Copyright © Amy Armstrong 2014. All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing. “Well?” Roland stared at me expectantly, his brown, overly bushy eyebrows raised high in query. “Do you think you’re up to this?” I tried not to glare at him but failed miserably. Just because at five foot five I was a lot shorter than the other hunters, with bouncy blonde curls and a petite frame, I often got treated like I was weaker than them—fragile even. It had been the same way my entire life and I was tired of it. I was just as capable if not more so than the majority of the hunters I’d trained with, both women and men. I worked damn hard to make sure I was always in shape and that my skills were honed to perfection. I’d killed a lot of vampires and there was nothing I detested more than people like Roland—my new handler at the Hunters’ Council—underestimating me. Just like my parents before me and their parents before them, I’d been born a slayer. It was in my blood. I hadn’t chosen my profession on a whim and I resented Roland’s question. Why wouldn’t I be up to the task? It was my job. I did it every single day without fail, and I excelled at it. “Just give me the details,” I said through gritted teeth, amazed I’d refrained from calling him an asshole. Roland chewed on his bottom lip as he studied me. He must have seen something in my expression that swayed him because he sighed heavily then nodded his head. “Fair enough. Though I do need to warn you, this job is…unusual.” I drew my eyebrows together while I waited for Roland to elaborate, but when he wasn’t forthcoming, I asked, “Unusual how, exactly?” As a slayer, it was my job to kill vampires and the odd werewolf who had gone rogue. We rarely got involved in issues with any other supernatural species, however, so Roland’s statement intrigued me. “Well, there’s this angel,” he began, averting his gaze from mine. “And this demon…” “Oh, hell no!” I started backing away from his desk as though there was something on it that could bite me. “No way.” I might have been great at my job, but demons were an entirely different kettle of fish. I’d heard that they could kill you with just a look. In my experience angels weren’t much more accommodating. If this job involved either, then Roland might very well have been right—maybe I wasn’t up to this task. It was only when Roland’s gaze met mine, his expression challenging, that I realised he’d tricked me. We’d only worked together for a short time, but he was well aware how much I hated people thinking I wasn’t capable, that I couldn’t do the job as well as the other hunters who were bigger and stronger than me. He’d used that fact to his advantage and I was impressed. My face broke out into a wide grin. “You sneaky son of a bitch!” Roland puffed out his chest like a damn peacock. “Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment. So, about this demon issue…” “Fine,” I muttered begrudgingly. “But if I die on this job, I’m coming back to haunt your ass. Count on it.” Roland turned his back to stare out of the only window in his small office at Council headquarters, but not before I noticed a slow smile spreading across his lips. “You know, I always figured you for a glass-half-full kind of gal.” I pointed to the back of his head and threw in a glare for good measure. “Roland? Don’t push your luck.” * * * * Standing outside the ranch-style house, I knocked on the door then took in my surroundings as I waited for an answer. Roland had put me in touch with Raven, an old colleague of mine, and when I’d spoken to her on the phone earlier, she’d told me to meet her here. I hadn’t seen her in years so I had no idea what she could be doing in a place like this. It was a nice home in a...