The Redeeming Read online

  The Redeeming

  Immortals, Book 3

  Jennifer Ashley

  JA / AG Publishing

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue

  Excerpt—Immortals: Forbidden Taste

  Also by Jennifer Ashley

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Los Angeles, September

  Samantha hated being demon bait.

  She sat at a high table near the bar in Merrick’s Venice Beach demon club, wearing a form-hugging, short black dress, black thigh-high stockings, and four-inch heels she’d had to practice walking in.

  It had been Samantha’s job for the last two weeks to perch on a high stool, cross her long legs, and wait for Merrick or one of his demons to offer her the illegal drug Mindglow. So far no one had pushed her to do anything more than order a second martini.

  Tonight was typical for Merrick’s. Every table was full, the clientele waiting eagerly for the demons to come in and choose their marks for the night. A few people sat alone at the bar, including a man with hunched shoulders, who stared morosely at the line of empty shot glasses in front of him.

  At eleven o’clock, a door opened in the back and Merrick’s demons strolled out. Beautiful and sensual, both male and female demons greeted the humans with promise-filled smiles. Their auras swirled like dark purple smoke as they touched their victims, deciding whose life essences they would taste that night.

  Laws in all states said a demon had to have a human’s permission to feed on his or her life essence—that elusive substance that made a person alive rather than a collection of biological parts. Like the laws that kept vampires from draining their victims dry, rules stated that demons couldn’t siphon off all life essence and leave a person dead. Demons, being demons, constantly sought ways around the permission clause. The black market for life essence was huge and profitable. Hence Mindglow, the demon’s coercion drug, and Samantha’s current assignment.

  Merrick, the club’s owner, a well-formed man in a pristine gray five-thousand-dollar suit, glided to Samantha’s table and gave her his broadest smile. “Ah, Sam, I knew you wouldn’t resist returning to Merrick’s. Is tonight the night I convince you to partake in the glory of me?”

  Samantha’s nostrils curled at the unmistakable scent of the netherworld, something ordinary humans couldn’t smell. It was the tiniest bit of sulfur and dry air, the scent of power and arrogance.

  Modern demons didn’t consider themselves evil, unlike Old Ones, the powerful demons who’d walked the earth in centuries past. Samantha had once fought an Old One—not by herself, but with a group of witches and Immortal warriors—and she could attest to the evilness of the ancient ones. The whole experience still gave her nightmares.

  The demons at Merrick’s were lesser demons who’d learned to adapt to living in the human world. If they stepped out of line, they could be arrested, carted off to jail, and tried for crimes like taking too much life essence or coercing their marks to use Mindglow.

  Samantha pasted on a vacant smile as she looked up at Merrick. “Maybe.”

  He had dark eyes, like most demons, all the better to suck in his victims with. Not victims, Merrick would insist. Clients.

  “I live in hope,” Merrick said. He reached out and traced her cheek, and Samantha did everything she could not to flinch.

  “I’m still not sure.”

  “You never have to worry with me, Sam, my dear.” Merrick’s touch became softer, trailing to her bare shoulder. “I can make it as pleasurable as you like, or if you like it to hurt . . .” He broke off as his finger moved to her cleavage.

  “No,” Samantha said quickly. “I’m not into that.”

  “No. You’re obviously a sweet, gentle soul.” Merrick’s pupils were wide, eyes black all the way across, betraying his hunger.

  Samantha’s half-demon senses picked up the pheromones he sent her way. He was trying to relax and arouse her, make her accepting of his touch. Samantha kept cool by remembering the young woman her partner Logan had found in the alley not far from here, her body drained of life, helped along with Mindglow.

  Merrick hadn’t caught on yet to the fact that Samantha was part demon. She’d learned through painful experience how to mask that part of her—then again, Merrick was possibly distracted to her true nature by his efforts to look down the top of her dress.

  “I’m nervous,” Samantha said. “I know it’s supposed to be the best experience ever, but I’m just not sure.”

  Merrick moved to stand behind her and massage the nape of her neck. “You know, my pet, I’ve let you sit at my best table for two weeks running while you’ve tried to make up your mind. Most girls would have taken the plunge by now. What must I do to convince you?”

  Offer me the Mindglow, already, damn it.

  Samantha contrived to look bewildered. “It’s not like I don’t pay.”

  “Yes, but sweetheart, there are so many clamoring to get into my club. I have to turn them away while you sit here night after night. It’s bad for business, my darling.”

  Samantha pouted and reached for her purse, which was just large enough to hold her badge and gun. “Fine, I’ll sit at the bar then.”

  “If you wish. My bartender likes you. I’ll have him give you a couple of drinks on the house.”

  Samantha let out what she hoped sounded like an inane giggle. “Are you trying to get me drunk so I’ll go upstairs with you?”

  “Of course not,” Merrick said, voice a purr. “It’s not as good when you drink too much—for either of us.”

  “What about drugs?” Samantha asked. “Is it better when you’re high?”

  “No.” Merrick’s voice was firm. “It’s the best when you’re aware and alert. Trust me, you want to feel everything.”

  “I could have sworn I heard it was better when you have a buzz on.”

  “You heard wrong,” Merrick said. Samantha let her expression fall in disappointment, containing her disgust while Merrick traced his finger along her collarbone. “But there is something that enhances the experience, makes you less afraid. It’s not a drug—more like an herbal tea.”

  Oh, frigging finally.

  “What’s that?” Samantha asked, trying to look guileless.

  “Come upstairs, and I’ll show you.”

  Not the best scenario. Upstairs, Samantha might find herself trapped before Logan could get to her. Though she was strong and had a gun, she was wise enough to know she couldn’t take on a dozen demons by herself.

  “I still don’t know . . .”

  She found her face pinched in a viselike grip, Merrick forcing her to look at him. “What are you trying to pull, Samantha?”

  Samantha’s first instinct was to break his grip and come up fighting, maybe giving him a kick in the balls along the way. But she hadn’t staked out this place this long to blow it, and she remained still. “Nothing. I just want to be absolutely sure. You say the herbal tea will make me less afraid?”

  She sensed his pheromones drifting over her, trying to relax her. Samantha resisted, and she knew
he felt that resistance.

  “All right, damn you,” Merrick growled. “But only because I like you so much.” He snapped his fingers, and one of the demon waiters came over. “One dose,” Merrick said to him.

  Samantha dropped her gaze so Merrick wouldn’t see triumph in her eyes. She’d have to sit here until the waiter actually came down with the stuff, then Logan and his backup would raid the club, and Samantha could go home and slip into more sensible shoes.

  Merrick smiled his most charming smile, and she sensed his arousal, his growing hunger. “You won’t regret it, love. Because you’re so special to me, I’ll make it extra sweet—”

  He broke off when a woman at a table near the door screamed.

  Merrick jerked his head around as two male demons near the club’s entrance suddenly burst out of their human forms. Their clothes ripped as muscles bulged and their bodies elongated into leathery skinned monstrosities. Everyone started screaming, scrambling to get away from them.

  “What the hell?” Merrick started for the demons, signaling to his bouncers, who were already moving.

  Whoever these demons were, Samantha knew Merrick hadn’t authorized them. Demons appearing in demon form were bad for business. They were supposed to seduce humans by being beautiful and sensual, promising an experience better than sex.

  “Out!” Merrick charged them, his arm extended as he pointed at the door. “I’m not having this in my—”

  Merrick’s words choked off as one of the demons grabbed him by the throat and tossed him aside. As the bouncers ran at the two rogue demons, they knocked over tables and grabbed for people with powerful swiftness.

  Damn it. I was so close. But just as Samantha reached for her purse, ready to go for her gun, the hunched-over deadbeat at the bar came to life.

  A deadbeat no more, he unfolded himself into seven feet of warrior in a brown leather duster, a bronze sword in each hand. His granite-hard face bore a pentacle tattoo high on his cheekbone, and his hair was flame red. He glanced at Samantha with eyes like patches of blue sky, and her mouth went dry.

  Tain.

  Merrick scrambled up, grabbed Samantha as she stood, stunned, and pushed her toward the back of the club. “Get upstairs and stay there.”

  Samantha tottered on her too-high heels, barely hearing him. That couldn’t be Tain in this club. Tain the warrior who’d taken her breath away a year and a half ago, when they’d battled the deadly Old One—a demon so ancient no one knew its name. Tain had walked away after his long recovery from that battle without even telling Samantha good-bye.

  Tain shouldn’t be in Los Angeles, and certainly not in a low-level club like Merrick’s in Venice. He was off wandering the world, or else in that magical realm they called Ravenscroft. Wasn’t he?

  “Go on,” Merrick snapped at Samantha. “Get upstairs and stay safe. I’d hate to see your cute little ass in tiny pieces.”

  The club’s employees herded their clients the same direction, while the rogue demons proceeded to wreak havoc.

  This had gone far enough. Samantha broke herself out of her shock, yanked open her purse, and closed her hand around her small .22. Not a lot of firepower, but she was out of options.

  Merrick stared at the gun in amazement when she drew it out. “What the hell are you doing with that?”

  “It’s your lucky night, Merrick,” Samantha said.

  Merrick gaped a second longer, and then rage mottled his face. “You double-crossing little bitch, you’re a cop. Damn it, I liked you.”

  As the words left his mouth, Samantha’s partner, Logan, barreled in through the front door, followed by his backup. Logan tossed his weapon to a uniformed cop and morphed into wolf form, snarling as the demons leapt at him.

  Tain lifted his swords and crossed them above his head. Lightning streaked up the blades, dazzling the dark club in pure, white light. The demons turned from Logan as the lightning streaked from the swords straight at them, aware too late of this new danger.

  The lightning caught the demons and slammed them upward, crashing them into the club’s black ceiling. Lights burst and showered the people huddled below with fine glass. Fire crackled through the demons, filling the club with the smell of roasting meat.

  Then the lightning vanished, and the two demons fell straight to the floor, stone dead.

  The club went silent. Logan stood a foot from where the dead demons had fallen, his lupine nose wrinkling in distaste, his clothes scattered where he’d ripped out of them. The rest of Merrick’s clientele huddled in clumps or emerged, dazed, from under the tables or behind the bar.

  Tain did nothing. His gaze was remote, blank, as though he couldn’t see the club, the huge werewolf standing in the middle of the floor, or the demons he’d just killed.

  Merrick swung on Samantha, his eyes blazing red with fury, and tried to knock the pistol out of her hand. She dodged him, keeping hold of the gun, and Merrick punched her full in the face.

  Samantha’s head snapped back. She righted herself, blood coming from her nose, kept her weapon trained on Merrick, and fired.

  The shot sent Merrick backward across a table, but demons were hard to kill. Merrick rolled to his feet, blood all over his suit, and leapt at Samantha.

  Samantha leveled her gun at him once more, but before she could fire, but Merrick was pushed away from Samantha by two swords crossed against his throat.

  Merrick snarled and shifted into demon form, completing the ruin of his suit. He lunged with the strength of a volcano, but Tain, almost negligently, jammed the blades into Merrick’s neck. Merrick gurgled, clawed at the swords, and slid to the floor in a pool of blood.

  Samantha’s nose still bled, and a deep cut in her cheek stung, but she barely noticed. Tain stepped back in silence, lowering swords that were stained black with demon blood.

  Merrick had returned to his human form where he lay at Tain’s feet, his beautiful suit in shreds. Blood streamed from the gash on his neck, but he was still alive. Demons were damned hard to kill.

  Samantha limped to Merrick, trying not to slip in his blood. She pulled out her handcuffs with shaking fingers and snapped them around Merrick’s wrists. “Merrick, I’m arresting you for possession of Mindglow. You have the right to remain silent . . .”

  Anger flared in Merrick’s eyes. He muttered, “Bitch,” then fell back, his expression resigned.

  Samantha felt warmth at her back and turned to look up at the man she hadn’t seen in a more than year. One year, four months, and one week

  She’s fought next to him in the battle with the Old One, a vicious ass-kicker of a demon who’d wanted to watch all humankind suffer for his entertainment. Tain had at first been the demon’s follower—maddened, powerful, tortured. Samantha had helped set Tain free and restore his sanity, but she wondered if he would ever be healed.

  “Tain,” she whispered.

  He placed his fingers on her face. She felt a sharp pain, then a pull that was almost sensual. Warmth pooled in her belly, and her nipples tightened against her skin-tight dress.

  Samantha recognized the feeling—she’d had it after the battle when Tain had healed her broken arm. He’d done it dispassionately, while she’d been bathed in a glow of his power that was nearly orgasmic.

  He lifted his hand away, and Samantha touched her cheek, finding it whole and uncut, the blood dry. Tain said nothing, only flicked his blue gaze over her skin as though making sure her wounds were closed.

  “Do you remember me?” Samantha asked him.

  Tain’s unruly red hair reached his collar, strands brushing his impossibly handsome face. She’d met his four brothers, all of them breathtaking, but Tain had seemed to her the most handsome, with his sculpted face and lake-blue eyes.

  He also had a presence that could knock her off her feet. Samantha’s knees wanted to bend, not so she could worship him, but so she could press her face to the fly of his jeans and feel what lay beneath . . .

  Tain pinched her chin between his fingers. Merri
ck had done the same, but while Merrick’s presumption had angered her, Tain stunned her to silence.

  Tain leaned down and growled into her ear, his voice holding the faint Welsh lilt she remembered, “Stay away from me.”

  Then he released her, turned on his heel, and strode out of the club.

  Chapter Two

  “Exactly what the eff happened in there?” Logan asked Samantha hours later.

  They sat in Lieutenant McKay’s office at the paranormal division headquarters downtown, Logan lounging in his chair, long jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him. He had sand-colored hair, a tall, lean body, a hard face, and gold-brown eyes that became even more golden when he shifted to his wolf.

  Samantha shrugged at Logan’s question. “Merrick’s rivals decided to stage a hit, tonight of all nights.”

  Demon gangs regularly fought amongst themselves and expected the police to keep out of it. Vampires did the same, although these days a vamp called Septimus kept most things under control in this part of the country.

  “No, I meant the other guy,” Logan said. He twined his hands behind his head. “I saw the rogue demons slide into the place, which was why we came running.”

  “Bad timing,” Lieutenant McKay said. She was one-quarter Sidhe but hadn’t inherited their height or much of their powerful magic. She had a small, wiry body, black skin, and close-cropped, tightly curled hair that she liked to dye orange-red. “At least you had presence of mind not to let Merrick get away in the fuss, Sam. We have him on possession of Mindglow at least.”

  “But not dealing, unfortunately.” Samantha sighed. “He can claim his rivals planted anything we find in the club.”