Page 21 of Hell’s Half Acre

“Most likely?” she repeated sarcastically.

He looked adorably sheepish.

“So it won’t kill them? Why should we risk the captain’s wrath?”

Luke scratched at his cheek. “Honestly, don’t know. It might kill them. Might also piss them off to no uncertain end. I’ve never shot one of them. I find that hellfire works remarkably best on every creature I’ve ever fought.”

“Even your father?”

“Never fought him. While I have more stupidity than most, I draw the line at outright suicide. Trust me, you don’t knock on the devil’s door with impunity. He’s a crabby bastard who wields hellish powers.” Luke popped the magazine out of the Glock, his gaze narrowed.

“What are you doing?”

“You gave me an idea.” He cupped the magazine in his hand for a moment. Suddenly, the bullets glowed as if they were on fire. Sparks danced around them.

Squeaking in fear, Sorcha quickly ran to the other side of the room in case the fire set them off. “Luke! Stop!”

With an innocent expression, he met her gaze as the bullets turned dark again. “What?”

Her heart pounding, she slowly walked back to where he was. Sure enough, the bullets in the magazine appeared normal. “What did you do?”

He returned the magazine to the gun and pulled the slide back to chamber a bullet. “Hellfire bullets. Shoot this and it will stop them now and probably anything else we come up against. Try not to shoot an innocent person.”

“Or you?” Sorcha challenged.

He let out a low, evil laugh. “That would wreck my day and probably your career. Shooting partners, especially one as sexy as I am, is bad for the resume.” He winked.

“Lesson learned.” She pressed her lips together and took the Glock from him and tucked it into the cushion of the chair, barrel down. “Thank you.”

“Don’t be thanking me yet. I have a feeling I’m about to piss you off.” He glanced up at her through his lashes, looking not at all sorry for what he was about to say.

“How so?”

“You need to stay here tonight. I think it’s a bad idea for you to go home alone, even with those bullets.”

While she appreciated the thought, she knew that was a profoundly bad idea. “Luke⁠—”

His expression turned serious. “Sorcha, this isn’t a discussion. You need to stay here.”

Helly agreed with him. “He’s right. Necos aren’t something to be ignored. If you run, they catch. It’s like trying to outrun a cheetah.”

Well, that sounded perfectly dreadful.

And that gave her an all-new worry. “What if they come here?”

Luke laughed. “Let them. I could use the protein. They’re better than chicken.” He set her glass on the counter and refilled it.

Which reminded her of what she’d seen when he’d saved her. “You have fangs.”

“Not all the time,” he said defensively.

She arched a brow. “You never told me this before.”

“You never asked.” He ran a tongue over his perfectly straight, perfectly normal teeth, bringing the cup back to his lips. “Even hellhounds have long canines.”

How would she know to ask that? Times like this, she wanted to choke him. “Any other surprises I should know about? Forked tail? Warts?”

“No. And I usually only have fangs in my canine form.” He shrugged again, that single lift of his shoulder that was both infuriating and sexy.