Lethal Blow: (Succubus Hitwoman Book 2) by Eliza Hendrix (love books to read TXT) 📕

The thing looks like a Cerberus pulled right out of ancient Greece… something I’ve encountered once before and hoped to never encounter again. Drool spills from its three mouths as it snaps at the air with its massive canine teeth.

Holy shit.

Behind me, the naked couple moans louder than before as the man thrusts in and out of the woman.

How the fuck am I supposed to decide this? The girl needs help. But she isn’t even real, right? It must be some illusion to distract me from feeding. What I need is a good meal. Maybe after that, I can save her.

It’s not like it’ll take me long to eat.

I take a step toward the couple and their smiles widen.

“I want you,” the woman says through labored breathing.

Although the man’s the one fucking her, she’s talking to me.

“I want you so bad.”

A painful throb shoots down in between my legs, and I feel like if I don’t feed now, I might implode.

“You want me?” she adds, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. “Come fucking take me.”

“Help!” comes the shrill voice again.

Goddamn it.

This is fucking bullshit.

I clench my teeth so hard my jaw pops.

Without giving myself any time to regret my decision or to think about how hungry I am, I expand my wings and launch myself toward the Cerberus.

Chapter 11

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Extracting my wrist blades, I hurl through the air and straight for the Cerberus. But before I can even attempt to cut off one of its heads, the creature’s shape begins to lose form and distort. Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or is he disappearing?

Gradually, a swirling green light encompasses his body, along with the woman’s. Before I can comprehend what the hell is happening, the two disappear as fast as a hummingbird’s wings.

Are you kidding me? I turned down feeding for what? For nothing? All of that sexual frustration needs to go somewhere, and slicing off some heads would have helped me with that.

Gritting my teeth, I land hard in a pile of leaves. Maybe the couple is still going at it. Maybe—

When I twirl around, they’re still gone.

What a fucking downer.

I’m about to shout something like, This isn’t a trial, it’s a tease, you sick motherfucker!

Thankfully, I’m distracted before the words come spilling out of my mouth. The forest instantly brightens as though illuminated by ten suns. All around me, leaves turn a vivid green, the fog lifts, and countless lavender plants spring out of the forest floor. In the overhead branches, where crows were cawing minutes ago, are songbirds chirping away as if celebrating something.

How did everything go from being so dark and gloomy to peppy and cheerful?

Gross.

Up ahead appears a cloud of purple smoke that matches the lavender plants. At first, it looks like cotton candy, but as the smoke dissipates, a small wooden cabin comes bursting up from the earth, its wood cracking and snapping as it sends twigs and leaves flying in every direction.

Although it sounds like it’s being demolished, by the time the cracking stops, the house looks like it’s been standing there for decades.

What the hell’s going on?

It doesn’t take a genius to know that the cabin’s where I’m supposed to go next.

Rolling my eyes, I march my way to the cabin. Though deep down, I know I should be behaving with more class, I can’t shake my anger over what happened. That’s like letting a drug addict lick a pill, then tucking that same pill in your pocket and laughing at them. You can’t fucking do that to someone like me.

So whoever’s hiding out in that cabin had better be damn well worth it.

I loosen my fists when I realize I have them clenched. While I might be pissed off, I can’t come across as some psychotic bitch when I enter the place. I’m here to find Devania—a woman whose sole purpose in life is to take down corruption and evil. Punching in faces won’t get me very far with her.

As I approach the cabin, the front door creaks open as if the energy of my presence alone were capable of moving inanimate objects. I wish. That’d be pretty fucking sick.

I think what it means is that whoever’s inside the house is expecting me.

Moving quietly, I push the door open. “Hello?”

Nothing.

As I enter, the smell of fresh peanut butter cookies and peppermint candy fills my nostrils.

I’m beginning to think I ended up in the same forest as Hansel and Gretel. Rumor has it the witch is still alive. No one’s been able to prove it, which has caused a lot of speculation. Until his death, however, Hansel swore up and down he watched her burn to ashes.

I’ve never been convinced. Everyone knows witches have sneaky ways around shit.

But as I inhale the warm, succulent fumes, I can’t help but feel like I’m being lured into something.

It can’t be as bad as what I just went through. Sure, I like food as much as the next girl, but I could never be seduced by it.

“Hello?” I repeat.

A floorboard creaks and I extract my wrist blades on instinct.

“H-h-hello,” comes a mousy voice.

Out from the darkness of the candlelit space comes a small woman with a tight gray bun atop her head, a rounded back, and a silver robe that drags behind her bare, veiny feet. In her right hand is an oil lantern casting a bright yellow light toward me. It rattles as she walks, and I can’t tell if it’s due to trembling legs or trembling hands. Her left hand—or at least what remains of it—supports the base of the lantern.

The woman’s old—like, super old.

I’m surprised she’s still breathing.

On her face are