Hunting in Hell Read Online Free

  
    Teleportation?   Both?   Or maybe it was something she had never seen before, although she doubted it.   De La Roca was getting to the point where she had seen pretty much everything.   Why pick a gun factory, unless you could use the guns?
    Maybe I should go back and find the Mademoiselle.   She might be able to tell me something about what to expect in there .
    She had already reached for the reins when the rattlesnake voice popped into her ear.
    What was your kevra, do you think?
    She had often asked herself the same question.   Each time she made a kill and took the stone, she wondered how close its powers were to the power she once had, but couldn't remember.   And every time, she looked within herself, searching for a stirring of familiarity, but it never came.
    No!   Go away!
    She shoved the rattlesnake voice back into the part of her mind where it couldn't bother her—at least for a while.   Now was the time to focus or die, and she preferred to avoid the latter.  
    Alsvior slowed, his ears twitching.   Attuned to her mount, she froze.   Like his, her ears searched the surrounding terrain for noise, but there weren't any signs of life.  
    Even so, her heart accelerated.   A human artifact, it should have been taken when she was reborn as a demon, yet it still beat in her chest, announcing her awareness.
    Silently, she crossed her arms and slid them down her sides.   With a circular flourish, she drew out the pistol and the revolver and settled them into the ready position.
    She didn't hear the click—she sensed it.   An image appeared in her mind—the hesitant slide of a safety switch, the red dot warning that the gun was ready to fire.  
    "Down!"
    Alsvior dropped to his front knees as she buried her face in his mane.   The area above him exploded in a shower of drywall and stone, the shot missing them by the smallest fraction of a second.
    "Circle!"
    In a single motion, he jumped up and took off running.   She vaulted off of his back, firing the pistol from midair and toward the bullet's origin.   Before she hit the ground, she was rewarded with a scream.
    Got you.
    Alsvior was completing the circle.   Her hands clamped around the gun-grips, she jumped into the saddle with a gigantic springing leap.   More snake-like than human, the vault would have shocked any bystander.   "Left, sharp," she shouted, and he spun into a low-leaning turn without losing speed.  
    They made a lap without further engagement, and then another .   If there were other shooters, they’re either gone, or biding their time.  
    Her heart still racing, she decided they should take their chances.   I want to see this man’s body.   She nudged Alsvior with her knees, and he obediently approached the corpse.
    It had landed facedown.   Thin, small-statured, long hair.   De la Roca sucked on her teeth.   She could see the exit wound, a burnt hole with shreds of shirt trailing around it like an open flower.   But no blood.   That’s not a good sign .   She kicked the body with her boot, pushing hard enough to turn it over.  
    Small breasts and delicate cheekbones—it was a woman.    De la Roca could see the entrance hole, smaller and finer than the exit wound.   From its placement, it’s gone straight through her heart.  
    No blood on this side, either.   Her stomach turned, and there was a tension in her head that made her think of the serpent-voice’s laugh.
    Demons had many ways of entrapping and controlling humans, from brainwashing to bribery, but true mind-control?   That wasn’t an akra— a small power.  
    She resumed sucking on her teeth again, the squiggly feeling in her gut getting worse.   It’s got to be a kevra.   Few things were as hazardous as a demon's one pure power, no matter what form it took.  
    Unless—what if she was a hired gun?   It wouldn't have to be a feeder then.
    That doesn't explain the lack of blood.
    De la Roca took another frustrated look at the body, but