The Hunter by Theresa Meyers Page B

as they bobbed and bounced in the air, but combined they lit the space with a warm reddish glow.
    “Haven’t seen fireflies like that before.”
    She tilted her lips up in a coy smile. “Unless you go to Hell sometime, you never will.”
    “They’re kinda pretty.” The way he said it made it obvious he wasn’t just talking about fireflies from Hell. He locked gazes with her, his pupils dilated a fraction, the dark nearly swallowing the deeper blue.
    Lilly forced herself to remember that he was a Hunter first and a man second. “Not everything from Hell is horrible. Sometimes they just reside there out of circumstance.”
    An eerie green glow filled the shaft in front of them, and Lilly pinched her nose at the increasing stagnant stench. She inched closer to Colt, unsure of what awaited them. The map in Colt’s hand seemed to come to an end with X marking the spot.
    The floor of the shaft sloped upward enough that they couldn’t see over the rise, but based on the smell alone Lilly had an idea they were close to still water. Colt was going to balk. They’d never get the Book, not if it required him to swim. She slowed down, forcing Colt to lag in his steps.
    “What’s wrong?”
    She sighed. “Just how far are you willing to go for what you’re looking for? I know you are willing to kill for it, but are you willing to die for it?”
    He eyed her warily. “If I have to.”
    “What about swim?”
    “Excuse me?”
    “Swim. Are you willing to swim for it?”
    Colt stiffened. “Why?”
    They crested the top of the rise. The trail ended below them at the shores of a wide, acid green lake, which glowed with an unearthly phosphorescence that lit up the stalactites overhead in ripples of green light.
    “Because you might wish you had died instead,” she said flatly.
    They walked down to the shoreline of black sand, which ran in both directions until it disappeared in the darkness. It was impossible to see how big the lake was.
    The light of the fireflies bounced and reflected off the water as ghostly female forms, transparent and as oddly green as the water, drifted with sightless eyes and placid smiles just beneath the surface.
    “What in tarnation? More water? Are you sure we aren’t already in Hell? Maybe we crossed the border back there,” he ground out, irritation lacing his tone.
    The succubus shrugged. “Everyone has their own personal version of Hell. Just figures that a Hunter wouldn’t be afraid of flames and brimstone.”
    He blatantly ignored her comment. “And what are those things?” He pointed to the placid figures in the water.
    “Naiads, water sprites. The minute you touch that water, they’ll try to lure you in deeper. Don’t give me that superior I’m-a-Hunter-and-I’d-never-succumb look. Trust me, you won’t be able to resist.”
    He turned his gaze back to the water, transfixed. “We’ll have to find a way around.”
    “It could be a thousand miles,” Lilly pointed out. “Straight across will be quicker.”
    He turned his head slowly to look at her again. “Across? What for?”
    “That.” She pointed, and his eyes reluctantly followed her finger.
    On the far shore, a small rock ledge jutted out of the cavern wall, extending just over the surface of the water. Above it was a black shiny door made of what looked like volcanic glass set into a rough wall of gray granite.
    “Damn.” He shook his head, scrubbing his face with his hands. “You sure there ain’t another way?”
    Now was her chance if she wanted to ensnare him. His guard was as down as it was ever going to be. She could take his will, bend it to her wishes, but then, then she’d never know if his response was genuinely to her or just to her succubus powers. Here was the risk, staring her straight in the face. Daring her to take the chance.
    What’s it going to be? If she glamoured him, it would be easy as pie to hand him and the piece of the Book over to Rathe. If she glamoured him, he’d become just another