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

Sucking in a deep breath, I turn to Rachel, who stands awkwardly as if debating whether to hug me before I leave. But before giving her the chance to get all mushy, I say, “I’ll be back,” and I step into the portal.

Chapter 18

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I breathe in, feeling intoxicated.

That smell.

I know that smell.

Where am I?

I blink once, then twice to figure out what’s going on. Did I even leave our room? Everything around me looks the same, but Mr. Mushroom, Drax, Rachel, and Riskus are nowhere to be seen.

Did she send me into another dimension?

“What the fuck?” I say aloud.

“You,” comes a familiar voice.

Snapping my wrist blades out, I swing around, prepared to go for the kill.

But the second I lay eyes on him, I stiffen.

“You,” I say right back.

I should be interrogating him, but how can I? He steps out of the motel’s bathroom wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, his muscular abs popping out above the fold. He runs a hand through his freshly washed hair, his bicep bulging, and then over his short and scruffy beard—which, might I add, looks fucking sexy on him.

I part my lips to say something, but nothing comes out.

What the hell is wrong with me?

He smirks like he knows what I’m thinking. I know that look; I give it to feebles all the time. Now I know what the problem is… and it isn’t me.

“Would you stop it?” I say.

“Stop what?” he says nonchalantly.

“Stop trying to seduce me!”

I know he’s doing it because he used his powers on me in Adam Shaw’s house. I didn’t know it at the time, but this guy’s an incubus, which means he has the same powers as me. We came close to screwing but some asshole witch who tried to turn me into a pile of ashes rudely interrupted us.

He cocks a brow. “I have to protect myself.”

I scowl at him. “Protect yourself from what?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he says. “From you.”

I let out a laugh—something that feels foreign to me. “I get it. You’re trying to seduce me to avoid me seducing you.”

His lip pulls up on one side, revealing a few bleach-white teeth. “Precisely.”

“Well,” I say, my eyes making their way to his towel. “You can stop. I promise I won’t use my powers on you.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, but I’m not backing down. Then, his attention shifts to the portal behind me.

“What’re you doing here?” he says.

“Getting my friend’s talisman back,” I say. “Now hand it over.”

He stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What’re you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid, asshole,” I say. “This portal sent me to—” but I stop myself short when something shiny catches my eye. I point at his hand and the silver ring with a red ruby around his index finger. “A Battalion ring,” I breathe. “Where’d you get that?”

With his other hand, he covers it as if trying to protect it from me while his gaze shifts to my ringless hand. “How do you know what this is?”

“I have the same thing,” I say, flicking my ringless hand in the air. “Well, my witch friend has it. That’s how I got here.”

“I’m not following,” he says. “What do you want with the talisman?”

“I’m trying to get it back,” I say.

His stare narrows. “So am I.”

I want to believe that this guy’s sincere—I mean, he has a Battalion ring. Devania made it clear that anyone who wears one is an ally.

“So, we’re on the same team,” I say, cautiously.

“It would appear so,” he says.

An awkward moment of silence fills the room until finally, the portal behind me disappears with a loud swoosh.

“There goes my ride,” I say. “Where am I?”

Rubbing his chin, he gives me a full up-and-down. It’s a look that tells me he’s trying to figure out whether I’m confused or downright crazy. I take the opportunity to stare at his smooth chest and chiseled abs.

“Let me get this straight,” he says, rubbing his scruff. “You jumped into a portal without knowing where you were going?”

“I knew where—would you put a fucking shirt on?” I snap.

Shaking his head, he lets out an amused laugh and reaches for a plain white T-shirt sitting at the edge of the motel bed. He slips it on, almost too slowly, as if wanting me to take it all in before it’s gone.

He glides his hands over his T-shirt to flatten the creases, raises his chin, and crosses his arms. “You’re in motel room 309 and I’m beginning to think you’re following me.”

“Motel room 309? Are you fucking—”

With clenched fists, I storm toward the front door.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” comes his deep, soothing voice.

With my fingers wrapped around the door handle’s shitty metal, I turn around. “Wouldn’t do what? Leave? Am I your prisoner now?”

He’s still smiling, and it creates the strangest sensation in me. I want to fuck him and punch him in the face all at once. I’m not used to men, or women, being so cocky around me. It’s usually the other way around.

“There’s a dragon out there.”

I pinch my eyebrow to hold in my anger. “It’s still out there?”

“Yes, it is.”

“That’s fine,” I say. “I don’t need the door.”

Without hesitating, I march straight toward the side of the motel room where a cheesy painting of a half-naked woman hangs crookedly. With a tight fist, I punch a hole through her face and the drywall.

A beam of wood splits and bits of drywall fall to the ground. Extracting my claws, I grab whatever I can and tear back. The painting splits in half and flies behind me, missing the incubus’s face by