A Demon's Love Story

Chapter 3

Jev POV

I drove a fist into the guy that whistled at Valora. That person just so happened to be Markus, my best friend. He fell to the ground clutching his bloody nose. A wolf howl stopped me from hitting him again. My father appeared next to me naked and angry.

"Stop what you are doing this instant!" he demanded impatiently. "We have more to be doing than fighting amongst ourselves."

Instantly I stopped and instead held out my hand to help Markus up. It was a bad enough I think my mate is a hired assassin that seems to not have the same feelings toward me.

"What was that all about man?" Markus asked holding his nose.

"Sorry I don't know what came over me," I responded lieing.

"Forget about that right now. What is that girl's address?" my father asked.

I looked down at my hand and still felt the tingles from where she touched and wrote on my hand.

"She's staying at Duree de Veille Hotel."

"Hey, I saw that place on the way here. It's about five miles from here, I can show you all the way," Markus proposed.

"Yes, that would be good," my father said.

"I'll come too," I say. "She felt more comfortable talking to me. I should go."

"Good idea. Daniell, you stay and watch over everyone," my father said pointing at his third in command. "Let's go."

"Wait dad. I think it would be better if you could find some clothes. It might scare her off if she saw an old guy's..." I didn't need to finish the sentence.

Everyone had to contain a straight face when my dad glared daggers at me before smiling himself.

"That is probably a smart idea."

He shifted back into a wolf and ran off before coming back in human form a few minutes later wearing a pair of pants and a loose cotton shirt.

"Now I'm ready."

Together we made our way to Duree de Veille with Markus leading the way. By the time we arrived the sun was peeking out of the mass of clouds making the sky a light purple-orange color. I looked at the grand hotel and saw how lovely it really is. A beautiful place for a beautiful girl, I thought to myself. Above the large automatic doors, the words Duree de Veille stood out. Sleep Time Hotel, how subtle.

"What all did she write on your hand?" my father asked.

I looked down at my hand and saw sweat had almost wiped it clean but I was able to make out a few words. "Room 389, ask clerk person." I looked over at my dad and shrugged. "I guess we just ask the guy at the desk."

When we went in, the clerk immediately stiffened at the sight of us and avoided contact. We walked up to the guy, he was about middle aged, average looks and hair that was already thinning.

"Bonjour, messieurs. Comment puis-je vous aider (How may I help you)?" he asked in French.

The bad thing about tracing this girl down in France was no one spoke good French.

"C'est Pier amende (It's fine Pier). Ils viennent juste avec moi (They'll just come with me)."

We all looked over to see Valora walking towards us. She had changed her clothes and was wearing a pair of jeans this time, a red flannel shirt, and a pair of black pointed cowboy boots. She looked beautiful, like she belonged in a picture with a landscape of fresh green grass and a chestnut horse standing beside her.

"Now what can I do you for?" her southern country accent stood out along with her clothes in this French hotel.

"We'd like the chance to talk," I said before anyone else.

"Okay, follow me and we can talk in my room," she turned and started walking.

We all hurried to match her fast steps. When we made it to the elevator, she made sure to be in the back and all the way up I could feel her gaze sizing us up and searching for any concealed weapons. It didn't help that the elevator music was a women screeching French nonsense. But through the whole way there an intoxicating smell hit my nose making me want to turn and pull Valora into an tight kiss. It was the smell of every scent I ever liked mixed together deliciously. The scent of lavender and an open field really called to me. A slight squeal of metal getting crunched filled the elevator but everyone stayed facing the door. Finally when the ride was over, the elevator stopped on the top floor and we all hurried out. When Valora was back in front of us leading us to her room, I sneaked a look behind at the elevator to see that the bar along the back wall had a dent in it where it looked like someone squeezed it tightly enough to bend. That must have been the crunching metal sound. What made Valora do that?

Once inside Valora's room, her scent filled my nose up almost knocking me to my knees. She's been here awhile.

"So what did y'all want to talk about?" she asked plopping down on a plush chair in the small living room. Markus and I took a seat on the couch next to her chair and my father sat down on the other chair. My father looked at me, waiting for me to start.

"Oh, well at our home territory, there is a certain something that lurks near by. And it has been terrorizing our pack. We are not sure what it is, we just know you are the one for the job," I said.

"So what kind of terrorizing are we talking about? Killing? Kidnapping? Eating?" she asked like she was concerned but her face stayed expressionless.

"All of the above. So what do you propose it is?" my father asked in turn.

Valora pursed her lips and asked, "What country does your pack live in? And what is the environment like over there?"

"We live in Romania. It's just mainly cold weather."

"Could it by chance be a Balaur, or a Capcaun?"

"How do you know about Romanian myths?" demanded Markus.

"I grew up in Hell, I know my monsters. And they aren't myths," she snapped defensively.

"I think you make a great point about Balaur and Capcaun but they are just myths. No one has seen one in hundreds of years. How is one all of a sudden in my part of Romania?" my father asked.

"Many people haven't seen a werewolf in a hundred years and yet here you are in Paris, France, talking to an Assassin of Hell. Who would believe it?" she pointed out. She stood up and walked over to the small bar in the kitchen area. She went behind the counter and came up with a bottle of whiskey and offered us some. Markus and I declined while my father took it. She poured him a big glass before taking a drink straight from the bottle.

When she came back, she handed my father his glass before plopping back down. It was hard to believe this little lady liked whiskey. She didn't even look old enough to go in a R-rated movie, let alone drink.

"You know it ain't polite to stare," her silky voice interrupted my thoughts.

"How old are you?" I asked without thinking.

"That's none of your business," she took a swig from her bottle not looking  that angry.

"Your my mate I would like to know these things."

Her gaze fixated on me. This was the first time I actually looked her in the eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. They were a peculiar eye color, one I have never seen before. They were a dark blue-grayish color with a strange light brown color circulating the iris. As her eyes looked at me, I could see the light brown swirling around making interesting patterns.

"What?" everyone asked at the same time looking at me. Oops, I had wanted to keep that part to myself until I was absolutely sure. But having said it outloud I knew it was true.

Inside my wolf was howling one word: Mate!

"Valora Shadows," I started. "I think you're my mate."