A Cold Day in Hell (Hellcat Series Book 3)

By Sharon Hannaford

The City may be calm, but is the Hunter about to become the hunted?

For the first time in months the City is peaceful, so peaceful that Gabi’s suspension from the Societas Malus Venatori doesn’t feel like a punishment. Her relationship with Julius is stronger than ever and Kyle has finally found his soul mate, even if he seems to need some convincing. Gabi thinks boredom is her most serious problem. She couldn’t be more wrong.

The visitor Julius has been both expecting and dreading arrives, bringing with him dire news. An old enemy, out to destroy them, has revealed to the Masters of the Vampire race that Gabi is a Dhampir. The visitor’s presence also answers the question that’s been simmering in Gabi’s head for years; the truth of her origins. This truth brings with it a deeper understanding of the implications of her very existence, and she doesn’t like what she discovers. But it’s too late to change what’s been done and Julius must now answer to the Princeps’ Court.

As Gabi makes plans to leave the City, drawing danger away from friends and family, a dark prophesy by the Magi Oracles forces her to change course. She will not be leaving the City alone, and she will not be running from the threat. She, Julius and a handful of others will be heading straight into the mouth of the beast. They must present themselves at Court before the Princeps travel to the City and inadvertently uncover one of the most closely guarded secrets of the Magi world.

While the Princeps wear a face of impartiality and civility, what boils beneath the surface is a storm of selfishness, greed, lust and perversion. Danger lurks in every corner and it soon becomes clear that someone is determined to ensure that Gabi will never get the chance of a fair hearing.

Old friends and old enemies do what they have always done best, while new friends and new enemies emerge at every turn. Only one thing is sure; it’ll be a cold day in Hell before Hellcat goes down without a fight.

Put the coffee on and warm up your page-turning finger, it’s going to be a long night.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sharon Hannaford
• Release date: Nov 14, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311283054

Sharon Hannaford

Sharon has been calling herself a writer since she was eight years old. She wrote her first auto-biography at age ten. As a teenager, she was teased about being a witch, because she wore lots of black and walked around with her black, Oriental cat on a lead. She never disagreed too loudly, after all, that may have drawn attention to the herd of unicorns that lived in her back garden. Born and raised in South Africa, she has called New Zealand home since 2008. Her life consists largely of looking after her husband, two kids, three cats, a dog, a pony and a horse, but her working day is spent writing, and her occasional hours off usually include books, horses or a glass of good red wine. Though she has had many jobs over the years, her favourite is, without doubt, being paid to write about the characters who take up residence in her head. After an early foray into writing for children, Sharon discovered Urban Fantasy; the genre that felt as though it had been created with her in mind. She loves nothing more than to create strong-willed, female lead characters, who challenge those around them almost as much as they challenge themselves. Sharon also loves animals of all shapes and sizes. She has owned all the usual suspects one would keep as a pet, and a few more exotic ones thrown in for good measure. She spent her teens working at a tourist farm and animal park, and as a result has handled everything from porcupines and warthogs, to ferrets and hedgehogs. She has been surrogate mom to many orphans including; kittens, lambs and an eagle owl. No matter how hard she tries, animals always seem to steal the limelight in her novels. She loves to hear from readers and welcomes messages via any of the usual channels.

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A Cold Day in Hell

(Hellcat Series Book 3)

by

Sharon Hannaford

COPYRIGHT

A Cold Day in Hell (Hellcat Series Book 3)

Sharon Hannaford

Copyright © 2013 by Sharon Hannaford

Cover Artwork by Erin Kuhle

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and occurrences are fictitious and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or means, electronic or mechanical, without permission from the copyright holder.

DEDICATION

For Garth, Rob and Ashleigh. Wherever you are is home for me. My little world is complete. Love you all insanely.

In Memory of Dinky

My little hooligan baby who, when she wasn’t up to mischief, spent many hours curled on my lap as I typed. I miss you little one, your time with us was much too short.

I

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

You would think as you get more experienced at your craft that you might need less help from others, but somehow reality seems quite the opposite. My list of people to thank gets longer and more profound with each book.

As always, thanks go to my wonderful editor; Pauline Nolet and my fabulous graphic artist, Erin Kuhle. Without the finishing touches, my work would simply fade into the noise.

My group of Alpha readers has grown too big to name individually, but thank you for the time, effort and encouragement, your work is invaluable to me.

If there’s one thing moving to the other side of the world has taught me, it’s the true value of friendship. When blood relations are thousands of miles away, friends become family. It was a big year for our family, and you never get through ‘big’ years on your own. Thank you to all those who generously helped out this past year; taking Rob for a day, making a meal, sharing a coffee or a glass of wine, lending an ear. You know who you are and you mean the world to us. Carley, of course, stands a little above the rest; without you book 3 would probably have taken several years longer to complete. Your gift with littlies must never be underestimated or ignored; you are the perfect day-mommy and friend!

To friends and family who continue to encourage, prod and congratulate; big kisses – I love ya!

Last, but by no means least, my readers, my Hellions and the street team members who’ve supported me and my fellow authors over the months. You guys simply ROCK!

PROLOGUE

The club was unnervingly empty for a Friday night, Kyle reflected. The music wasn't blaring at the usual ninety-five decibels—a relief to his werewolf auditory system. Everything else was normal: the lights, the drinks, the writhing bodies on the dance floor. If you considered a nightclub full of supernatural beings normal, of course. Norms, as most of those present referred to humans, had been turned away from the club tonight. The club's owner, Julius, Master Vampire of the City, was having his own private party, thanking those who'd put in long, hard hours rebuilding the manor house on his estate after it was bombed by a nut-job human. Tonight was for his people to enjoy themselves without fear of upsetting any humans or having to hide their true natures.

His eyes roved the dance floor as he pulled Trish closer against him. He couldn't get enough of feeling her skin pressed close to his, her scent enveloping him, her sea-breeze-scented hair tickling his nose. They were taking a break from dancing to raid the catering tables, which were groaning with enough food to feed, well, a club full of hungry Werewolves. Trish responded by turning to nuzzle his neck and press a kiss to his bare skin. The wolf inside him rumbled satisfaction, making his human side slightly uneasy. It was the first time in his life that he and his wolf were not in complete agreement.

Kyle had a better-than-average understanding and control of his inner wolf personality; he was the only known Werewolf who'd been born already infected with the Lycanthropy virus. He'd never known life without the other half of his personality, never been alone in his own head. He found it easy to push the wolf personae back and assert his human side whenever he needed to, and his wolf rarely fought him for control. But things had changed the moment he saw Trish lying on the bed in her brother's house, bleeding from a terrible neck wound.

His wolf had decided in that moment that Trish was his. She hadn't even been a Werewolf at that stage. The virus hadn't had time to take over her body; her own wolf didn’t exist yet. At that time there hadn’t even been any kind of certainty that she'd survive the assault the Lycanthropy virus had been making on her body. The majority of women, and even a large percentage of men, didn't make it through the raging fever that was the body's attempt to kill off the virus before it took hold.

When Trish had made it through the fever stage, Kyle had been relieved, but his wolf had been smug, he hadn't doubted her strength once. It wasn't that Kyle wasn't attracted to Trish. On the contrary, he found her appealing on so many levels it scared him. But he wanted to take things slowly, let Trish get used to her new life, find her feet, and learn about her reinvention without pressure.

A common Werewolf trait was a tendency to promiscuity; they rarely settled with just one partner in the first few years after the Change. This was especially true when the moon was heading towards full. This was when the Lycanthropy virus was at its most potent. Rage and sexual tensions ran high then, and often Werewolves eased their tension with whoever was willing, able and accessible.

Kyle had never been ridden by the virus like the others, so while he understood it, he didn't partake like the others, always holding himself back. He wouldn't share a partner; it wasn't in his nature. Others thought of him as an easy-going kind of person, especially those who hadn't seen him in his wolf form, and these days he rarely Changed, except to enjoy an occasional full moon run with one of the Packs, but in truth he'd discovered within himself a possessive streak wide enough that he knew monogamy was his only option. The wolf might be willing to allow Trish her freedom while she came to terms with her dual nature, but the man couldn't.

Trish's first Change had been one of the most stressful things he’d ever endured. She'd coped better than he had. He would be eternally grateful that Gabi had agreed to be there; it was about the only thing that kept him from losing his mind. His best friend, and fellow supernatural anomaly, had been a rock at a time when she’d had her own stresses to deal with. She'd spent the better part of two days helping to keep Trish's brother, Derek, from Changing to wolf form. The full moon rose only days after the assault on Jason's compound, which had claimed half of Derek's left leg. The doctor was worried that if he Changed form, he would undo any progress he'd made in healing.

Trish had done extremely well for her first Change. In only minutes a beautiful, petite, chocolate brown wolf lay panting on the ground in Gabi's garage. Gabi calmed and soothed the new wolf using her unique gift to communicate with animals, while Kyle quickly forced his own transformation. It was easier to communicate in wolf form. He’d coaxed her into going for a run in a forested area on Gabi's rural property. Trish's wolf was shy and initially a little clumsy, but also playful and curious; Kyle's wolf was even more stubbornly insistent that she was his.

He hadn't been able to stop himself taking her to bed that night after they left Gabi's, the tension had been too much for both of them. Still, he was resisting officially declaring her his mate; once he did that, he knew he would never be able to stand allowing her near another male Werewolf. Her freedom to choose for herself would be gone. And so, while he allowed himself to enjoy a physical relationship with her, he was holding himself back. And he and his wolf were at loggerheads.

Trish turned away, laying her head back against him as she took in the small crowd. They knew most of the faces, if not all the names. Many were Vampires and Werewolves, some even from rival City Packs, all playing nice for once. There were a couple of Magi and the occasional Shape-shifter, mostly SMV employees.

Then Kyle noticed a couple entwined in a dark corner of the club; the woman was a Vampire, but the man was human. One of the feeders from Julius's estate, Kyle assumed, as this party was by invitation only. The man's eyes were closed in ecstasy as the woman's face nuzzled determinedly into the junction of his neck and shoulder. Kyle repressed a shudder. He knew it was hypocritical of him, Werewolves frequently fed in their wolf shape, usually on freshly killed herbivores, but it was hard to think of humans as a meal.

As he sipped from his beer bottle, he continued his perusal of the club. His attention was caught next by the couple dominating the dance floor. Given a respectful space by the other dancers, Julius and Gabi were entwined together, moving like a single, co-ordinated entity. Each beat of the music, each tiny nuance of sound echoed through their bodies, their eyes only for each other. They were only a couple of steps shy of actually having sex. Kyle wasn't the only one bemused by the spectacle; several Vampires and a few Werewolves stood with barefaced amazement on their faces, watching the dancers.

Kyle had known Gabi for more than half his life, but Julius had been unknown to them both until just a few months ago, when a nasty excuse for a Vampire tried to flood the City with Demons from the Etherworld. He'd learned several things about the Master Vampire since meeting him, the first and most important thing being that he was a scary fucker. His mere presence cowed most Werewolves, including some of the City's Pack Leaders. Vampires treated him with careful respect at best and exuded outright terror at worst. Only a handful spoke to him candidly, and even most of those tacked a respectful 'Sire' onto the ends of their sentences.

The Master Vampire even made Kyle himself slightly nervous, his wolf always urging caution when Julius was in the same airspace. Trish valiantly fought to keep her usual calm and cheerful demeanour when Julius was around, but even though she now officially worked for him, Kyle knew it was a constant struggle for her to deal with his close proximity. Julius radiated power and danger, just being near him triggered most people’s fight or flight reflex. You didn't even need to have supernatural senses to pick up on it; Kyle had seen norms go out of their way to walk around him, avoiding eye contact and hurrying away.

For some reason, Gabi seemed utterly immune to all the danger signals he emitted. Kyle doubted she even realised how much others feared the man she teased, argued with, ordered around and occasionally lost her temper with. He doubted she had any idea how much leeway Julius gave her and how little he gave others. Gabi had never been a pushover herself and had a hard time curbing her quick temper and smart mouth, but she seemed like a bunny rabbit compared to Julius. The man probably hadn’t needed to lose his temper for decades; the sheer force of his personality was enough to keep everyone around him in line.

But as much as they were obviously in lust with each other, and tended to do as they pleased rather than bow to the conventional, it wasn't normal for Gabi and Julius to be quite this openly demonstrative either.

A most unusual sight, drawled a voice with a British accent to his right.

Kyle turned to find Alexander—Julius's pretty boy, right-hand man—following the direction of his gaze. There was a pretty blonde woman at his side. When Kyle recognised her, he very nearly snorted beer out of his nose. The woman at Alexander's side was none other than Athena, the haughty Magi High Council Magus. Notoriously unconcerned with anything or anyone not Magus, it was a shock to see her in a club full of Vamps and Weres, let alone seeing her in the company of the Master of the City's second in command. Athena caught his dumbfounded expression and lifted an imperious, challenging eyebrow at him, but not even the dim lighting and smoky atmosphere could hide the faint blush spreading across her cheekbones.

Kyle grunted, at a complete loss for what to say. Alexander caught the direction of his stunned gaze, and smirked, his fangs unusually prominent. Luckily the music was loud enough that conversation wasn't strictly necessary. Kyle looked away, back to where Gabi and Julius were virtually fusing their bodies together to the beat of the dance music, and something struck him about Alexander’s words. He glanced back at the blond Vampire and saw that he, too, was watching them again, all hint of amusement gone and something else in his expression. If Kyle didn't know better, he'd have said it was concern.

It was then that all the little niggling occurrences of the past few weeks sewed themselves into a dark, worrying tapestry. While Gabi was on stand-down from her duties with the SMV, a clandestine group who monitored and policed the supernatural citizens of the City, she'd been concentrating on her animal training and handling work on film sets and for certain VIP clients. She always had more offers of work than she could cope with. Her ability to deal with difficult animals was the stuff of legends, and the norms didn't know a quarter of what she was truly capable of. She had stoically accepted her suspension from the SMV, while they discussed what to do about her unsanctioned killing of Jason, the nut-job human who'd car-bombed Julius's mansion. The same human had been trying to build an army of genetically engineered Werewolves to use as mercenary soldiers for hire to war-torn areas of the world.

Kyle had first-hand experience of exactly how crazy this man had been. He'd been captured by the egomaniac and used as a guinea pig for his genetic research. The man had then had the audacity to offer Kyle a job as Alpha Leader of the mercenaries. He was a true crackpot, who'd ultimately tried to turn himself into a Werewolf in order to save his own ass. It'd backfired, and Gabi had put him down like the rabid dog he was. Unfortunately the SMV Council weren't in agreement.

Their mandate wasn't to police humans, so Gabi was in the SMV dog box (not for the first time, but this was her most severe transgression so far), and her relationship with Byron, SMV co-founder and the closest thing she had to a father after her own had been killed in the line of duty for the SMV, was strained.

To casual friends and acquaintances, she was coping well and enjoying having more time to herself, but Kyle knew better. Something was seriously bugging her, but she brushed him off every time he broached the subject. They'd been best friends since school days, and there was almost nothing they didn't share. Kyle had been putting down her reticence to his newly developing relationship with Trish, who had become a close friend of Gabi's after Jason’s efforts saw both Trish and her brother, a work colleague of Gabi's, infected with Lycanthropy. Kyle had figured she was giving them space to get to know each other, while also finding her feet in her relationship with Julius.

But now he thought maybe he'd been wrong.

He'd seen something disturbing in Julius's behaviour recently. He'd caught Julius watching Gabi with a dark, intense, protective stare when she wasn't looking. Extra guards lurked everywhere the two of them went, and Julius had developed an uncharacteristic interest in his new mobile phone. The Werewolf Pack Leaders of the City had been put on alert about visiting Vampires, and instructed to report any suspicious visitors to Julius's Clan immediately. Trish had been sworn to secrecy about the work she did for Julius. She'd once moonlighted as a hacker, and Julius was now employing her to hack information for him. She refused to discuss the details, even with Kyle, but it was apparent that she'd uncovered something disturbing.

As he watched the pair dance, Kyle was suddenly certain of one thing. His eyes met Alexander's, and the slender Vampire gave a slight nod, his arrogant smirk for once a deadly serious mask.

Trouble was on the way, and it was going to be big and nasty and equipped with fangs.

CHAPTER 1

Gabi stared the Werewolf down, her hands on her petite hips, her short sword, Nex, securely tucked in a sheath down her back. He glared at her belligerently from just a few feet away, furious that she'd let herself into the little house after he refused to answer the door. He wasn't in wolf form, but the scent of Werewolf was thick enough to be gag-inducing for anyone with better-than-human olfactory senses. She worked hard not to wrinkle her nose in disgust. It wasn't just the Werewolf scent, the man smelled like he hadn't showered in days.

What do you want? Did Trish send you? Did she tell you I need a friendly face to cheer me up? he snarled, 180 pounds of muscular, silver-eyed, brown-haired, pissed-off, dominant Werewolf. His left leg was missing from just above the knee. The remainder of his leg was tucked into a lifelike prosthetic lower limb, complete with foot and hinged ankle joint, clearly visible below his tatty football shorts. A state-of-the-art, bladelike prosthetic rested against a wall behind him, nestled close to a pair of crutches.

Nothing like trying to flaunt the excuse for your rage, Gabi thought, biting back a growl of her own. Served her right for thinking just yesterday that life had been just a little too calm and routine for her liking. The phone call from Trish wasn't completely unexpected, nor was the plea for help. In a case like this she would've stepped up to help even Athena (one of her least favourite people in the world), so it was impossible to say no to Trish, the first real female friend she'd had in years.

Derek, enough, she snapped, her voice a whip through the room. You've had long enough to feel sorry for yourself. She watched the disbelieving anger pound through him, and tensed, waiting for his reaction. But her words had momentarily knocked him off balance. He was so accustomed to everyone tiptoeing around him, trying to say the right thing, not saying anything to set off his hair-trigger temper, that her attitude simply floored him. And she hadn't even gotten started yet.

She levelled a glare at him. Time to stop taking the coward's road. Look at how you're forcing Trish to deal with all of this. Your little sister has to be the one acting strong, being the rock, taking all the shit you've been dishing out day after day for weeks.

She hadn't seen him much since that first full moon after he'd lost his leg during the raid on Jason's compound. Gabi didn't have the kind of personality that dealt well with the feeling-sorry-for-oneself phase of grieving. Not that Derek hadn't been through a fair-sized shit-storm in the last two months. Coping with the Change to Werewolf, attacking your own sister, and having to watch her go through the Change too, then losing half your leg would break some people.

The memory of the night he lost his leg was still starkly imprinted in her mind. The scene would haunt her dreams for months: a huge, beautiful, chocolate brown Werewolf snapping and snarling his rage and pain to the small crowd of Vampires and Werewolves keeping him contained; his hind leg savaged and hanging on by only a small strip of skin; severed tendons, muscles and bone all clearly visible; blood pouring from the horrific injury over mangled flesh and fur. It had been one breath shy of impossible to centre herself enough to push her will towards the almost demented wolf and calm it, convince it that they meant it no harm and it needed to let them help.

It was a lucky thing she'd accidentally discovered, just weeks before, that her ability to control the emotions and reactions of animals also extended to the wolf side of a Werewolf. It had taken precious minutes, but she'd finally calmed him enough that he could Change to human form and the medics could treat him. They'd stopped the bleeding and saved his life, but not even a Werewolf could heal a leg that badly damaged.

Jonathon, the City's resident Vampire doctor, had had to perform an amputation. It had affected every person who'd been involved. Losing a Werewolf to death was one thing, having a live one trying to cope with a disability was something else entirely.

There was no longer any chance of Derek resuming his career as a stunt double for action movie stars, and his chances of making it as an SMV Hunter were now slim. It was one thing to be in human form, where a prosthetic leg combined with his Werewolf strength, balance and speed still gave him an edge over most opponents, but once he Changed to wolf form, he was one leg down and at a severe disadvantage. He viewed himself as a cripple, as damaged goods with no future. If he continued to see himself like that, then that's exactly what Gabi feared he would become.

What's wrong, Bo? she continued, deliberately goading him as he tried to breathe through the anger. Does the truth hurt? Is it hard to hear that you're acting like a spoilt three-year-old? Would you prefer if I left you to your precious little pity party? Her cruel jibes broke the shock of her initial attack, and he roared, diving at her in a mad rush of mindless temper. The injury had done nothing to make him slower or weaker than your average werewolf, so he hit her with the force of a charging buffalo. It took every ounce of her self-control not to jump out of his path.

She felt pain explode in her chest as her breath left her in a whoosh, and a couple of ribs groaned warningly. He pounded her into the floorboards, his body like a pillar of concrete over hers, one fist raised. She had to mentally remind herself that this was all part of the plan. Luckily her Dhampir blood, strengthened by a recent intake of well-matured, Master Vampire blood (the memory almost drew a blush despite her current activity), would heal any physical damage within hours.

She squeezed one eye shut, trying to draw breath as he suddenly froze, his rage turning to contrition in an instant. Nex's sheath dug into her spine, and she squirmed a little.

Gabi, he gasped, I'm sorry. Gabi, fuck, I didn't mean to… He looked appalled as he rolled off her, then leaned in, his hands anxiously moving to check her for injury. Did I hurt… Before he finished his sentence, Gabi drove a fist into his solar plexus. He reared back, grunting in surprise and pain just as she caught his head between her knees and twisted, flipping him over her body flat onto his back on the other side of her. His leg caught a small coffee table and sent it skittering into a wall, splintering it into several pieces and leaving a dent in the plaster.

She lay for a moment gasping, drawing in painful lungfuls of air, but the fight had energised her like nothing else had in weeks. Derek rolled onto his knees, coughing, glaring at her in hurt astonishment. But she wasn't letting him get off that easy. It was time for the anger stage, and he needed to let rip on someone. Gabi wouldn't allow it to be Trish, and she knew if he picked a fight with Kyle or one of the other Werewolves or Vampires, it would turn deadly serious. It was the dominant Werewolf 'thing'. The same 'thing' she was relying on to keep him from actually trying to kill her; she didn't want to put him out of his misery quite that permanently. Werewolves were notorious for being protective of women, even though most of their women were more than capable of looking after themselves.

Come on, Mr Self-pity, she taunted him again, is that the best you've got? She sprang lightly to her feet, staying in a low fighter's stance. He flipped quickly to his feet, well, foot; he had to position the prosthesis back on the floor before he was properly balanced. He never took his eyes off her face, though. He knew her well enough to know she'd wipe the floor with him if he wasn't very careful. Gabi smiled a small, vicious grin and then whirled toward him, aiming a lightning-fast kick at his ribs. He caught her foot, but hadn't anticipated the follow-up roundhouse kick from her other foot, catching him square on the side of his face and sending his head snapping to the side. She landed in a crouch and took in his expression; in an instant she knew it was game on.

He growled, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, but the rage had been usurped by excitement, determination and wolf cunning. He prowled closer to her, circling, testing her reflexes. She allowed his assessment for a few seconds, feeling the wolf in him sizing her up: its amusement at her petite stature, its respect for her speed and agility, its readiness to play. She feinted to one side, hooking a wooden chair with one foot, flicking it up into the air before grabbing and swinging it hard into Derek's left side. It smashed against his arm and torso, disintegrating into pieces. He took the blow with a grunt and then lunged for her again.

Luckily the cottage was furnished with only the basics, it was one of Julius's spare housing blocks and was rarely in use. Derek had started off pulling his punches, not laying into her like he would with a man. He was superb at timing after his years as a stuntman, but Gabi didn't allow him the same consideration, and as she gradually notched up the bruises and broken bones, he began to fight more seriously.

Gabi knew every weak spot there was on a Werewolf, she'd grown up sparring with Kyle, her best friend, and she often trained at SMV headquarters against one or more of the other Hunters or trainees. In contrast, Derek knew almost nothing about her fighting style and martial arts training. Up until two months ago Derek had only known her as an experienced animal trainer who dealt largely with big cats and other potentially-lethal-to-man animals on movie sets. He'd been trying to get into her bed for years, but she'd kept him at arm’s length because he was a norm. It’d led to some uncomfortable moments between them lately; she hoped to hell he was finally getting over his interest in her as a bed mate.

They must have been at it for over half an hour when a knock at the door distracted them. They paused, but didn't dare take their eyes from each other.

It's Patrick, called a deep male voice from the other side. He was Julius's daytime Head of Security, a military veteran and also a Werewolf. Julius sent me to ask if you two will call a truce so that he can get some rest.

Guilt slapped Gabi in the face. The mental connection between her and Julius had grown so strong recently that he'd probably felt every kick, punch, and body slam, never mind the adrenalin high.

She swiped at the sweat dripping into her eyes with the back of her hand. Her breathing was harsh and laboured. She was bleeding from a couple of places and could feel bruises and contusions forming all over her body. She finally dropped her fighting stance and relaxed, releasing Derek's gaze to run her eyes over the whole of him. He was in even worse shape than she was, but there was a sparkle in his eyes, and the dark cloud that seemed to have been part of him when she arrived had dissipated.

Thanks, Patrick, Gabi called back towards the door, I think we're done for now.

A grunt of acknowledgment and his light footsteps moved briskly away.

I'm done for the next month, Derek declared, collapsing to the floor in exhaustion. He sprawled on the floorboards, arms spread-eagled, his breathing coming in short, sharp gasps. The prosthetic leg was lying at a funny angle, but he didn't seem to notice. Gabi hoped it had come through the fight unscathed. She’d tried to be careful about it; they weren't cheap or easy to produce. I guess you didn't get the memo from Jonathon about me only doing light physical activity, Derek asked, his gaze

Reviews for A Cold Day in Hell (Hellcat Series Book 3)

[CaseyMorgan · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

really enjoyed this book, as with the first two in the series. looking forward to the 4th :)