Demon Ryder Read online




  DEMON RYDER

  by

  Tamara Hunter

  DEMON RYDER

  Copyright 2011 by Tamara Hunter

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the author. This book cannot be sold, shared or given away because this is an infringement of the copyright. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters, names, locations and incidents are from the writer’s imagination.

  DEDICATION

  Thank you to my wonderful husband who possesses never-ending patience.

  Thanks to my wonderful critique partners: Betty, Carol, Judy, Randy, Terry and Vonda whose help and belief in me has been invaluable

  .

  I truly appreciate you all.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter One

  Agent Camille Stevenson braced herself as the steel stairwell door closed behind her with a reverberating clang, shutting out the fluorescent-lit offices and hallways of the Galactic Agency and sealing her fate. First day on the job and her assignment was to locate an alien. She was accustomed to having a partner and going solo wasn’t what she expected, but as a law enforcement officer she was taught to be prepared. She patted the newly-issued laser gun secured in a shoulder holster beneath her navy cotton blazer, needing its reassurance.

  Recessed lighting along the concrete wall yielded enough light to observe her surroundings. In front of her, loomed a seemingly-endless flight of stairs leading to the city of demons beneath downtown Chicago’s bustling streets.

  Silence greeted her ears and the fleeting sensation of being locked in a tomb rushed over her. She stomped her feet against the floor to shake off the jitters. She’d chased down suspects, taking down and handcuffing men larger than she.

  You can do this! Taking a deep breath, she began the trek. Each footfall against a stair sounded like a gong, but she didn’t stop.

  Camille was determined to make a name for herself at Galactic. As a CPD officer, her father’s position as Deputy Chief caused whispers of nepotism and veiled disparaging comments among the boys in blue at her precinct. It wasn’t the looks, whispers or comments that drove her crazy, it was the thoughts that weren’t verbalized, yet Camille heard them loud and clear. The desire to teach her harassers a lesson, nearly led her to expose her gifts which would put her father’s career in jeopardy so she’d opted to resign.

  Five flights later, despite a drop in temperature, a trickle of sweat wormed its way from the base of her neck down her back. Without touching a hand to her head, she knew her previously sleek ponytail was now riddled with frizz. Thank goodness she opted to wear a cotton tank beneath the blazer instead of a long-sleeve shirt.

  At the base of the stairs, a retractable door blocked the entrance to the cavernous city known as Demopolis. Though the area existed for centuries ever since the destruction of the demons’ home planet, federal officials decided only a decade ago to supply the residents with a few of the amenities enjoyed by humans. In exchange, the demons declared their allegiance to the U.S. Government.

  She inserted the key card given to her by Silver, head of the Galactic Agency. She waited as the door slid open with a whoosh. Camille stepped through the doorway and heard a splash. She retrieved the flashlight attached to her belt then switched it on, angling the circle of light downwards. The thickness and color of the water reminded her of car oil. Crap. She would’ve worn boots instead of her favorite navy leather loafers had she known about this assignment beforehand. She stepped beyond the wetness, onto the dry stone floor.

  The pungent odor of mildew clung to the back of her throat like a thick film of mucous. She moved the light upward, revealing craggy concrete walls. In pockets created by the unevenness of the surface, bulbs the size of a car’s tail light, burned.

  Camille retrieved a map from her pocket. She studied the hastily-drawn diagram and confirmed her destination lay to the east.

  Since the alien wasn’t registered with the U.S. Government as required by standard tracking policies, ferreting him out was the only sanctioned manner of locating him. She didn’t know how citizens of Demopolis looked, but surely an alien from another planet would stand out among them.

  She returned the map to her pocket as she headed toward the border gate. Here, the light was more plentiful so she switched off her flashlight then hooked it on her belt.

  Camille displayed her identification card for the guard to verify. The Government offered demons areas to live beneath its cities, but it couldn’t guarantee the protection of its own citizens if demons mingled topside with humans. Few knew of the demons’ existence and those that did guarded the knowledge as if part of some international secret society. Who knew what type of mass hysteria would ensue if the truth were known. Movies and television shows about paranormal entities were one thing, but knowing your neighbor was other-worldly was an entirely different matter.

  “Stay in the safety zone and do not venture beyond Byway 3.” The young guard, sporting a blond crew cut, wore his Army uniform with the ease of a seasoned soldier.

  She frowned. “Byway?”

  He grinned. “That’s what we call the pathways between tunnel sections. Not wide as a street, but wider than a sidewalk.”

  “What’s beyond Byway 3?”

  He glanced around then leaned closer as if sharing a secret. “Some of the demons are cool, you know? Get along fine with us and vice versa. But rogue demons have their own idea of what life in Demopolis should be. And it doesn’t include music, neon signs and having fun. If you run into one of them, run the other way.”

  His warning sent a chill over her. “How will I recognize them?’

  “Rogues are gray, angry-looking SOBs. Trust me, you’ll know the difference.”

  “Gotcha.” She nodded. “No venturing into bad areas.”

  “We’ve had problems with rogues starting bouts of periodic violence too. There’s talk of an uprising planned for tonight. Seems the demons lived peacefully on their home planet of D81, but I guess living close to each other down here has cramped their style. Rumor is the rogues want to live among humans.” He shook his head. “Shit’s not gonna happen on my watch.”

  Camille gave him a brief smile. “I’ll see what I can do to make certain our blissfully-unaware society remains in the dark.”

  “Appreciate that, ma’am. Be careful.”

  Heading east, she sauntered beyond the gate into the safety zone. Colorful signs, a small number of which were lit by flashing neon lights, advertised everything from scale cleaners and buffers to restaurants.

  Turning off the flashlight, Camille came to a stop. She knew staring was impolite, but was unable to pull her gaze away from the sheer number of demons milling around. She didn’t know what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t demons carrying books and wearing contemporary clothing like their young human counterparts. Several even maneuvered scooters through the crowd.

  A group of six teens strolled towards her. Two horns sprouted from each of their heads and their skin was awash with swirls of brilliant red and black as if they’d walked beneath showers of paint. Silver had mentioned adult demons possessed four horns so the approaching assembly had not reached maturity yet. The five males wore jeans, their chests covered by what appeared to be a breastplate of scales with a black iridescent sheen. Clad in a red miniskirt and white halter top, a female ambled alongside them.

  Camille crossed to the other s
ide of the byway where several feet ahead, a rickety, wood stand advertised week-old loaves of breads, buns and other baked goods.

  Like a swarm of termites, the group crossed as well, gesturing and mumbling under their breath. She wasn’t an expert on demon behavior, but frowns probably weren’t good.

  Camille’s heart pounded against her chest, sending adrenaline rushing through her body like a shot of liquor. She eased close to a rough-hewn wall. She was the outsider so she couldn’t expect help from the broader population. Best to keep moving along and keeping her mind on completing her mission.

  Two steps from the door of a market, a hand clamped on her arm. She gasped, registering the strength in the cool grip. Camille glanced down at fingers that ended in dirty, sharp nails. Her gaze flowed upward to settle on the owner, his bulging eyes blacker than the depths of space.

  While not as tall as the other males, his shoulders and breastplate were wider. She surmised he was the leader since the remaining five demons continued to stand behind him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” The expression on his face warned her not to divulge anything less than truth.

  Camille lifted her chin higher. “Until you and your posse waylaid me, I was on my way to Mo’s.”

  The leader scratched his chin then released her arm. His ogling strayed to her breasts and she didn’t need to read his thoughts to clue her in on what interested him. “You’re coming with us.”

  The female moved to stand commandingly beside him. “No, she’s not.”

  The large male had the grace to look embarrassed. He laughed, an awful grating sound reminding her of the bleating of sheep combined with a dog’s bark. “I didn’t want her for that.”

  “Right.” The female rolled her eyes. “Stop staring at her then.”

  Camille cleared her throat. A lovers’ quarrel was a waste of her time. “I work for the Galactic Agency.”

  The two demons stopped arguing and fixed their gazes on her. The female’s eyes blazed red. Couldn’t be a good sign. “Where’s your ID?”

  Camille removed it from her front jeans pocket, careful to keep her movements slow. She handed it over.

  The female growled as she studied the card. “How do we know you work with Silver?” She raised the card to her nose, sniffing the laminated surface. “This is new. Could be a fake. You’re probably here to spy for the rogues.”

  Camille snatched the card then returned it to her pocket. “It’s new because this is my first day working at Galactic.”

  “Tie her up so she won’t know where we take her,” the leader said.

  “Wait! Look, I’m not here to start trouble. I’m after an illegal alien.” She glanced at each of them, hoping they understood the importance of her mission. “It’s in your best interest to help me catch him. If he sees too much –”

  One of the teens jerked a black hood over her face, the scratchy wool fabric reaching to her throat. She gasped. Another grabbed her arms behind her in an ironclad grip. She twisted, but his strength eclipsed hers.

  “You’re making a mistake! I’m not in league with the rogues.” Her wrists were bound together with what felt like braided rope.

  She raised her right leg and executed a roundhouse kick.

  “Oof!” From the deep tone of the voice, she’d hit a male.

  A jerk of her ponytail dragged a gasp from Camille’s lips. “You think you can just come down here and we’ll do what you say?” From the trajectory of the female’s voice, she walked a circle around Camille. “We have rights, too.”

  Camille stilled, concentrating her energy into one goal – to jettison her awareness into the leader’s mind. She gained entry as easy as a knife gliding through softened butter. She’d expected resistance, but found none.

  She glanced around his floating thoughts, hoping to find something useful. A collection of static thoughts buried beneath a covering intrigued her. Bingo. Fears usually hid under the cover of darkness. She filtered through the selection, uncovering disturbing images of groups of rogues overpowering lone demons.

  She dragged the scenes to the forefront of his mind. Within seconds, she heard a resulting shout of concern and alarm. Satisfaction roared through her as sections of his mind flashed red, the mind’s color for pain.

  Before she could inflict further damage, another presence slithered into the leader’s mind.

  Camille froze, unwilling to reveal herself. She watched, unnerved as the dire images she’d brought forth in the demon’s mind vanished like mist. The red flashes dulled then stopped. A bright, white light encompassed her and a second later, she snapped back into her own body with a jolt.

  Who, or what, had forced her from the teen’s mind?

  Heavy hands landed on her shoulders. “Stop it, Camille!”

  This voice sounded rougher and deeper than any she’d heard among the group.

  “Everyone okay?”

  Who was this newcomer? She struggled against him, but he held her fast.

  “Thanks for the save, Ryder.” The leader answered in a shaky voice. “I – I don’t know what happened.”

  Humph. Served him right for tying her up.

  “You’re out late,” the female drawled. Camille didn’t need to see to imagine the flirtatious look on the demon’s face.

  “You’re looking good,” the female continued. “Such majestic –”

  “Untie this woman.” The Ryder person again. Clearly, he yielded power down here. In a slow caress, his hands slid down her shoulders producing a shiver in their wake she had no hope of disguising. “She works for the Agency and the military will investigate if she’s harmed.”

  Intrigued, Camille leapt into the stranger’s mind, determined to glean an answer to the question of his identity. But before she gained a foothold, the bright white light enveloped her once again and forced her out with the finality of a bolted steel door.

  Who the hell was he?

  Chapter Two

  “Play along,” Ryder whispered against Camille’s ear. Who was he kidding? She would damn near do anything to be free.

  A warm hand tilted her neck to one side then lifted the end of her ponytail away from her neck. At the damp touch of a tongue licking upwards to the base of her ear, her limbs quivered. An image of herself clad in black lace panties and sprawled in invitation on a bed floated into her mind.

  She gasped. Did he project it or did she do it herself as a result of his igniting one of her erogenous zones? And how did he know that was her sweet spot? Normally, she had to direct men to it, but this Ryder person found it with perfect aim.

  “She something to you?” The leader questioned.

  “My woman.”

  His? Camille struggled against her bindings, balking at the arrogant declaration.

  Relax. The word popped into her mind as if he’d spoken it aloud. How’d he do that?

  The man brought his body flush with hers, allowing her to feel his erection pulse against her rear. Another image of herself, this time astride him while their bodies undulated in ecstasy, passed in front of her eyes. She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth at the rush of desire coursing through her. Involuntarily, she pushed back against him. This was not like her at all, but she couldn’t help her response.

  “A full-blood female isn’t good enough for you, Ryder?” The female demon asked.

  “Look like he finally found one who accepts him,” the male leader responded.

  Ryder’s body tensed against hers as his hold tightened. “I have.”

  “If she’s yours, you haven’t been with her. I don’t smell your scent on her,” the female demon stated, disbelief lacing her voice.

  “Nonetheless she is mine and you’ll leave her alone.”

  After several long seconds, the blindfold and bindings around her wrists were removed. The group’s leader leered at her. He gave a deep moan, his eyes rolling around in their sockets like thrown dice. “I can smell her sweat, the determination and anger, mixed in with a thick la
yer of desire.” He clamped meaty fingers onto her arm, his nails, long and dirty. “If Ryder ever stops handling his business…”

  “Liar!” The female glared. “I thought you weren’t interested in her.”

  Camille rubbed her wrists. “Why don’t you concentrate on keeping your girlfriend happy rather than attacking people?”

  “She’s feisty.” The teen grinned although the comment earned him a blow to the back of the head by his soon-to-be ex.

  “I know,” Ryder replied.

  Eager to see what the man looked like, Camille turned around, but he had moved from where she stood and was now in the shadows. She couldn’t make out his features, only a tall, imposing silhouette.

  The female demon blew a kiss at Ryder. “Seeing that I’m single now, you know where to find me when you get tired of the human.”

  At the female’s open invitation, jealousy ripped through Camille, surprising her with its ferocity. Why should she care who this Ryder bedded?

  The leader caught the female around the waist. “Don’t be like that. I was just –”

  “Whatever.” She twisted free of his hold. “Be careful tonight, Ryder.”

  “Yeah, Ryder. Thanks for the help,” the leader added. He gave a nod at the other demons and they marched on.

  Camille turned to thank Ryder.

  No one stood near her. Whoever he was, he had disappeared.

  With a sigh of frustration, she pulled out her map. She needed to focus on her goal and get the hell out of here. The longer the alien remained free, the more risk he posed to demons and humans.

  A cafe, a used bookstore, and a jewelry store later, she arrived at Mo’s, the local watering hole.

  She peeked through the dusty windows before opening the large wooden door. A television blared while burly male demons playing rowdy card games occupied the majority of the tables.

  Deciding an all-out stare at the wall’s decorations of heads and various body parts cast in bronze was a no-no, she closed the door behind her. The low drone of voices and laughter stopped as customers’ heads turned her way, distrust reflected on their faces. She couldn’t have been more on display had she walked in nude. Males looked at her with a mild amount of interest while females dismissed her, clearly not sensing her to be a threat.