Karin Harlow - Enemy Mine

Pocket Star Books A Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc. 1230 Avenue of the Americas New York, NY 10020 www.SimonandSchuster.com

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 2011 by Karin Tabke

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First Pocket Star Books paperback edition September 2011

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Cover illustration by Gene Mollica

Manufactured in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

ISBN 978-1-4391-7787-7

ISBN 978-1-4391-7797-6 (ebook)

To Dad, I miss you

ENEMY
MINE

Contents

HER DECEPTION KEPT HER ALIVE. AND SHE LIVED TO KILL.

S elena strode down the dark, slippery alleyway. Her warm breath curled in robust swirls around her head as she exhaled. Her four-inch heels clicked on the cobblestones smoothed by thousands of feet over hundreds of years, defiantly echoing the distant beat of a nearby nightclubs entertainment. Her quick, confident stride dared any man, woman, or beast to challenge her. It was fitting, she supposed, that her quarry had picked such an infamous area to ring in the New Year.

It would be his last celebration.

Abruptly, she stopped to pinpoint his exact location.

Her arms hung loosely at her sides and her fingertips tapped an anxious staccato on her smooth leather pants. A brisk wind shoved her black leather duster away from her before it settled loosely back around her body, cocooning her against the elements and whatever else might attempt to provoke her this night.

On a nice day, London was damp and cold; now, in the dead of winter, it was frigid. But shed dressed for the occasion. Shed forsaken her normal Miami-heat wear for head-to-toe leather.

She raised her chin and stared up at the gray moon. Clouds traced across it as the damp air began to mist. She detested London weather.

The muffled night sounds of straggling merrymakers drifted along the alley to her ears. She lifted her nose, closed her eyes, and inhaled. To a human, the air reeked of rotted food, urine, and misery. To her, half-daemon, the air could not have smelled sweeter.

Her quarry was near. His sulfurous scent overrode every other scent for miles.

The three platinum-set stones in her necklace warmed. She smiled and absently stroked them. Nanorians. Her talismans. More precious than any gem, the daemon hearts held power beyond what any mortal could wield.

Only a few beings knew how to harvest them, and fewer still possessed the power and cunning to extract one from its protected spot: a Hellkeepers chest.

She, however, would have no problem separating the rare stone from her quarry.

Her body twitched with anticipation as raucous laughter mixed with the driving beat of the nightclub. She leapt onto the edge of an overflowing Dumpster, using the stench to mask her own scent. Her human mothers people called her cazadora , huntress. Because she divested daemon-possessed humans of their ill-gotten gains and dispersed them to the less fortunate, they believed she was a modern-day Robin Hood. The image veiled what she really was, an outlaw asesina , an assassin, with only one prey: Hellkeepers. Seven of the most powerful daemons in Hell, and the only ones who possessed the treasured nanorians.

A group of four drunken revelers stumbled into the slick alley. She knew immediately all four were human. However, the largest male, the one she had been tracking for almost a week, the one who stank like Hell, was the one she focused on. And God help the poor human who played unwitting host to the Hellkeeper lurking inside him.

After Selena harvested the nanorian, the human might survive. If he didnt, shed feel a fleeting sense of regret, but would look beyond to the bigger picture. One less Hellkeeper on this earth not only served a personal vendetta, but it was in the best interest of mortals as a race.

The scent of alcohol wafted around her head. Good. She liked the unsuspecting to be drunk. That made it much easier to fill their heads with terror to distract them.

Ah, yes, the human mind, it was such a lovely thing to waste.

Turning her attention to the three who were clueless about the treacherous company they kept, Selena noiselessly pulled a long sword from the sheath strapped to her back. With both hands grasping the worn leather grip, she bent her head over the blade and pointed it at the three. Silently, she tapped into their thoughts, then began her incantation, conjuring up each ones deepest, darkest fears. Immediately, they stopped moving while the one possessed continued to walk toward her.

Terrified screams shredded the still air. One human placed his hands over his eyes and stumbled backward. Another covered her ears and fell to her knees on the stone. The third turned and fled, falling twice before clearing the entrance to the alley.

The possessed human stopped short, but not out of fear. His human form expertly surveyed the area. When he caught sight of her, power twined with malevolence pulsed off him in waves, slamming against her chest. Selena held steady.

Would you dare challenge me, human? he demanded, his daemon voice thick and thunderous. The woman and man behind him fled. Now it was just the two of them. Selena smiled at his erroneous assumption. Not only wasnt she human, but, no thanks to her father, she was one of the most powerful daemons hed ever encounter.

He was in for a surprise.

Keeping her sword at the ready, she hopped from the edge of the Dumpster to the ground, disturbing the thick waves of his power.