1
Iinhaled the heady aroma of new paperbacks and tingles raced down my spine. I once heard that new book smell was from the adhesive binding the books, but even the fact that I basically loved huffing glue didn’t suck the romance out of my favorite scent. It had been a while since I’d been able to step inside a bookstore.
Which was why the repulsive stench of sulfur and rotten meat in my favorite place was even more offensive.
The hair on the back of my neck rose.
I ducked and felt a whoosh of air over my head. The curved claws of the blood-thirsty yeti missed me. I tucked and rolled away before springing to my feet and turning to meet the demon. I pulled out my Ka-Bar Combat Kukri Knife, a gift from Regina. The heavy-duty chopping blade was similar to a machete but curvier, and it was my new weapon of choice. Who said only boys loved their toys?
Seven feet tall and covered in shaggy white hair, the creature’s piercing ice-blue eyes stared out from a demonic face of hate-filled ridges. Calan called it an Ururu. Looked more like Krampus to me.
“What’s up shaggy?” I asked, jumping back from another swipe. “Are you looking for the self-improvement books, or maybe the beauty section?” If he was looking for beauty tips, I had stripped my look down to the basics; a ponytail and form fitting high waisted black yoga pants with matching crop top. Though I went a little extra with the bright pink lip-gloss which I swear gives me the confidence boost to add an extra inch to my high kick. War paint and all that.
Another swipe from the Ururu, and I leaned back, dodging again. I let him come at me a few more times, artfully dodging his claws. He let out a frustrated roar. My sparring sessions with Calan were paying off. This felt more like a dance than a fight.
With a quick glance around, I saw colorful covers and an abundance of man chests. I’d unconsciously led my prey to my homeland—the romance section. It felt like a lifetime ago that I was in this same bookstore, pushing my glasses up, ogling the goods. I’d continue to add to my stack of potential book boyfriends until I could barely hold my paperback skyscraper.
What a difference a few years made.
The Ururu charged, sick of our cat-and-mouse game. At the last moment, I flattened against the side and brought down my blade. Two claws fell to the ground, spraying red blood onto the new paperbacks.
The Krampus whirled around, his icy eyes now shining, and my gut clenched. Uh oh.
He opened his mouth, and a cold mist seeped out like a dry ice trick. My senses prickled. The demon was preparing to do some dark mojo. This wasn’t covered in the briefing. For all I knew, he could do anything from shoot ice needles from his mouth to releasing a poison gas.
My brain was still computing whether to fight or flee when the tip of a sword broke out through the front of the Ururu’s chest. I clapped my hands over my ears as the Ururu's cry thundered through the store. The light went out of the demon’s eyes and the mouth mist dissipated.
“Hi honey,” I said, lowering my hands.
Calan pulled his sword out of the creature’s back with a jerk, letting the evil yeti crumple to the ground. My fiancé stood there in all his handsome glory. His dark, curly hair was a sharp contrast to his cobalt blue eyes. Between his square jaw and hard, muscled body, he could have stepped off one of the nearby covers.
Except Calan came from an even less likely place, an ancient secret Order. My sweetie was a Knight of the Light, a Chevalier. The Order of Luxis raised him in a secret Temple where they trained him fight like a ninja warrior, and honed his will into magic powers to blast demonic baddies away.
“Were you toying with the Ururu?” he asked. The teasing tone of his already deep voice made my insides melt like a milk chocolate bar on a warm day.
“Maybe,” I confessed, looking up at him through my lashes.
Wiping his blade against the creature’s hairy body, a line formed between his eyebrows as he became serious. “The Ururu can emit a freeze that numbs the senses and slows down their prey. Best not to dally long with them.”
I tried to cover up my smile at his word choice,dally.
Growing up in near total isolation save for his Masters, who acted like they stepped out of medieval times, Calan possessed old-fashioned sensibilities and missed a lot of social nuances. As a modern woman, I’d taken it upon myself to bring him up to date on all the movies, latest slang, and the fine industry known as fast food cuisine. He was still iffy on that last one, preferring simple, whole foods. With all the health nuts out there, we could get him signed on for his own cookbook. I could see it now,Clean Cooking with the Chevalier: for the busy demon-fighting mom on the gowould be an instant bestseller. Especially if he was on the cover.
Before I could get too distracted with visions of Calan’s ripped bod in only an apron and alluring smile, I said, “Got it. Don’t let them breathe on me.”
My eyes traveled back to the shelves. I briefly wondered if the store owners would be willing to pay us in books. Maybe I could adopt the blood-spattered ones, so they wouldn’t think they weren’t loved.
“What is that face you are making?” Calan asked, tilting his head.
“I’m pouting.”
He had to step on the Krampus corpse to get over it to stand next to me. It made a crunching sound under his weight.Gross.
“I got blood on the pretty books,” I said, gesturing forlornly at the new releases. “For a bibliophile, that’s like a hate crime.”
A crackle over the walkie talkie interrupted us, followed by Travis’ voice. “Nighthawk to Rainbow Bright. The northwest quadrant is clear, moving toward the stairs to the second floor now. Over.”
As if on cue, the gurgling growl of an Ururu traveled through the bookstore.
