Hunting the Demon

He placed the blade in his palm and handed the hilt back to her. She slid it back in its sheath and snapped its strap.

“Weapons are a powerful thing. There’s a mind/body connection to what you hold in your hand that adds to your strength when wielding your piece.”

Shay arched a brow. “You know more about weaponry than I thought.”

Nic shrugged. “I’ve dabbled here and there.”

“Bought into the bad-boy image, hook, line, and sinker, did you?”

He grinned. She read him pretty well. “Bad boy, huh?”

“You have the look.”

“What look?”

“Gorgeous, sex appeal, charm, a bit of a dangerous edge. Irresistible to some women.”

He tried not to laugh. He had no business feeling this sense of ease, this playfulness with Shay. But he couldn’t help it. He tried to keep his distance from her, to hold on to the anger, but something compelled him, drove him to get closer.

“I see. Some women. But not you, of course.”

“Of course not. I’m immune to that kind of thing.”

Challenge. She’d thrown down the gauntlet and he snatched it up, ready to do battle.

“You’re immune,” he said.

“Yup.”

“Wanna bet?”