Releasing the Hunter

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The thump thump thump of hip-hop music vibrated over Ivy Strom’s flesh, making the little hairs on her arms stand to attention. The rhythmic noise was so loud she could barely hear her own rapid heartbeat.

She took another sip of her tonic and lime, the liquid quenching her dry throat. From her perch on the stool at the main bar, she scanned the dance floor once more for her quarry, her eyes pausing every so often on lone males.

She’d been told that Sallos, the Great Duke of Hell, would be here, lurking around like the degenerate demon he was. He’d taken two girls from here in the past four months. This was supposedly one of his favorite hunting grounds.

Now it was hers.

Ivy shifted in her seat; the silver daggers she had strapped to her sides underneath her T-shirt were starting to chafe. It was difficult to dress inconspicuously for a club and still carry as much hardware as she wanted.

She had no less than four knives on her, all silver; two ampuls of holy water, hidden carefully in her cleavage; and she’d hung a bag of salt from her belt. And of course she wore a blessed silver cross around her neck. She was prepared for anything to happen. With demons, it usually did.

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