Demon Huntress

Ming jie's own anger flared bright and hot as he rounded on the cause of the tension between them.

"You came here to lead your Berus colleagues to my hospital."

"Yes."

The betrayal streaked through him, and he had no idea why. They were enemies. He'd expected something like this. But for some reason, the knowledge that she'd wanted to destroy what he'd worked so hard for tore at him.

"I don't need to ask why. That you hate us is obvious—"

"I don't hate you," she said hoarsely. Her gaze cut to him, full of misery, slicing him like a scalpel. "God help me, I don't hate you."

Shock made him take a step back. "You're lying."

"No. If I hated you, I'd have let that bomb go off in the hospital instead of the parking lot."

He laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "You were saving your own skin."

"I suppose I'd think the same thing." She studied the floor. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Yes," he said, angry again. "The Berus didn't destroy my hospital, but it did take out a few staff members. Do you realize, little killer, that your own colleagues set you up to die as well?"

A ragged sob shook her. The tears she'd been holding back fell. "I was a sacrifice. For the greater good—

"

"For the greater good?" Ming jie saw red. Blood red. He closed the distance between them in a single stride and seized her shoulders, fought the urge to shake her until her teeth rattled. "Do you honestly believe that?"

She looked up at him, the pain in her gaze turning her eyes into a murky mire. "I have to."

"Why?"

"Because if I wasn't a great sacrifice, then I was nothing to them." She blinked, and a tear ran down her blotchy cheek. "They're all I have. If I'm disposable . . ."

Ah, damn. The anger leaked out of him as if he'd been shot full of holes. He was a freaking emotional sieve. Before he could think better of it, he pulled her against him, held her while she sobbed into his c.h.e.s.t.

This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to snarl and strike and draw blood for what she'd done. Cuddling her, pressing his lips to the top of her head, rubbing her finely muscled back . . . yeah, bad f**king idea.

It certainly wasn't supposed to feel this good. Nothing felt this good, not anything that happened while fully clothed, anyway.

Her hard body, soft in the right places, tucked against his in a perfect fit, and the way he stood between her legs as she sat on the edge of the desk made him remember that they could fit together even better. His c.o.c.k stirred at the thought, and gods, he needed to get his head on straight.

"Cang jie," she said, her voice trembling as violently as her hands on his shoulders, "was he a doctor?"

"Yeah. A good one." A shudder wracked her body, and even though he shouldn't, he felt the need to alleviate her guilt a little. "He was also a hyena shapeshifter and a cruel asshole."

"Still, what they did to him . . ."

He'd probably deserved. Ming jie didn't voice that, though. He'd lost a talented surgeon, and replacing him wouldn't be easy.

A noise outside his office drew his attention away from Shu lan, and what he saw through the window made him curse.

"I really hope that guy isn't a doctor," she said, drawing back to watch yuan, swaying like a sapling in the wind, in the outer office. He stumbled forward a few steps, and then fell back against the wall.

"F.u.c.k.i.n.g perfect," Ming jie muttered. "Stay here."

He threw open the door and crossed to yuan in four strides.

"Hey, bro."

Ming jie seized his brother by the throat and lifted him off the ground. "You idiot. Secor des unez!"

yuan laughed, flashing fangs. "Oooh, the language of Justice. Big Ming is pissed."

"I told you to lay off the humans."

"Yeah, and I'm pretty f**king sick of the reruns, man."

With a roar, Ming jie heaved yuan across the room. His brother hit the floor and rolled into the wall. Before he could sit up, Ming jie was on top of him, slamming his head into the carpet.

"Ming!" Chen's hands closed on his shoulders. "Ming jie. Let him up."

"He's high."

"Yeah, I know."

"Screw that," yuan slurred. "I ate that junkie fair and square."

Still straddling his brother, Ming jie ground his molars until they hurt. "Did you kill him? Is the junkie dead?"

"Dunno."

Chen knelt, scrubbed a hand over his face. "Any witnesses?"

"Don't give a shit."

"yuan—"