Echo: Extinction, #4

By Ashlyn Mathews

"By day, you are your mother's child. Too bad the night can't strip you of your father's sins. Your life would be less complicated."

Demon hunter Echo Wren lives underground out of necessity. Isolated from others, she can't hurt them with her touch. And presumed to have died in an explosion, her solitary existence safeguards her greatest shame and secret. She's the daughter of Vicious, the master demon responsible for murdering her mother's kind to the brink of extinction.

Betrayed and a kill order placed on her head, Echo is forced above ground and in proximity to the man hired to protect her. As her once quiet and safe life careen towards danger, Echo struggles with a different threat—her growing feelings for her sexy bodyguard and the mess of their tangled pasts. Rourke Summers blames her for his parents' murders.

Cursed by her mother's gods. Given away by her father. Betrayed by a man from her past.

Can Echo let go of past hurts and put her undeniable attraction for Rourke to the test? Or will she walk away from his scorching kisses and promise of a lifetime of his protection? After what happened in her past, Echo can never ask anyone to give up their life for her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: First Bite Publishing
• Release date: May 23, 2017
• ISBN: 9780996380133

Ashlyn Mathews

Ashlyn Mathews is a registered nurse with an overactive imagination. Her interests and activities include taking a lot of pictures of her golden retrievers and flowers and posting them on social media (occasionally she’ll post pictures of her kids and hubby), binge-watching funny and romantic Netflix shows, reading books and magazines of various genres, eating a lot of carbs, and drinking A LOT of coffee. Hot, iced, blended… it doesn’t matter as long as it has coffee. For more on her romance series, visit ashlynmathews.com.

Book preview

1

In front of her, the dimly lit underground tunnel stretched beyond her range of sight, but Echo wasn’t worried for her safety. She was part pureblood, part demon, and the gods and the devil had gifted her with the ability to see in the dark.

After seven years of traveling the secret passageway spanning from the border of Mexico to Canada, she should be used to the drive, but she wasn’t. If given a choice, she’d rather fly, take a train, or use the interstate like normal folks.

But, Echo wasn’t normal, not by a long shot. Maneuvering past rubble, she gunned the engine of her Ducati. Above ground, people basked in the sunshine of a June day. Lucky them. She had mixed feelings.

Certain days she preferred the solitude of the tunnels. Other times she hated how the tunnels defined her life. For instance, right now. Her breakneck speed to make an important meeting drained her like a battery used to its last charge. Her body recharged not from food, rest or sleep but from the emotions in the voices of the unsuspecting above-ground normal people.

With strategically placed audio feeds, Echo caught snippets of people’s conversations laced with a wide range of emotions. Happy emotions didn’t give her as much strength as the bad ones did. Rage, jealousy, and hatred were emotions that could give her a transformer size charge.

The buzz of happiness and excitement along this last stretch of tunnel sent a clear message. She’d arrived beneath downtown Seattle. So intent was she in deciphering the emotions, she nearly hit the man who dared to step in front of her.

She braked, but there wasn’t enough time or distance between them. Gripping the handlebars, Echo vaulted onto the seat and propelled her body upwards, soaring over his head.

Behind her, her magnificent piece of machinery was split in half, cut by his sword. Landing on her feet, she yanked off her helmet and faced him.

He slammed his sword into its sheath. How many times have I told you to slow down around these damn corners?

Did he growl at her? When he marched toward her, Echo stood firm, though her heart hammered fast, and her breaths came out too rapidly from their close call with disaster. Clutching her helmet in one hand, she smoothed her hair with the other and gave Cage Steele a thorough once over.

She wasn’t afraid of him though she should be. He was six-foot-three of muscle, and a demon—a raven hair, green-eyed monster—who should be her enemy. But he was special. Cage was her friend, her boss, and her savior, not particularly in that order.

Ignoring his thinned lips and narrowed eyes, she pointed to her ruined ride. Any closer to the gas tank and she would’ve exploded, taking you and me with her. His face relaxed, but she didn’t care for the smirk.

Why are all your motorcycles female?

Echo shrugged and kept her finger pointed at the wreck.

Okay. He sighed and hung his head. I’ll buy you a new ride.

She beamed and when he glanced up, a sly smile crossed his face, which meant one thing—a bear hug. Skittering back, she stuck her arm out. Don’t come any closer.

He skulked after her. You rarely smile, and I haven’t seen you in weeks.

Before she could hurl a smartass comment in his direction, he rushed her, snatched her by the waist, and lifted until they were eye to eye. God, Echo, you need to eat more.

The danger and mischief in the depths of his eyes could inspire any woman to fall hard for him. Cage was a great catch. Too bad there wasn’t any sparks between them, despite the way they teased one another.

You know the rules about touching me. She gave him her fiercest glare.

I’ll risk it.

After setting her on her feet, he tugged her gloves off and stuffed them in the pockets of her jacket.

You go too long without physical contact. It’s not healthy. He intertwined their fingers. Business waits for us in the bedroom.

Echo fanned her face. Wow, what a proposition. I’m ready to faint at your feet.

Laughter rumbled from him and she ducked her head, smiling. She loved when Cage laughed.

His happiness took her back to carefree days of getaways to sunny places. Now, three years after the global attack that had robbed him of his brothers and his parents, Cage was a different man, and in need of more laughter in his life.

He picked up the pace and dragged her behind him. She attempted to catch up to his long strides.

At one of the few exits along the tunnel, he punched in numbers on the keypad in the wall. A rectangular panel opened, and he leaned forward. A beam of light scanned his retina. The lock clicked. He released his hold and gestured for her to take the stairwell first.

That’s the longest you’ve held my hand, Mr. Steele, she said with awe and irritation.

I can tolerate the pain from your touch. My threshold is higher than most. And we’ve been together long enough my body is familiar with your energy.

She started up the stairwell, agreeing with his dead-on observation, however, I still don’t like that I hurt you.

You think I’m okay with your reliance on the tunnels for your fix of emotions? It’s not right, normal, or long-lasting.

With her back to him, she stomped up the stairs. Cage might’ve said the words out of frustration and concern, but of all people, Cage should understand her curse.

Their fathers were the enemy. Lucky for Cage, his demon father loved his hunter mother. Her parents? She was conceived from rape and cursed by her mother’s gods when her mother had died giving birth to Echo. Echo’s touch inflicted pain. She’d never be right or normal.

You might not approve of my situation but I’m fine with things as is. She wasn’t. She’d grown tired of the status quo.

Someday, she would love to travel in the open without the overhanging fear of being hunted and killed by her mother’s kind for who her father is. However, she would never admit her dreams to Cage. Otherwise, he’d insist on making them come true. She couldn’t stand the thought of him doing that for her. She should have the courage to make change happen.

What we have borders on brilliance. He gave her a job and shelter. She provided him with financial intelligence she heard underground. I can live like this for a long time. Who was she trying to convince?

We’ll see.

Without saying anymore, Cage stormed over to the panel on the wall next to the elevator doors and went through another round of codes and retina scan. The elevator doors opened.

We’ll see? She followed him inside the elevator and leaned against the side farthest from him. He said those two words to her more often, and Echo didn’t like it. ‘We’ll see’ was a maybe, and in her uncertain world, she preferred certainty.

How’s Princess Raine?

Small talk isn’t your thing, Echo. He crossed his arms.

But I care. She mirrored his stance. Did she get her happily ever after?

Do I hear a hint of envy in your words?

She blew out a breath at Cage’s annoying habit of calling her out.

I happen to enjoy a good love story, and you’re depriving me of one. She sulked.

Soon the elevator doors would open and Cage would be all business. He must’ve realized she needed a dose of happy news in her life. Cage gave her a quick rundown of what happened with the princess.

And the happily ever after?

She’s with the ones who matter, her family.

Thank you.

On the twentieth floor, the elevator doors opened. Ignoring the large abstract painting slipping into place and concealing the elevator shaft, Echo rushed to the wall of windows in Cage’s huge apartment and gave the city and water view an air hug.

Closing her eyes, she lifted her face to the sun and honed in on the noises below her. The city thrummed with the excitement of a big celebration—the Fourth of July.

It’s been several weeks since she was above ground, but below ground, the excitement in people’s voices energized her.

The bedroom. Cage whispered in her ear. That’s where I want you.

Echo opened her eyes and stared at Cage’s reflection in the glass. You drop innuendos like a desperate man would bad pick-up lines.

Only you get the brunt of them. They’re that bad.

Agreeing, she followed him to the bedroom. It was a ritual of theirs; the bedroom is the priority destination before a meeting. Cage handed her a garment bag. Echo hesitated.

I rode straight from San Diego with a breather in Portland. I hurt, Cage. She loosened the backpack from her shoulders. Can we skip the suit this one time? She set her backpack and motorcycle helmet on the bed.

You know the rules. The suit goes on for your safety.

But you can disregard my rule about touching me?

That’s different.

How so? Dammit, she wanted to win this conversation. When he responded to her with a scathing glare, her resolve slipped a notch, and she wasn’t proud of it.

Keeping your identity concealed is a matter of life and death, and that is the difference.

I’m not the same thirteen-year-old girl my father gave away, Cage. The experiments changed me.

He grasped her chin and tilted her face upward until their eyes met. By day, you are your mother’s child. Too bad the night can’t strip you of your father’s sins. Your life would be less complicated.

He was right. During the day, Echo was a brunette with brown eyes. At night, her hair changed to white, and her eyes were a royal blue rimmed by gold, her father’s will dictating that she accept who she was, a monster born to kill humans and demon hunters, his blood continuing to reverse the effects of Deacon’s experiments.

When your father is dead and the memory of you fades from his demons’ and hunters’ minds, you’ll be free from his sins. And with time, hunters will accept us half breeds as more than the monsters they judge us to be. We’ll live up to our mothers’ bloodlines and be the better species. Patience, little fleur. That’s all I ask for.

Little fleur. A memory of him peeking in the entrance of a sewer pipe flashed in her mind. He cajoled her, reached out to her, and shivering, hungry and scared, Echo refused his bait of food and help until... until he called her his little flower.

Though she wasn’t a child but a sixteen-year-old teenager, she’d crawled on her hands and knees toward him. When he picked her up as though she weighed nothing and said, You’re safe, with fierce determination on his face, she believed him. They’ve been together ever since.

Warmth spread in her chest, and her throat tightened. He’d shown her nothing