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I reached into my pocket for my lighter, sighing as I lit my last smoke with it. I inhaled, thankful for the toxic smell removing some of the feral odor from the writhing ghoul.

It was my favorite lighter. I didn’t want to lose it, so I took the riskier option. The graveyard was not far out of town, and there were a few houses within half a mile. But it was the middle of the night, making the chances I’d be heard unlikely.

The shots echoed off the trees as the ghoul stopped shrieking and wriggling with two silver bullets in its skull.

Sweet. I got to keep my lighter.

I frowned at it as I exhaled, taking in the features of the corpse. It was impossible to say how old it was or determine much beyond the fact that it was a woman with questionable fashion sense if the dress was anything to go by.

Why had the ghoul possessed her? Ghouls started off as demonic spirits, drawn to those who had violent deaths. They normally inhabited unburied bodies as they could use them for longer before they started falling apart.

By the look of the dirt caking the dress and her fingers, she had been buried. Somewhere, if not in this graveyard. Just as I began to look for a disturbed grave, Dante’s voice sounded from behind me.

“That was impressive.”

I turned, breathing heavily. He was leaning against a headstone, ankles crossed like he didn’t have a care in the world. Strands of his dark hair fell over an eyebrow as his gaze swept over me. I told myself the tingles I felt were only because I was wearing inappropriate clothing for the chilly night—boxer shorts, a band tee, cowboy boots, and my leather jacket.

“You didn’t think to, I don’t know, give me a hand?” I scowled at him.

He pushed off the headstone, walking directly over a grave. Not surprising—he was a dick to the living; why have respect for the dead?

“You were quite capable. And the last time I saved your life you almost popped my eardrum, if you’ll remember.” He leaned forward to grasp the smoke from my fingers, bringing it to his lips and inhaling deeply.

I watched his lips purse, chest rise and fallt, the plume of smoke billowing from his mouth. The familiarity with which he was acting, the intimacy that he thought belonged between us, was unnerving.

But my body didn’t get that memo; it didn’t feel unnerved at all. It was decidedly turned-on. For me, killing and fucking went hand in hand. More than once, I’d gone straight from the end of a hunt to a bar to some guy’s shitty apartment to have mediocre sex.

Dante didn’t promise mediocre sex. That I knew.

“And you were also lurking somewhere you shouldn’t have been in the middle of the night,” I reminded him, and myself. It occurred to me I hadn’t gotten an answer as to why the fuck he was there in the first place. “Why are you following me in the middle of the night?”

Dante’s overarching presence was infuriating yet … something else too. I told myself that I hated it. But doing this alone for so long, with no one to really talk to—beyond Donny… It was lonely. And fuck, did I feel like a dick admitting that to myself. I must’ve been pathetic if Dante’s cocky presence was somehow comforting. And arousing.

Dante shrugged. “This time I wasn’t actually following you. I was following a lead. Happy accident to find you here and catch a show.” He grinned as he took another drag before handing it back to me.

Though I should’ve thrown the cig away now that it was tainted by his lips, I lifted it up to my own mouth. I told myself it was because I needed it and it was my last one.

“What was your lead?” I phrased it like a question, but my tone dictated a direct demand.

I had already been wondering whether the ghoul was somehow connected to the witch and the wolf. I really needed to search Angela’s house, stat. All I needed was an altar, some demonic bibles, and maybe a sacrifice site or two, then I would have a green light to banish the bitch, who would hopefully then lead me to the wolf.

But if Dante had information that would help bring that process about quicker, I would do almost anything to get that lead.

He tilted his head, regarding me. “So you’ve decided to work with me, then? On the wolf and witch hunt? We did so well with the Black Annis.”

I wanted to snap that it was me who killed the Black Annis, but I was sure he was trying to rile me.

“We can be partners … with benefits.” He encroached on my space, my body buzzing at his nearness. My lips burned with the memory of the kiss I was trying to drive from my mind—to no avail.

“Tell me your lead,” I repeated.

“Kiss me first.” Dante closed the space between us, his voice low and throaty.

My fingernails bit into my palms, tearing at the barely healed blisters, as I struggled against my baser instincts to do just that.

“I’d sooner kiss the decomposing corpse two feet to your left.”

He gave me a devilish smile. “Liar.”