DH 05 Kiss Of The Night Read Online Free Page A

the arms of the third Daimon.
    They stumbled back and landed in a heap on the floor.
    The Dark-Hunter shook his head at the two Daimons as they stumbled over each other, trying to regain their feet.
    More attacked and he cut through them with an ease that was as scary as it was morbidly beautiful.
    “Come on, where did you learn to fight?” he asked as he kil ed two more. “Miss Manners’ School for Girls?” He sneered contemptuously at the Daimons. “My baby sister could hit harder than you when she was three years old. Damn, if you’re going to turn Daimon, the least you could do is take a few fighting lessons so you can make my boring job more interesting.” He sighed wearily and looked up at the ceiling. “Where are the Spathi Daimons when you need them?”
    While the Dark-Hunter was distracted, the Daimon holding her moved the gun from her temple and fired four shots into him.
    The Dark-Hunter turned very slowly toward them.
    Fury descending over his face, he glared at the Daimon who had shot him. “Have you no honor? No decency? No damn brains? You don’t kil me with bul ets. You just piss me off.” He looked down at the bleeding wounds in his side, then pul ed his coat out so that light shone through the holes in the leather. He cursed again. “And you just ruined my friggin’ favorite coat.” The Dark-Hunter growled at the Daimon. “For that, you die.” Before Cassandra could move, the Dark-Hunter whipped his hand toward them. A thin black cord shot out and wrapped itself around the Daimon’s wrist.
    Faster than she could blink, the Dark-Hunter closed the distance between them, jerked the Daimon’s wrist, and wrung his forearm.
    She stumbled away from the Daimon and pressed herself against the broken jukebox, out of their way.
    With one hand stil on the Daimon’s arm, the Dark-Hunter grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off his feet. In a graceful arc, he slung the Daimon onto a table. Glasses shattered under the weight of the Daimon’s back. The gun hit the wooden floor with a cold, metal ic thud.
    “Didn’t your mother ever tel you the only way to kil us is to cut us into pieces?” the Dark-Hunter asked.
    “You should have brought a wood chipper instead of a gun.” He glared at the Daimon, who fought desperately against his hold. “Now, let’s see about freeing the human souls you’ve stolen.” The Dark-Hunter pul ed a butterfly knife from his boot, twirled it open, and plunged it into the Daimon’s chest.
    The Daimon decayed instantly, leaving nothing behind.
    The last two ran for the door.
    They didn’t get far before the Dark-Hunter pul ed a set of throwing knives out from under his coat and sent them flying with deadly precision into the backs of the fleeing kil ers. The Daimons exploded, and his knives hit the floor ominously.

    With an unbelievably deliberate calmness, the Dark-Hunter headed for the exit. He paused only long enough to retrieve his knives from the floor.
    Then he left as quickly and silently as he’d come.
    Cassandra struggled to breathe as the people in the bar came out of hiding and went berserk. Thankful y, even Kat pushed herself up and stumbled toward her.
    Her friends came running up to her.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Did you see what he did?”
    “I thought you were dead!”
    “Thank God, you’re stil alive!”
    “What did they want with you?”
    “Who were those guys?”
    “What happened to them?”
    She barely heard the voices that hit her ears so fast and blended that she couldn’t tel who asked what question. Cassandra’s mind was stil on the Dark-Hunter who’d come to her rescue. Why had he bothered to save her?
    She had to know more about him…
    Before she could think better of it, Cassandra ran after him, looking for a man who shouldn’t be real.
    Outside, blaring sirens fil ed the air and were getting progressively louder. Someone in the bar must have cal ed the police.
    The Dark-Hunter was halfway down the block before she caught up