Page 135 of Hunt Me Down

But he didn’t believe in taking foolish chances with his own life.

The tiger would die. No question. He’d be there for the end.

He yanked the car door closed and frowned at the windshield. That wouldn’t do. The last thing he needed was for someone to see that wonderful blood.

Leaning over, he unlocked the glove box and pulled out the cloths he kept for just such an occasion.

Moments later, the glass was clean. He shoved the cloths back in the glove box and turned on the car. Then he took a deep breath because he did love that sweet smell.

But he couldn’t linger any longer. Not with the body just outside. The area was deserted, for now, but someone would be coming along soon. They always did.

With a flick of his fingers, he punched the button for the radio and the soft strains of Brahms floated to his ears.

A smile curved his lips. Now it was time to go.

Time for the next kill.

As he backed out of the alley, he couldn’t help but wonder,how long will the tiger fight?And when he died, would Jude Donovan have time to scream? Or would he die like the hyena, choking on his own blood?

* * *

“Down there.” The demon, eyes completely black, raised his hand and pointed down the twisting steps.

The first floor of the den had been completely deserted. No big surprise there. Jude knew the demons liked to be prepared, just in case there were any unexpected and unwanted—usually human—visitors.

So the real action was never up front in a den. No, it was always in the back, or in this case, below.

The faint drum of pounding music teased his ears. Jude deliberately relaxed his shoulders, ready for whatever hell he’d find waiting down there. He brushed by the demon, and his nostrils flared as he caught the stale odor of sweat and cigarettes.

Carefully, he eased down the creaking steps. What was this? A basement? Lower level?

The door behind him swung shut.

Jude stiffened. Then he heard the sound of a bolt sliding into place.Locking me in.

No, lockingthemin—because he could hear voices from below. Laughter.

He shook his head. Like a lock was going to hold him in this den. When he was ready to leave, he’d just kick the door down. Easy.

His claws broke free, the brief pain making his heart surge. His canines burned as they lengthened, readying him for the fight to come. He’d go in as a man, but if the shit got too bad, he would go out as a tiger.

His claws scraped over the stair railing as he climbed down the rest of the steps. No rush. The bastards weren’t going to get by him.

The room below was bigger than he’d thought. Not a room, more like three rooms. Thick with smoke, from the flickering flames of candles that were the only light and from hell knew what else. The scents in the air had his nose twitching and burning. How the demons could handle that crap...

“Hello, shifter.” The voice was loud, mocking.

The rock music kept pounding in the background.

Jude jumped off the last step.

His gaze swept the area. Demons were lounging against the walls. Some were curled up on the floor. Maybe fifteen of them total. He eyed the dark shadows. More bodies could be in there.

Maybe twenty.

Demons and their addictions.

But the guy who’d called to him,hedidn’t have that blank, slack look on his face. No, that guy—the big bastard with his black demon eyes—was planted about fifteen feet away. His legs were braced a shoulder’s length apart. His arms hung loosely at his sides, and he was smiling. A come-and-get-me grin.

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