DH 05 Kiss Of The Night Read Online Free

toward the door.
    His eyes widened in panic.
    Cassandra turned to see what held him transfixed and then she, too, couldn’t tear her gaze away.
    The wind and snow swirled into the entranceway around a man who stood at least six feet six.
    Unlike most people who walked around in ten-degree weather, the newcomer wore only a long, thin black leather coat that rippled with the wind. He had on a solid black sweater, biker boots, and a pair of tight black leather pants that hugged a lean, hard body that beckoned with wild, sexual promise.
    He had the confident, deadly swagger of a man who knew he had no equal. Of a man who dared the world to try and take him on.
    It was the gait of a predator.
    And it made her blood run cold.
    Had his hair been blond, she would have presumed him another Daimon. But this man was something else entirely.
    His shoulder-length jet-black hair was blown back from a perfectly sculpted face that caused her heart to pound. His black eyes were cold. Steely. His face was set and impassive.
    Neither pretty, nor feminine, the man was such a Powdered Donut, he wouldn’t even have to share it in her bed!
    Drawn like a homing beacon, and oblivious to the crowd in the bar, the newcomer swept his dark, deadly gaze from one Daimon to the next, until it settled on the one by her side.
    A slow, evil smile spread over his handsome face, displaying the tiniest hint of fangs.
    He headed straight for them.
    The Daimon cursed, then pul ed her in front of him.
    Cassandra fought his hold, until he took a gun out of his pocket and held it to her temple.
    Screams and shouts erupted in the bar as people ran for cover.
    The other Daimons moved to stand by his side into what appeared to be a battle formation.
    The newcomer gave a low, sinister laugh as he sized them up. The light in his jet eyes told her how much he looked forward to the fight.
    His gaze actual y goaded them.
    “Bad form to take a hostage,” he said in a deep, smoothly accented voice that rumbled like thunder.
    “Especial y when you know I’m going to kil you anyway.”
    In that instant, Cassandra knew who and what the newcomer was.
    He was a Dark-Hunter—an immortal warrior who spent eternity hunting down and executing the Daimons who fed off human souls. They were the defenders of mankind and the personification of Satan for her people.
    She’d heard of them al her life, but much like the bogeyman, she’d attributed them to urban legends.
    But the man before her wasn’t a figment of her imagination. He was real, and he looked every bit as deadly as the stories she’d heard.
    “Out of my way, Dark-Hunter,” the Daimon holding her said, “or I’l kil her.” Appearing amused by the threat, the Dark-Hunter shook his head like a parent scolding an angry child.
    “You know, you should have stayed in your bolt-hole one more day. Tonight’s Buffy night, and it’s a whole new episode, too.”
    The Dark-Hunter paused to sigh irritably. “Have you any idea how angry it makes me that I have to come out here in the freezing cold to slay you when I could be at home al toasty warm, watching Sarah Michel e Gel ar kick ass in a halter top?”
    The Daimon’s arms shook as he tightened his grip on Cassandra. “Get him!” The Daimons attacked at once. The Dark-Hunter caught the first one by the throat. In one fluid motion, he picked the Daimon up and slammed him against the wal where he held him in a tight fist.

    The Daimon whimpered.
    “What are you, a baby?” the Dark-Hunter asked. “Jeez, if you’re going to kil humans, the least you could do is learn to die with some dignity.”
    A second Daimon dove for his back. As the Dark-Hunter twisted his lower body, a long, evil-looking knife shot out of the toe of his boot. He buried the blade in the center of the Daimon’s chest.
    Instantly, the Daimon exploded into powder.
    The Daimon in the Dark-Hunter’s grip flashed his long canine teeth as he tried to bite and kick him. The Dark-Hunter tossed him into