Lethal Blow: (Succubus Hitwoman Book 2)

by Eliza Hendrix

  How did I not see this coming? I’ve had demons approach me to get a taste of my sex, but not like this. It wasn’t the sex she wanted—it was the orgasm. I should have sensed what was going on.

  “Get to the point, Cassidy.”

  She stretches her neck sideways, and that’s when I notice it.

  Her hand.

  Where’s her ring? The only people who should be present in this place are Devania’s people—those she’s vetted through a series of trials to determine their trustworthiness.

  I should know. I had to go through all that shit myself.

  I clench a fist, prepared to pin her to the wall again, but she must know what I’m thinking. At once, she raises her hands, palms out, to her crimson face. “Easy. I’m not a bad guy.”

  “Then where’s your ring?” I say sharply.

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Then uncomplicate it for me.”

  She sighs as if the story she’s about to tell me is too farfetched to believe.

  “There’s a new spell going around,” she says. “It mimics that ring’s magic.” She points at my hand, where my Battalion ring sits. “Basically, the spell lets me in on the meetings. Some people are even replicating the actual ring. If I’d had more time, I might have done that, but I didn’t.”

  I narrow my glare to get her to talk faster.

  “Listen, I’m not here to cause any trouble. I only wanted inside the meeting to find a succubus.”

  I’m not sure what’s throwing me off the most—that Devania’s rings can no longer be trusted as proof of alliance, or that this witch specifically sought out a succubus to cast some outrageous spell.

  She opens her mouth before I can threaten her. “Word has it that these meetings are all about inclusivity. I tried my luck at meeting succubi at the Dark Hall, but then, well, everything went to shit. That’s when I found out about the Battalion.”

  How would she even know about the Battalion?

  Her protruding brows meet in the middle of her forehead. “Why do you look so shocked? Haven’t you noticed what’s going on? There’s chaos everywhere. People are panicking. Whoever’s running this underground thing is a quack if they think their big secret is still a secret. You can’t trust anyone. There will always be traitors.”

  I don’t want to believe her, but deep down, I know she’s right.

  Everything’s gone to shit, and if Zerachu herself can be kidnapped and taken out of the Dark Hall, the bad guys have most definitely found a way to infiltrate Devania’s Battalion.

  “If you knew about the Battalion, why not become a member?”

  “I tried, but it turns out I’m too hung up on my own needs.”

  So, she let the Cerberus maul the girl. For what?

  “Say I believe you,” I retort. “What spell were you trying to cast? What is it you want so badly? Because if you aren’t one of the bad guys, what the hell are you doing chasing after so much power in the middle of a Battalion meeting?”

  She looks away, and I can’t tell if she’s ashamed or heartbroken.

  “I’m trying to cast a resurrection spell,” she mumbles.

  I’m about to slap her across the face, so instead, I bite the tip of my tongue until it hurts.

  “I don’t need to hear your speech,” she says, no doubt sensing my disapproval.

  “Good,” I say. “I’m glad you already know you’re an idiot.”

  “He was my one and only,” she says.

  A lover.

  I should have known.

  Admittedly, I do feel a bit sorry for her. I know what it’s like to get hung up on wanting to bring a loved one back from the dead. I considered it more times than once with Jamal, and with several other people from my past, but everyone knows resurrection spells don’t work. At least not in the way people want them to.

  “It wouldn’t be him,” I say.

  She knows this—that’s why she looks like she’s been caught cheating on an exam.

  “I know,” she finally breathes. Her lower lip trembles, so I grab her by the face.

  “Listen to me,” I say.

  Minutes ago, Cassidy looked like she didn’t give a shit about anything other than getting her lover back. But now, as I stare her cold in the face, it’s obvious she’s terrified and desperate for help.

  “You need to stop chasing after the dead. When your time on Earth is up, you’ll see him again, you hear me?”

  With her cheeks deflated between my fingers, she scoffs. “How would you know anything about the afterlife?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m immortal. Well, my body is. I’ve been thrown out of it more times than I can count, and I can assure you that there’s more to life than this physical bullshit.”

  A glimmer of hope sparkles in her eyes, so I let go of her face.

  “Now, will you stop with the sex magic and live the only mortal life you have?”

  With watery eyes, she nods.

  Would you look at that? I helped someone despite my anger. Surprisingly, it doesn’t feel too bad. Clearing my throat to rid the awkward silence, I stiffen my stance. “Now that I’ve given you something, I want something in return.”

  “Anything,” she says.

  Chapter 24

  ──────────

  Ace looks as pissed off as I was when I caught Cassidy casting a spell midorgasm.

  He watches me from behind the tip of his nose. “Something’s wrong.”

  “What?” I brush my hair over one shoulder—something I always do when I’m lying or trying to cover something up. “What do you mean?”

  Does he know what happened? Is he fishing for information? I’m afraid to tell him what I’ve discovered. Now that I know Battalion rings can be faked, who do I trust? What if Ace is one of the traitors?

  “Where is she?” someone shouts.

  “Maybe they got to her!”

  “Shut your trap!”

  “What’s going on?” I ask him, thankful for the distraction.

  Without looking at me, he says, “Devania should have been here by now.”

  After a prolonged silence, a dwarf shoves his way through the crowd, his pointed elbows jabbing anything that gets in his way. His labored breathing makes it difficult to differentiate the sound of his steps from the air coming out of his mouth.

  “Outta the way,” he grumbles.

  He’s so short he that he blends into the crowd, but as everyone steps aside to let him pass, he comes into view. With dark green wrinkled skin and long pointed ears, there’s no mistaking what he is. I understand why feebles portray dwarves as these hideous creatures. This guy matches the description with the wiry white hairs coming out of his ears and a long hook for a nose. If I were to describe dwarves through comparison, I’d say they were the spawn of an ogre and a goblin—two creatures I’d never want to see fornicating.

  With a loud huff, he pulls himself up onto a chair to be level with everyone else.

  “Attention, everyone,” he says, his rumbly voice carrying over everyone’s heads.

  To my surprise, the crowd stops bickering and listens with anticipation. Why wouldn’t they? Devania’s not here, and it’s obvious that these people want answers.

  He offers what appears to be a smile someone paid him to give—a crack full of yellow squares for teeth.

  “There have been complications,” he says.

  The crowd blows up again.

  “What kind of complications?”

  “What’s the Council Elders doing about this? Consequences are in order!”

  “Oh, shut your trap, ya rusted lug nut. Nothin’ is in order, don’t ya see that? The council’s fallin’ apart!”

  “Who told you this?”

  “Where is she getting her information?”

  And these people are supposed to be worthy? Maybe I’m not so bad after all.

  “Enough!” comes the dwarf’s voice. It blasts across the room louder than anyone else’s, the sheer power of it caus
ing everyone’s hair to wave in its wind.

  His glossy yellow eyes roll from side to side, inspecting the group. It’s like he knows there are traitors among us, but he’s afraid to let the news spill. If he does, chaos will unravel.

  “Hey,” comes Rachel’s voice.

  Holy shit. My plan worked.

  The dwarf goes on to talk about something, but I tune him out. Spinning around, I wrap a protective arm around Rachel as if trying to protect her from the paparazzi. If she’s seen by someone who knows she isn’t part of the Battalion, there’s no telling what will happen.

  Ace’s brows come so close together you’d think an invisible force was compressing his face. “What the hell is going on?” he whispers sharply.

  The glare I give him is enough to shut him up. The last thing we need is for everyone’s panic to shift our way.

  “Keep cool,” I hiss back. “I brought her here.”

  He keeps his mouth shut and watches us, a strange look in his eyes.

  Jerking my head sideways, I lead Rachel as far away from Ace as I can, which isn’t far. I want to trust the guy—I really, really do—but my motto has always been guilty until proven innocent. I’ve seen enough con artists in my life to know that trust is as precious as pink diamonds.

  Right now, the only people I trust are Drax and Rachel. I’d say I trust Mr. Mushroom, but even some days I wonder if he’s more than what he lets on.

  The moment we step away from everyone, Rachel’s eyes light up and she wiggles her hand in front of my face, her fake ruby ring glistening under the shitty basement lights. “Cassidy said you sent her. How’d you meet her?” Rachel says.

  “Let’s say I have my ways,” I say, not wanting to get into the details of my situation with Cassidy the witch.

  “She was super cool,” Rachel says. “She made it look so easy.” She grins at her ring again like it’s the most precious thing she owns. “You can’t even tell it’s not—”

  With my fingers still wrapped around her shoulder, I squeeze hard and she stops talking. This room is filled with so many different races that there’s bound to be someone in here with ears like an owl.

  “Listen,” I whisper. “We can’t talk here. I need you to pay attention to what’s going on. I get the feeling we’re going to need your help.”

  Her posture stiffens and she beams at me. I get it. Everyone wants to feel like they’re needed or valued, and Rachel’s no exception. It doesn’t help that since I met her, not once have I made her feel important. All I’ve done is tell her how much of an amateur she is and how she’ll get hurt. I might not be happy about how things started, but it’s become obvious that Zerachu’s blood runs through her.

  The kid’s got a gift.

  “We don’t know,” the dwarf says grimly. “No one can track her.”

  Shit. What did I miss? I move toward Ace, who looks like he’s about to vomit. He gives me a look that says, This is really bad, which leads me to believe that maybe he isn’t a bad guy, after all.

  He is one of the good guys, isn’t he?

  “What are we supposed to do?” someone asks.

  An eerie silence fills the room, and every breath taken sounds like a gasp in contrast.

  “Devania is looking into this,” the dwarf says, “but until she discovers who is behind all of this, she will remain in hiding.”

  I lean toward Ace. “What did I miss?”

  With wide eyes locked on the fat dwarf at the front, he says, “Zerachu’s being held captive somewhere, and no one knows where. The spell that was cast inside the Dark Hall was a form of blood magic. Her blood. Even the Council of Elders can’t figure this one out. But it wasn’t Zerachu who cast it, which doesn’t make much sense.”

  Rachel smiles up at me, looking a bit goofy amid the gloom and panic in the room. Thankfully, Ace doesn’t see her, and I manage to frown at her in time to get her to wipe that slick smile off her face.

  I get that she’s excited—she’s related to Zerachu, and she and I are the two people in the room privy to this information. In short, Rachel is the only one who can save her great-aunt, and ultimately, save the world.

  Wow, that sounded dramatic.

  But it’s true… and it’s huge.

  That’s what she said.

  Although I trust that she’s a mighty witch, things are getting dangerous. When even the Elders can’t fix something, things are bad. Really bad. That’s what happens when witches use blood magic.

  I’m glad we have the same blood standing right here in this room, but how the hell does a kid stand a chance against something this crazy?

  I swallow hard, feeling bile bubble in the pit of my stomach. Am I anxious, or withdrawing from alcohol?

  “You’re telling us we can’t go out into view?” someone shouts.

  The round dwarf nods slowly. “The spell is worldwide. Humans can see your true form.”

  “But vampires are free to walk about as they please,” a Gorton cuts in. “This was clearly orchestrated by them.”

  “Yes, group us all into one…” comes a somber voice.

  At the far back corner stands a vampire with arms crossed over his belly, a long leather jacket that hangs right above his ankles, and a sour look on his face that tells me he doesn’t put up with being labeled.

  “Anthony, you know I didn’t mean—” says the Gorton.

  Anthony the vampire raises a white hand—a gesture meant to signify, don’t waste your breath—and the Gorton’s mouth becomes a flat line.

  “We don’t have proof of anything,” the dwarf says. He scratches his dark, wrinkled skin and sighs toward the ceiling. The guy reminds me of a police chief who’s spent too long in his position. “All I know is that static fae must remain in hiding.”

  By static, he means demons who can’t conceal their true selves. Luckily for me, I look human unless I choose to reveal myself. People like Drax, however, are always their demon selves. Magic protects them from feebles and now, that’s been tampered with.

  “Well…” comes a familiar voice. “Many of us can still walk among humans.”

  Out from the crowd comes the teenage witch from earlier—the kid who helped us out with the dragon.

  “Zane,” Rachel breathes.

  Zane’s dark eyes roll toward her. He hesitates, his lips partially open, but then turns his attention back toward the crowd.

  Shit.

  He knows she isn’t supposed to be in here. Hopefully, he likes her enough to not rat her out.

  “Until the Elders figure out how to disable this spell,” he says simply, “our brothers and sisters will have to fight in the shadows.”

  By brothers and sisters, I assume he’s referring to any static demon within the Battalion.

  Everyone nods slowly, almost entranced, as if Devania were the one speaking. Who is this kid and why is everyone suddenly showing so much respect?

  “The Council of Elders is searching for the Book of Origin and the Heart of Danu as we speak. They’ve asked for our help to keep our kind away from the humans.”

  The energy in the room shifts.

  For the first time, I see a group of soldiers prepared to fight for a cause—not a crowd of panicked shadow dwellers.

  Out from the crowd comes a tall, dark-skinned man with white eyes and pointed ears. “We will spread the word among our people.”

  A dark faerie.

  Beside him are three others—one male and two females. They nod without saying a word, their piercing eyes searching the room.

  Dark faeries get a bad rap, but what people don’t understand is that they aren’t all evil. A lot of them are good, but their magic is badass and often deadly.

  Everyone knows not to piss off a dark faerie, which makes having them on our side invaluable.

  Zane places a solid fist over his chest and lowers his head—a gesture meant to signify thank you, or good luck.

  “We will fight to the death,” comes a deep, yet feminine voice.

  She ste
ps forward, her plated chest gleaming, and wraps her fingers around her sword’s hilt. Her hair, long and braided, hangs over one shoulder down to her waist. I don’t even have to smell her to know what she is—an Amazonus demon.

  Sometimes referred to as Amazons in Greek mythology, Amazonus demons have been around for centuries. Although they don’t possess any magic, they’re bold, courageous, and possess strength comparable to that of ten feebles, making them ideal soldiers. Behind her stands another dozen women in metal plated armor, their chins level with the floor and their fearless eyes fixated straight ahead.

  Again, Zane touches his chest and bows.

  More and more shadow dwellers step forward, offering their skills and specialties to the cause.

  Ace glances sideways at me, likely wondering the same thing I am: what do we as sex demons have to offer the world other than a good time?

  Biting my lip, I stare back at him. Am I seriously pondering whether to offer my strength as an act of heroism? This isn’t like me. My gaze shifts toward my Battalion ring.

  What the hell did you do to me, Devania?

  Is this thing laced with Let’s fix the world magic?

  My mind wanders back to the dragon’s rancid internal organs and how I tore out of that thing like it was nothing. Okay—it wasn’t nothing. It was disgusting, and it sucked up much of my energy.

  But I managed it, which means my strength is something I can offer. So why isn’t Ace saying anything? And why is he staring at me? The guy’s proven himself to be stronger than me, yet he stands there looking like a sheep… like someone prepared to obey any order I give.

  And I haven’t even used my Lure on the guy.

  How could someone who can teleport with a click of their fingers turn to me—a drunk—for guidance?

  You may have fallen victim to feeble weaknesses, but you are not weak.

  The voice is my own, but the words sound like something that Alice, my doll, would say to me. Is she in my head? Or, is she still following me?

  Probably.

  I listen to my gut, or Alice—whoever is responsible for my little inner pep talk. Deep down, I know I’m a force to be reckoned with. Somewhere along the way after Jamal was killed, I allowed grief to consume me. I’m still hurting inside—I miss Jamal more than anything—but what I’ve become is something I’m not proud of, and I know for a fact that if he’s watching me, he’s no doubt disappointed in what I’ve become.