Lethal Blow: (Succubus Hitwoman Book 2)

by Eliza Hendrix

  The fire’s glow shines off of it, making it look like an icicle on a sunny winter day.

  I know that necklace. It’s a clear quartz pendant held together by a hemp rope. While it might sound generic, it isn’t. The hemp rope is encrusted with pieces of black tourmaline—something only a witch would wear. And I’ve seen a necklace like this just once before.

  Now, it all makes sense.

  “I’ve been waiting a long time for you, Alexis.”

  * * *

  “Give it back!” I shouted.

  My little brother William giggled and pulled my doll away. He had his own toys. Why was he touching mine? Alice was all I had left to remind me of my real parents. As far as I know, Alice was wrapped up with me in a cotton sheet when Papa found me at the edge of the forest.

  With a thudding heart, I bared my teeth. “Give it back, now!”

  A grin stretched over his face, but before another laugh could come blasting out, something happened. I wasn’t quite sure what it was at first. All I knew was that William looked petrified.

  Quickly, Papa cleared his throat and scooped my young brother into his arms. As my father rushed him out of the room, William dropped my doll, his wide-open eyes never leaving mine.

  “What’s going on?” came my mother’s voice.

  The moment she stepped into the room, she sucked in a sharp breath and slapped both hands over her mouth.

  Papa came rushing back in without William.

  “Never you mind, love,” he said, wrapping his arms around my mother.

  With parted lips, she tried to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, she stared at me as if I were some ghost haunting their home.

  “We spoke about this,” he reassured her. “Do you remember?”

  With hands still flat over her mouth, she nodded quickly.

  Papa kissed her cheek, rubbed her shoulder, and turned to me. Kneeling on one knee, he picked up Alice and held her flat in his palm.

  “Do you remember what we spoke of, my sweeting?” he asked me, his voice calm and soothing.

  I shook my head.

  “This has to be our little secret,” he said.

  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about until his eyes rolled up toward the ceiling and around my body. I followed his gaze to find large bat-like wings extended on either side of me.

  I flinched, causing the wings to move along with me, which made me panic more.

  “Do not be afraid, child,” he said, his warm grasp around my shoulders. “Nothing is wrong with you.”

  My lower lip trembled. Nothing wrong with me? Something was terribly wrong with me. Why did I have these ugly black wings?

  Smiling sweetly, he reached toward the top of my head and touched something. I couldn’t tell what it was until I followed his hand and felt a sharp poke.

  “You are a special creature,” he said. “You have beautiful wings and beautiful horns.”

  He thought they were beautiful?

  How? Every day, people in the village talked about how disgusting horned creatures were, along with fanged creatures, whatever that meant.

  “The people of this village do not understand you, my dear Emily. You mustn’t reveal yourself to anyone. Do you understand?”

  I nodded quickly, though I wasn’t sure how I was going to hide something like this from everyone in the village. What if this happened again? What if I accidentally let my wings come out?

  “This doll,” Papa said, reaching into his pocket, “was given to you to protect you.” He pulled out his favorite carving knife and held its blade on Alice’s left hand.

  “What are you doing, Papa?” I shouted.

  Without saying a word, he raised a solid hand, which was enough to silence me. Then, digging his blade into Alice’s hand, he sliced off a small piece of wood.

  I wanted to cry. How could he hurt her like that? But before I burst into tears, he reached for his boot and pulled out its suede lace.

  What was he doing?

  “This wood, my sweeting, was taken from the Enchanted Forest. Do you see these green markings?”

  I nodded.

  Wrapping the small piece of wood inside the suede lace, he smiled up at me. “It might not always be possible for you to keep this doll on you. May I?”

  With a trembling lip, I extended my little arm, allowing him to fasten the bracelet around my wrist.

  He’d wrapped the suede around the wood so many times I couldn’t see it at all.

  “Men have died trying to obtain this wood to build indestructible weapons,” he said. “It is important we keep it hidden. As for your doll—you may keep her, but only inside our home. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “Whenever you are angry or frightened,” he said, “I want you to place your hand over your bracelet and count to three.”

  Closing my eyes, I wrapped my cold fingers around my new bracelet and counted to three. Although I couldn’t see my wings disappear, I felt it.

  Smiling lovingly at me, Papa rubbed my cheek and kissed my forehead. As he got up, my mother turned away. Although I couldn’t make out what they were saying, I knew it had something to do with my mother being afraid for our lives. She kept arguing, while my father did his best to reassure her that no matter what I was, we’d make it work.

  I picked up my injured Alice and held her close to my heart. “You are well,” I said, brushing her straw hair back.

  The second I looked up, my heart nearly stopped.

  Right behind our meat-roasting pit was a woman standing in the shadows, the hood of her long green cloak making it almost impossible to see her face. Around her neck was a clear quartz pendant held together by hemp rope. On this rope were little black bits. At first, I thought these to be pieces of dirt or oil stains, but every few seconds, one of them sparkled.

  The woman smiled at me—a smile that made me want to run up and hug her.

  Then, I noticed her left hand. While there may not have been any blood, there were no fingers, either.

  I glanced down at my doll, whose hand matched this woman’s.

  How was this even possible?

  When I looked up again, however, she was gone.

  Chapter 13

  ──────────

  “You’re my fucking doll,” I blurt.

  I don’t mean to be so rude about it, but I can’t contain my surprise. This whole time, my protection has been some woman following me. What is she? Some illusion? Is she even real? I’m tempted to reach for her wrinkled face, but that would elevate my level of rudeness.

  She offers a plain smile—one that says, There’s a lot more to this than you know, but I don’t have the time to explain it.

  “You had better hurry, Alexis,” she says. “Your time within the Hall of Hallows is limited.”

  Again with the lack of clear instructions. Why didn’t Peter tell me this? If this is what the guy does for a living, he needs to find a new job.

  Instead of arguing with her, I shove Alice—the doll, not the real-life version—into my pocket and the old woman disappears instantly.

  Clenching my teeth, I close my eyes and throw myself into the flames.

  At first, the heat reminds me of my village all those years ago. It’s hot—sizzling hot—but it doesn’t seem to hurt. At least not physically. What pains me the most is the memory of watching everything burn to the ground.

  Suddenly, I remember seeing Alice all those years ago. As I ran from the fire, she stood at the edge of the forest, the hood of her green cloak masking her face entirely. I remember trying to run toward her, but no matter how fast I ran, I couldn’t reach her.

  Had she been the one to guide me to safety?

  I’m dying to know more about this woman, but first, I have to deal with finding Devania.

  The heat surrounding me disappears as fast as it came and I find myself standing in the same forest I walked through earlier.

  For real?

  Did the fire sen
d me back a step?

  While everything might look the same, something’s different. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it doesn’t feel like I’m standing in the same forest.

  “You must be Alexis,” comes a woman’s voice.

  I flinch at the sound of my name and turn around. What’s up with people always appearing behind me? Is it so goddamn difficult to appear in front of me?

  The woman smiles the moment I make eye contact with her.

  I don’t bother asking her how she knows my name. It feels like everyone knows my name these days, and not for reasons I’d like them to.

  She appears to be my age, maybe a little older. And by my age, I mean the age I appear to be—around the thirty-year-old mark.

  I’m afraid to imagine what anyone would look like at a thousand years old. A walking skeleton, maybe. I smile at the thought, but when I realize she’s staring me cold in the face, I tighten my lips.

  From the top of her head extending down around her shoulders is a long red cloak with a golden strip decorating its edges. The cloak floats over her shoulders as if sitting on two thick pads underneath, giving off a royalty vibe.

  What is she, exactly? She isn’t pale—at least not vampire pale. She’s stunning in every sense of the word with golden eyes so fierce they almost look orange, long auburn hair that disappears into her cloak, and full red lips to match. She reminds me of Little Red Riding Hood—someone I hope to never meet. Anyone who isn’t a feeble knows she’s the wolf, and a conniving, dangerous one at that.

  I breathe in, trying to catch a hint of her scent.

  Pumpkin spice mixed with candle wax. I know that smell. She’s a Ukrisse demon, also known as a Morpher. So now the question is, who is she really? And is she even a she? This demon could be anyone or anything.

  “You must be wondering who I am,” she says.

  No shit, Batman.

  “May I ask who you’re looking for?” she asks.

  There’s a calmness to her that makes it impossible for me to stay angry. I’m tired, hungry—in more ways than one—and craving alcohol more than oxygen.

  “I’m looking for the Black Widow,” I say.

  She elevates her chin, almost inquisitively.

  Okay, so this lady’s interested in what I have to say. Maybe I’m reaching the end of this dumbass trial at last. Why isn’t she responding? Is there another secret code I’m supposed to know about?

  “I was sent by Veerka,” I add.

  Her eyes widen slightly, which tells me she knows who Veerka is.

  “Your friend is in danger,” she says.

  “Veerka?” I say, clenching my fists. “What kind of danger?”

  “Not Veerka,” she says. “The witch.”

  Rachel? Is that who she’s talking about? First of all, we aren’t friends. But what’s she talking about? What’s going on with Rachel? My mouth goes dry and I take a step forward.

  “What do you mean, she’s in danger?”

  “The Zerachu you met isn’t who she says she is.”

  You have got to be kidding me.

  Is this some sick kind of joke? Like I already don’t have enough on my plate?

  I part my lips to make a snarky comment when half her figure flickers as if on the verge of disappearing entirely.

  “We’re running out of time,” she says. “Here, take this.”

  With her arm straight out, she takes a step forward. I meet her halfway and open my palm. When she loosens her grasp, a silver ring with a finely carved red ruby falls out.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “It’s a communication device,” she says. “It’s also how other members of the Battalion will recognize you.”

  What’s she talking about? I slide my thumb across the ring’s shiny, squared-off surface and raise it to my eye. It doesn’t look like it has any sort of camera or microphone in it. And I would know—that’s been my job for years. Have they gotten that good at concealing surveillance cameras since I last purchased my equipment?

  “It’s magic,” she says plainly.

  Now I feel like an idiot. Of course, it’s magic.

  “Who’s the Battalion?” I ask.

  “We are,” she says.

  And then it hits me.

  “You’re Devania,” I say.

  She offers a hint of a smile—a look that says, You’re correct, but don’t get too excited yet.

  Half of her silhouette flickers again, and this time, her left arm disappears entirely.

  “What do I do with this?” I ask, slipping the Battalion ring onto my middle index finger.

  She said something about people of the Battalion being able to recognize me, so I assume the ring’s got some sort of magical properties that allow it to become visible to those wearing a similar ring.

  “If you need to speak with me, press your thumb over the ruby and call out my name three times. I will only appear if you truly need me.”

  It’s like I’m in some twisted version of The Wizard of Oz. Then again, it shouldn’t surprise me. The number three is meaningful in the world of magic.

  “Anyone wearing one belongs to the Battalion,” she continues. “They are your allies. And whatever you do—don’t lose the thing. It possesses magic powerful enough to destroy an entire city.”

  It’s hard to imagine that a rebellion group leader would allow so many people to wear something this powerful. Then again, it’s obvious by the whole trial thing that they don’t want to let anyone into the group.

  I guess I’m not so bad after all.

  “These rings were forged from the same metals as the Heart of Danu,” she says.

  Why does that sound so familiar? The Heart of Danu? Oh, shit. That’s the talisman Rachel was looking for—the one I found hidden in plain sight in the garden of one of my marks, Adam Shaw. I spent so many days binge drinking afterward that I almost forgot about it. Rachel wanted that thing, and I’d promised her I’d give it to her if she helped me find Veerka, which she did.

  Devania’s talking about it like it’s one of the most powerful items in the world. For something to be forged of the same metal? Like it’s sacred, or something.

  Is the talisman that powerful? Did I fuck up again by handing it over to a kid?

  “Yeah, about that—” I say.

  She flickers again, and this time, the corner of her lip and chin becomes invisible.

  “Hurry, Alexis. Your friend needs you.”

  “What about Veerka? And Lucius and the rest of the vampires? That’s why she sent me here.”

  I don’t mean to come across as desperate, but the chick’s about to disappear and there’s no telling when I’ll get to talk to her again. She said I could touch the ring to call for her, but even then, she made it sound like it’s an emergency-only type of thing.

  “Everything is connected, Alexis.” She turns her partial head sideways as if someone is moving toward her. With wide eyes, she looks at me again. “That’s all I can tell you right now. Go! Hurry!”

  Chapter 14

  ──────────

  The next thing I know, I’m standing inside the staff room Peter the Ratiken led me through earlier. This time, however, something’s different. Although I know I was standing here before entering the trial, it doesn’t quite feel the same.

  Goddamn it.

  Did Devania somehow send me through to another dimension? A different version of our world? It wouldn’t be the first time this happened.

  Where’s Peter? Where is everyone? My heartbeat quickens, and I rush out of the staff room.

  The second I step out into the Red Lounge, my stomach sinks.

  Where is everyone? The entire casino is empty. Slot machines are silent, poker tables vacant, and the air around me is colder than usual. It’s so quiet I can hear my breath. That and the air coming from the ventilation system.

  What the fuck happened? Is this what Devania was talking about? Wasting no time, I run as fast as I can to the elevator an
d press the button.

  It dings, the sound echoing loudly as if being emitted through a speakerphone.

  The ride up feels like it’ll never end. I’m freaking out inside. How could everything have changed so much within a few hours?

  The second I reach the twenty-sixth floor, I swipe my card through my hotel room’s card slot and wait for the signal to turn green.

  Nothing happens. Why isn’t it opening? I swipe it again. Nothing.

  “Hello?” I shout, now blasting my fist against the door.

  Something’s wrong.

  Gripping the handle, I nudge my shoulder into the door and it bursts open.

  Thank the goddesses for my super strength.

  When I step foot inside my hotel room, I’m not surprised to find it empty. Where is everyone? Something happened. I’m not sure what it is yet, but I intend to find out.

  In the lounge area are my empty beer bottles, which means no one has come by to clean up. If that’s the case, then whatever happened must have happened soon after I went into the Hall of Hallows, and it must have affected the entire Dark Hall.

  Here’s what I’d like to know: how long was I actually in there?

  Did time mess up? That tends to happen when traveling through dimensions or toying with reality. Did I even leave the Hall of Hollows? Am I still there now?

  Time.

  That’s what I need to find.

  Rushing across the room, I make my way over to the hotel room’s telephone. It looks more like a display unit than anything with its wide screen, small speaker, and sleek white design.

  At the corner of the screen is a time and date stamp:

  3:03 a.m., April 17

  What the fuck? It was the eleventh yesterday. This thing has got to be busted. No way has that much time passed without Rachel trying to find me through one of her portals.

  I’m tempted to rub my Battalion ring, but I have a hunch Devania won’t be in the mood to see me so soon. Besides, for all I know, this is another test.

  I’m about to head over to the fridge to ease my soul with a nice cold beer when a small slip of paper catches my eye. It looks like a tattered sticky note left for a month in someone’s back pocket.