I’ve had several people email me about Gab and Ari and if they would have their own story. Sure enough, I’m working on it now. Here is the first chapter. Keep in mind, it hasn’t been edited 
Chapter One
The street lamp cast a warm glow around the ebony haired male who paused in mid-step and she pressed herself against the building, holding her breath. With dark hair cascading across her face, it shielded her pale skin, hiding her from his narrowing gaze as he nonchalantly glanced around while lighting a cigarette. Then with a slight shake of his head, he pulled the collar of his dark overcoat tightly around his neck. While an innocent gesture to ward off the chill that had descended upon the city just three weeks ago, she knew it was a lie.
Continuing his brisk walk down the avenue, she released a ragged breath and resumed her advance, following her prey. Slipping through the shadows, she had to be extremely cautious; this one was dangerous, more so than any of the others. And there had been many others.
He veered to the left unexpectedly, ascending a set of steps. As he reached the main entrance of a rather elegant townhouse, the door before him opened, a figure appearing. The second male, moving back to allow her prey entrance, was suddenly bathed in the soft light of the home’s interior and catching a glimpse of him, her stomach lurched. Inhaling deeply then forcing the breath out slowly, she commanded her racing heart to slow. It was a trick, nothing more. While there might be some resemblance, it could not be him. Her brother was dead.
+ + + + +
Concealed in the shadows for what seemed like hours, the night dwindled slowly away and so did the lights from inside until the townhouse was immersed in darkness. Thirty minutes after the last light had been extinguished, she cautiously rounded the side of the building, approaching it from behind. There she stood examining the available entrances, determining her best course of action.
Finding the kitchen window slightly ajar, she gently slid it open, amazed at their complacency. When she’d first begun hunting, it had been idiotic things like this that had had her suspecting a trap at every turn. Now she knew it was just the inhabitants’ belief in their own omnipotence. They always made her job so much easier and she was left with a sense of disappointment. After all this time, she had expected more of a challenge.
Careful not to make a sound, she crept through the house, climbing up the central staircase, heading toward the bedrooms above. Encountering a female, asleep behind the first door, she was dispatched quickly enough, using her sword to remove of the head. She had learned early on that a stake through the heart just did not work. If you did not separate the head from the body, sometimes they were foolish enough to get back up.
Leaving that first bedroom, she was filled with the exhilaration of the hunt, the culmination of a year’s work and rounding the corner, her sense of superiority over these beings would come to be her downfall.
Suddenly face to face with her prey, the oldest remaining vampire, she raised her arm, sword in hand, knowing she would have only one chance. Preferring his death to hers, she took aim. A roar of anger caught her unaware and she knew her one chance at surprising him gone. Fleeing was now her safest option, she couldn’t fight him and win, but she found her sword arm clutched in a vicious grip, the pressure on her wrist so painful, the sword fell uselessly to the burgundy carpet. Unable to stop the much stronger male, she was swung in an arc, only coming to a rest when she hit the wall. The impact left her disoriented, gasping for air.
“Alex, no!” a voice demanded as she felt herself being lifted from the floor. Her fingers tearing at the hand around her throat, nails frantically embedding in flesh, she knew she would die and realized her mistake. She had underestimated this new Vampire, only viewing her prey as the real threat.
Her eyes latched onto his face, needing to know the beast who would take her life, and realized this last year, she had been living a lie. All this time she had despised the vampires for an atrocity they had never committed. When her neck snapped, her last thought was one of regret.
Gabriel.
Ariana Baïonnette jolted upright, the name a cry ripped from her lips. One would think after the number of years she’d woken from the same nightmare, it would no longer faze her, but still she lay there, dripping in terror, her hand clutching the moonstone necklace around her neck.
Vampires. That was what was always so weird about it. Vampires weren’t real, just myth, so why wake drenched in sweat and shaking like a leaf? There were worse things that went bump in the night. Ari would know. That’s what she did, what she was…a hunter.
Rumored to have been handpicked by the Archangel Michael, it was said hunters had been graced with exceptional speed, agility, and an unusually extended life. It was a tale passed down through seven hundred years of Baïonnette descendants. Unfortunately not one of them had lived past the grand age of forty to test that theory…and the danger lurking eagerly in every shadow, ready to also end her life prematurely…demons.
Yes, demons. The varieties were endless, each a hideous example of just how off things were in the evolutionary pool. Myth said Lucifer, before his grand fall from Heaven, had somehow earned the love of a mortal woman, and once his place among the Archangels had been usurped by Michael, in some twisted form of vengeance, Lilth had born him 1000 children. But they were unlike any other children of this Earth. They were repulsive creatures bent on destruction. And their primary target, the humans so beloved by Michael and his angelic brigade.
Since no one was still alive to confirm any of this, Ari had long ago decided, when she’d still been impressionable and small enough to sit upon her Daddy’s knee, that it was a silly legend. Who the hell had 1000 children? And as far as she was concerned, neither Lucifer nor Michael had ever really existed.
But the demons, they were another story. Demons, she knew lived and breathed, and hunters were born with an innate ability to sense their presence, even from miles away. Her daddy had called it destiny. Ari called it a curse…to live and die by the sword. Both of her parents had…her brother, too, and she acknowledged she would probably meet her end in a similar fashion. But she knew of no other way to live.
Sighing, Ari rolled over and reached for the lamp. There was no point trying to go back to sleep. By now she knew, after the nightmare she wouldn’t. As light enveloped the dingy motel room, she couldn’t wait to find the damn demon and destroy it. Once she could view Oklahoma City from her rear-view mirror, sleep in her own bed for a change, the ball in the pit of her stomach would ease. It had to.
Damn, she really needed a break.
Not one to agonize over her appearance—hell the demons couldn’t care what she looked like—Ari spent minimal minutes getting ready, black jeans, a black tank, and her decked out Doc Martens, the standard demon hunting attire. Most of her time was spent securing her hair. Swift fingers twisted raven locks into a tight braid, her drill-sergeant Daddy’s voice ringing in her ears. Her one vanity, her waist length hair, could be used as a weapon against her, a way of gaining control over her. Her life was precarious enough without giving them an advantage.
Applying little make-up, just mascara and some lip gloss, the only other detail she wasted precious time on was her weapons. First she inspected each, looking closely for any damage she might have missed when she’d cleaned them before bed. After that ritual was complete, she strapped what she could conceal on her body into place before storing the rest in a black leather backpack.
Getting behind the wheel of her Daddy’s 1971 blue Dodge Demon, which had unfortunately seen better days because saving the world didn’t pay shit, she jumped onto 235, allowing the pull of the demon to lead her to destinations unknown. It wasn’t until she arrived at the corner of NW 31st and Classen that Ari had some idea of what she was dealing with. It was a sex demon, that much she gathered just walking slowly to the doors of the Church which now housed Club Sanctuary. What species she wouldn’t be able to discern until she had it in her sights. Then she’d know how to lure it from all the unsuspecting humans and kill it.
There were three different types of sex demons; Incubus/Succubus, Lilu, and Imps. The first two appeared human enough, allowing them to feed unheeded off of their victims. The Incubus and Succubus’ main staple were the energies produced during sex. Their proclivities could kill, given enough time with one victim, but luckily for most, they were easily bored eating the same thing night after night and didn’t hang around for long.
With rows of jagged, decaying teeth and a strong craving for human blood, Lilu demons could be some real nasty bastards. Producing the same pheromones the Incubus/Succubus used to lure their victims, their idea of feeding was ripping open their victim’s carotid artery and feasting on their blood. Sadistic by nature, they liked to play with their victims, sometimes drawing the process out for hours before the blood loss became too much for the human. While all jacked up on their victim’s blood, bloated like well-fed ticks and consumed in a drunken stupor, they were at their most vulnerable. Severe their heads and they turned to dust. But being the trickiest of the sex demons, they tended to hightail it back to hell before their victims’ bodies were even cold, making them damn difficult to catch and kill.
Imps were blue-hued females, Elfish in appearance. Unlike the Incubus/Succubus and Lilu demons, who worked alone, Imps traveled in groups and they packed a mean fire-bolt that rarely killed, but hurt like hell. The opposite of the other two sex Demons, Imps were used by Archdemons, rumored to have once been angels thrown from Heaven, to boost their energy while on Earth. Imps usually meant something really bad was getting ready to go down and even hunters got the hell out of Dodge.
Occupying a table in the back of the club, Ari took the seat against the wall, the action completely unconscious. Her Daddy had trained her well, though it hadn’t saved him and it probably wouldn’t her, either. Kids milled about, their black clothes and heavily applied make-up designating them the freakish of society. Not a big surprise. She figured it made those demons that looked human enough feel safe, the ability to blend were the unusual was the norm.
A group of boys—well men actually though just looking at them made Ari feel terribly old and jaded—were eyeing her appreciatively. One even flashed what she figured was meant to be a seductive smile, revealing a pair of sharp pointed canines. Rolling her eyes, she turned from the group with a snort and drew the glass of club soda to her lips. That was when she spotted him, an Incubus, and Ari felt the tension drain from her limbs.
Her quarry was flirting heavily with a girl directly across the club, quite at ease with his surroundings. But then why wouldn’t he be? Hunters like Ari were a dying breed. Literally. And there weren’t enough of them to really put a dent in the demon population, a dozen, maybe two, covering the US. A loner by sheer preservation—she’d seen far too many in her life die to risk getting involved—she’d only come across others like her by accident. There were the twins in Seattle and the crazy dude in New York, though most, like the spooky Cajun chic in New Orleans, seemed to settle in the southern states, because that was where the demons gravitated. The bastards liked it hot.
Imagine.
Rising from her chair, Ari slowly made her way across the dance floor, weaving between thrashing spastic bodies, the demon fixed firmly in her sights. By the time she was within a couple feet of him, odd golden eyes had already turned in her direction. She let her gaze fall to her feet before peering up at him through thick black lashes as a tiny smile played across her lips. Then with a move more practiced than Ari would care to contemplate, she tripped, her body coming into contact with the Incubus with such force, he had to wrap his arms about her to keep them both from tipping backward.
Immediately struggling against the contact, Ari pushed at his chest, her skin protesting and her stomach rolling. She’d only wanted the bastard’s attention, not to end up plastered against him.
“Shh,” he whispered in her ear, loosening his hold but not releasing her entirely and Ari bit her lip to keep from lunging away from the Incubus. Already he had begun slowly releasing the toxin from his pores that when coming in contact with her own flesh was supposed to enthrall her, making it impossible for her to deny his advances.
Like Rohypnol on Steroids.
“Come on, babe. Let’s you and me get out of here.”
Ari wanted to gag at what was supposed to be a sexy growl from the demon but figured the action would make him a tad bit suspicious. She was supposed to be under his thrall, after all, so mimicking the insipid looks she seen on the faces of many a woman who thought herself foolishly in love with some man, Ari nodded, entwining her fingers with the Incubus’ while trying to stare adoringly up at him.
Letting the demon lead her out of the club, Ari pretended to follow him blindly into the darkened night. But she was prepared, her Bowie knife already clutched tightly in her fist before he ever turned to face her. The Incubus never knew what hit him. The knife embedded deep within the demon’s chest cavity, obliterating the heart, turning him to a fine black powder that swirled around her in the breeze. That was what happened to beings without souls. They turned to dust.
Her goal accomplished, Ari retraced her steps to the club. Before heading out, she wanted to take another quick scan around even though the place now felt clean. She had a long drive ahead of her back to St. Louis and she was anxious to start the journey. It had been weeks since she’d last been at the old farmhouse she’d inherited from her Momma’s mother.
God, nothing had better delay her this time.
+ + + + +
Gabriel, riding high on waves of anger and confusion, watched the humans milling around him like rats. The flashing lights had them squinting and blinking but he could see every vividly disgusting detail. And he couldn’t figure out why he was here.
He felt archaic, useless. Over the centuries, the masses had lost faith; belief in anything non-human got a trip to a psych facility. The world of Abraham and Jacob no longer existed and Gabriel’s usefulness had ceased to be. He was the Messenger…with no message because no one gave a damn any more. So why the hell was he constantly being drawn to this miserable place? And why now after centuries?
Stuffing a hand into the pockets of his worn denim jeans, he turned back to the bar and his forgotten bottle of Bud Light. At least something had changed for the better. The food and drink on this desolate plane no longer tasted like piss. Bringing the bottle to his mouth, he’d just wrapped his lips around the head when from the corner of his eye a tall blond figure came to rest beside him and Gabriel almost groaned aloud. Just what he needed, Raphael here inspecting his every move.
“You can tell Michael to go to hell,” he growled around the bottle, not bothering to grace his companion with the glare shooting from his gaze. He didn’t want any of them here, butting into his business, not when he couldn’t have explained his actions even if he’d wanted to.
Raphael flashed him a lopsided grin while signaling the bartender. “Since when have I ever done anything willingly for that asshole? I’ll have the same as my friend here.” With his order placed, he turned from the bar, leaning gracefully back as he surveyed the humans. “I’m just here for a good time.”
Gabriel snorted, taking a quick pull of his beer before returning the bottle to the bar top. “Well, keep it in your pants. You remember what happened last time, don’t you?” But even as the words left his mouth, Gabriel knew they’d have no effect on Raphael. And Raphael’s responding grin only confirmed it.
“Please. What harm could one little witch really do?”
“Funny how you were singing a different tune when you thought your dick was going to shrivel up and fall off.” Glancing at the blond beside him, Gabriel couldn’t prevent the twitch of his lips. So few things added any amusement to his existence these days.
A frown marred Raphael’s face for a split second before he shrugged. “Maybe Michael was right and I should let you wallow in your world of self-pity.”
Gabriel nailed the son of a bitch with his frigid gaze. “Why don’t you do us both a favor and take the bastard’s suggestion to heart? No one asked you to come here.”
“Some friend I would be if I didn’t,” Raphael replied quietly. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
“Mind your own fucking business.”
Gabriel whirled away from his companion, spotting the tall raven-haired beauty striding across the dimly lit bar and the planet shifted under his feet. Now he knew why for the last thirty or so years, he’d been drawn to Denver, then Albuquerque, El Paso, Dallas, and finally Oklahoma City.
He started after her, drawn like a bee to honey but Raphael’s hand on his arm prevented his movement. Any other time he would have knocked the other male on his ass. Instead, his only thought was to reach her before she disappeared out the door and once again, out of his life. Yanking his arm free, he took off after her, stepping outside the club just in time to see her traveling across the parking lot.
A presence pulled at Ari and as she turned, a jolt of recognition went through her. Not a yard from her stood a man, his large muscular frame capped with curly blond hair that gleamed in the moonlight. Not small by any means, topping five-eight herself, his overall mass made her feel tiny, fragile. Damn, he had to be over six and a half feet tall. And his face, the beauty captured in his features did nothing to diminish the sheer maleness of him.
Ice blue eyes watched her like a bug under a microscope and senses screaming, Ari readied her stance, preparing for an attack. For the first in a very long time, she felt real fear, knowing she had to be looking into the eyes of an Archdemon. He was far too stunning to be anything else.
“Ariadne?”
His hesitant whisper, one so filled with longing, had Ari leaning toward his outstretched hand then he was there, drawing her into his arms. Thoughts of death fled, his body against hers wiping away all traces of fear. His embrace felt right, like she belonged there…perfect.
“Ariadne,” he mumbled against her lips, his fingers tangling through the hair at the base of her head, angling her head for the onslaught of his mouth but she twisted her face away at the last second.
“Ariana,” she breathed heavily alongside his cheek. Every cell in her body was flaring to life at his touch, her nipples pebbling against his chest, her sex throbbing, pulsing with sudden desire, and he thought she was someone else.
“Ariadne…Ariana. It matters not what your name is in this life, baby. You’re still mine.”
His words made little sense to her mind but seemed to appease the rest of her. Like a bitch in heat, she found herself rubbing against him, his hands sliding down her back, cupping her ass, encouraging her by pulling her closer. Then his mouth swooped in for the kill, taking control of her lips in a demanding assault, leaving her no choice but to comply.
Sinking deeper into his embrace, his tongue, rubbing seductively against her own, became her lifeline, her nourishment. He filled her to the brim, making her wonder if this was what a Succubus felt, such overwhelming rapture. No wonder they kept returning for more.
“Gabe,” a voice called from the darkness behind them, like a bucket of cold water streaming over her.
Ari lurched out of the demon’s embrace, stumbling back as his friend came into view. Long white blond hair swirled around massively wide shoulders. Wherever these two came from, they grew them big because he was several inches taller than the one called Gabe and packed an extra twenty pounds of corded muscle. And amid all that masculinity, was a face so beautiful it hurt to look upon. Maybe it was true and Archdemons had been angels.
His eyes widened when his gaze fell onto her. “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered, his eyes lifting to Gabe. “How can it be?”
Ari didn’t wait around to hear Gabe’s reply. She jumped into her car, thanking God the rattle trap actually started, and prayed these Demons wouldn’t be able to track her. Rubber burning, she kept her gaze locked on the figure of Gabe in her rear-view mirror as he watched her peel away.
Shit, she’d just kissed a demon…hell, allowed him to practically shove his tongue down her throat. What in all that is holy was she thinking? Jesus, she must have a death wish.
Gabriel kept his gaze glued on the beat up old Dodge as it squealed from the parking lot. The Missouri plates surprised him. He hadn’t felt drawn to that state in better than a year. What was she doing so far from home? Not that it mattered. Now that he knew what had been drawing him to Earth for so long, there was nothing to stop him from finding her again. And he knew the taste of her soul. There was no where Ariadne…no Ariana could hide from him.
“Did you know?” Raphael demanded as Gabriel turned from the vehicle throwing up dust in its wake. “Jesus, Gabe. Is that what this has been about? Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time? She’s human.”
Unwilling to bear the censure he heard in his friend’s voice, his sword appeared in his hand, the blazing tip aimed at Raphael’s neck. “This isn’t your affair. She is not your business.”
To Raphael’s credit, he didn’t appear overly concerned that he had a thirty-three inch blade of hissing flame pressed against his throat. “It is if you do not survive her death this time.”
“There are ways to prevent her death,” Gabriel hissed through clenched teeth. “But as long as Michael does not set her in his sights, she will be in no danger. Will she?” He did nothing to veil the threat in his question. This time, he would not lose Ariadne as he had in the past. This time things would be different.
+ + + + +
He’d snuck into her room; she knew it almost the instant he crossed the threshold. Supposedly excellent with a sword, Ari prayed the rumors were true because if her Papa caught him in the bedroom of his only daughter, blood would be spilled. She could only hope it wasn’t his.
It was her own fault. She’d flirted shamelessly when her brother, Alex, hadn’t been standing over her shoulder. Luckily, his companion, the gorgeous Greek Contessa had lured Alex away, leaving him in her tangled web. That had made her smile when he’d said it, like at seventeen, naïve and untried, she could assume the role of seductress and it drew a smile to her lips now.
“You are awake,” he whispered, his hot breath in her ear drawing a shiver down her spine. “Do not hide from me now, bébé.”
Gently rolling her onto her back, he loamed over her and she lifted her hand, cupping his cheek in her palm. As his lids slid closed, leaning into her touch with a look of complete rapture on his face, Ari drew in a sharp breath.
“I do not understand why you are here, Gabriel. You have your pick…you could be with anyone else.”
An indulgent smile graced his lips, his gaze latching onto her face. “Why would I want to be anywhere else? With anyone else?”
“The Contessa has certainly not hidden the fact you have shared her bed. Nor has the Baroness. Why now come to the bed of a virgin? It is said you shy away from the innocent.” Unable to believe she’d actually spoken her thoughts aloud, she turned her face away in mortification. Could she sound anymore pathetic?
Fingers grasped her chin, forcing her gaze to meet the amusement in his. “The Contessa is doing everything in her power to make your brother jealous. And I believe the Baroness’ bed is a might full, what with the Baron in it.”
An unladylike snort escaped her lips. “The Baron has not resided in the same house as the Baroness for these last five years. He has more important things in Paris, namely his mistress.”
“For one so innocent, you seem to know an awful lot about the bed sport of your parents’ friends.”
Cocking his head to the side, he seemed truly perplexed, setting off a streak of anger to race through her system. “If you are insinuating something improper, you know where the door is.”
Chuckling softly, Gabriel entangled his fingers in the long strands of her hair, supporting her head as he lifted her lips to his own. “It matters not, ma moitié, in this life or the next. You are mine. Now and forever. Remember that, Ariadne, because now that I’ve found you, I will never let you go.”
The blaring of a horn jerked Ari awake. Bright lights obscured her vision and with a startled curse, she gave the steering wheel a hard yank, the Dodge swerving to the right, out of the way of the oncoming truck. Slamming on the brakes, the back fishtailed before skidding to a stop on the shoulder.
Sweet Jesus. What the hell had just happened?
Resting her head on the steering wheel, she tried in vain to catch her breath but the panic continued to well up inside her. She had taken the back roads to Tulsa, trying to stay off the main highway just in case those damn demons thought to follow her. She couldn’t have fallen asleep, it just wasn’t even possible. And even if she had, why the hell would she dreaming about a demon?
Gabe, short for Gabriel. And he’d called the “dream her” Ariadne, the same name he’d used outside Club Sanctuary. What if he had done something to her, something when he’d kissed her…infected her somehow? She just didn’t know enough about Archdemons to even know if it was possible. And there was no one she could ask.
Except Gabriel. She was so kicking his ass the next time she saw him.
Ari banged her forehead against leather wrapped steel. What the hell was she thinking, the next time? If the son of a bitch was dumb enough to cross her path again, she’d deal with him the same way she had the Incubus. He’d be one dead demon.
Carefully pulling back onto the road, Ari tried to ignore the burning questions swimming around her head. If she panicked over every demon encounter and the injuries that came from them, she’d have long since become a basket case. Now was not the time to allow fear to override sound judgment. She snorted. Okay, not so sound judgment but it wasn’t the time to quibble. Her best bet was to just get her ass home in one piece. She could worry about the rest afterward.
Collapsing into her bed five hours later, Ari fell asleep secure at least in the knowledge the sun had risen and the demons had slithered back into their Hellhole. Her part of the world was safe until nightfall; saving the rest had to be someone else’s job.
Too bad her demon Radar didn’t have an off-switch. She could really use a vacation.
