Kuri strolled in wearing his usual slacks and blazer. The Asian vampire came to a stop next to Drake. An evil grin formed on Kuri's face. "It appears we missed the fun."

  I glowered at Kuri, loathing him with every blood, sweat, and tear. Had
he not snitched to the VETOV about my soul catching ability, Drake and I could be living the good life together. But no, he told the governing group of vampires, and now they found me a potential threat. The fact that such strong and immortal creatures were afraid of a half-demon seemed crazy to me, but apparently, my ability to send souls to Hell bothered them. Vampires liked to hold on to their souls, according to Drake. So, I was stuck in a deal with Jeremy, temporarily separated from Drake, and traveling to Europe in a week to defend my life to a bunch of vampires—all because of this rat-fink-snitch Kuri. I prayed daily for bad things to happen to the bloodsucker.

  "Drake," I said.

  Eyes darker than the blackest night met mine. He shook his head, turned, then headed for the exit. His tense, long strides revealed his unhappiness. He shoved the door open and it snapped at the hinges. I was surprised the glass didn't break. Kuri smirked, then left too. I was grateful not to have to look at his face any more.

  "Shit!" I stomped over the mat as I headed to the corner where my purse and towel sat. The urge to run after Drake to explain the situation took hold of me. Surely, he would understand once I told him I'd beat up Jeremy. In fact, he'd probably kiss me for it. That alone was worth chasing him. Then I reminded myself Jeremy needed to believe Drake and I were no longer a couple. Sighing, I couldn't wait until after the meeting with the VETOV so Drake and I could reunite, assuming they'd let me live. Until then, the deception, lack of sex, and Jeremy's sensual teases were killing me slowly. Tortuously.

  I grabbed the towel I'd brought, then wiped the blood from my hands. The blood smeared and left my skin tinted. I needed to properly clean up, preferred a shower, but I didn't have time for either.

  "What are you doing?" Jeremy groaned.

  "Getting ready to leave"