Born in Darkness

by J. Kenner

  “You don’t think he’d—a girl walks in off the street—”

  “I think if he’d planned to use Gracie, then he’d be desperate. I think he’s taken girls off the street before. And I think we need to hurry.”

  I nodded, tears clogging my throat as I struggled to get my key into the back door lock. I couldn’t—I wouldn’t—fail my sister again.

  “I’m killing the son of a bitch,” I said, my voice thick. “I swear, I’m killing him for what he did to Alice. For what he’s trying to do to Rose. And I’m going to make him feel every bit of the life as it drains out of him.”

  Deacon looked at me, and for a moment I thought he was going to argue. I didn’t want to hear it, because there was nothing—nothing—he could say that would save Egan’s life.

  “I’ll hold him for you.”

  I met his eyes. Nodded. And pulled open the door.

  Whatever was in there, we’d face it together.

  42

  We raced down the stairs toward the basement, sunrise only minutes away, and searched the wall for the metal door I’d brushed my fingers over just the other day.

  Nothing.

  I swallowed, panic setting in. Rose. I couldn’t lose Rose.

  I kicked the wall, willing the door to appear. Nothing.

  “Dammit!”

  “Egan,” Deacon said. “Go. I’ll stay here. Try to figure a way in.”

  I was halfway up the stairs before the suggestion was out of his mouth. I burst through the kitchen doors into the pub area, relief welling in me as I saw Egan pacing the length of the darkened pub. He turned, saw the knife in my hand, and paled.

  “Alice!”

  “How do I get in? How do I find the door, you lying, murdering bastard?”

  His eyes widened and he dropped the saltshaker he’d been cleaning, the white bar rag still in his hand like a flag of surrender. “I—what—?”

  After that, he was fresh out of witty conversation and raced for the front doors. He didn’t make it, the knife lodging in his thigh effectively bringing him down.

  I was at his side in an instant, my hand closing over the hilt of my blade. “Tell me,” I said. “Tell me or I twist the knife until I reach an artery. Any idea how fast a thigh can bleed out?”

  He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

  I grabbed his collar and shook.

  “How do I find her? Damn you, you son of a bitch. Where do they have the girl?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Alice, sweetheart, what’s gotten into you?”

  I leaned forward, getting right into his face. “Someone who’s not Alice, you lying scum. That’s what’s gotten into me.” I slammed my hand over his heart and looked deep into those eyes. He tried to turn away, but it was too late—I’d been sucked into the hell of his thoughts, the crimes for which I’d come to punish him right on the surface—images and thoughts mixing and swirling, pulling me into a miasma of greed and desperation that confirmed all of my worst fears.

  He’d killed his own sister when she’d refused to allow the pub to be ground zero for demonic activity.

  And he hadn’t even hesitated when the demons had come to him and demanded a specific girl. They’d demanded Alice.

  He’d sold her, thinking she was a traditional sacrifice. Thinking she was the same as the other girls he’d sold to finance the pub.

  He’d sold his own niece to die at the hands of the demons, and planned the same fate for Gracie.

  And when he couldn’t find her, he’d snatched a helpless, damaged girl who’d come in off the street, looking for a friend.

  The bastard had sacrificed my sister to cover his butt with the demons.

  I trembled, rage filling me and clouding my thoughts. I wanted nothing but my hands around his neck, squeezing tight.

  I wanted him dead. But I couldn’t do it. Not yet. Not until I found her.

  I forced myself to focus, desperate to find the control Madame Parrish had insisted I could use to navigate these visions. I couldn’t break away yet, not until I learned how to open the door.

  “Come on,” I whispered inside my head. “Come on, you bastard.”

  His consciousness shrank away from me, but I followed, down the dark corridors of his mind, filled with greed and regret and fear. The liquid image shifted, clarifying, and now I was in the basement, in the hall. He was there, but not there, wanting to escape, that want so vibrant it thrummed through my head, ricocheting through my body.

  “Show me . . . Show me . . . . . .ocused, the effort of concentrating my energy, of keeping hold of him, completely exhausting. But I had him—and as I watched, he sliced his palm, then smeared the blood on the wall. The rock seemed to melt away, revealing a metal door with odd markings on it.

  Got you.

  I yanked my hand back, breaking the connection, wanting free of this man. Wanting out of his head.

  On the wall, the clock ticked ominously. The ceremony would be starting, and I had to hurry.

  Egan struggled when I picked him up, and I was grateful for the strength of all the demons I’d killed. I twisted the knife still embedded in his leg. His shriek split my eardrums, but he froze, staying still as I hauled him down the stairs and dumped him in front of the door.

  “Open it,” I said to Egan.

  He answered by spitting on my shoes.

  “Then let me help you.” The time for games was over, and my patience had run thin. I grabbed his hand, ignoring his scream as I sliced deep into his palm. I pressed the bloody hand to the stone, trying to place it where I’d seen it in the vision.

  At first, nothing happened. Then, in a freaky bit of déjà vu, the rock started to dissolve, revealing the now-familiar metal door.

  I ran my hand over it, searching for a latch, found it, and pushed it quietly open. Another corridor.

  “Bring him?” Deacon asked, hauling Egan to his feet.

  I turned to face Alice’s uncle. “He’s deadweight.” I met Egan’s eyes. “I’m ending you.”

  Egan swallowed. “Please,” he whispered, his body shaking under my hand.

  I thought of Lucas Johnson, of the revenge that stained me.

  I thought of Alice.

  I thought of the travesties I’d seen in Egan’s memory.

  I thought of my own redemption.

  And then, God help me, I drew my blade across his neck and slit the bastard’s throat.

  He sagged, and I stepped back as Deacon let go, the body falling to the ground like so much garbage. My eyes met Deacon’s, and he nodded, the slightest inclination of his head. No matter what anyone else thought, in his eyes—and in my own—I’d done the right thing.

  We raced down the hall, trading silence for speed and hoping the demons couldn’t hear the pounding of our feet as we raced forward. Move with stealth and the ritual might be completed before we arrived. Clatter forward at breakneck speed and the ceremony might end prematurely with a knife through Rose’s neck, for no reason other than to punish her would-be rescuers.

  With any luck, we’d found a middle ground: fast but not loud. With even more luck, the ritual chanting camouflaged our approach.

  I had no choice but to hope for luck, because without it Rose was dead. Certainly, I couldn’t count on the angels to step in and save her. They hadn’t stepped in to save me, after all.

  The corridor ended at a thick wooden door. Closed, but not locked. We yanked the door open, and Deacon and I rushed in together, side by side.

  What I saw inside was enough to make me almost stumble. Rose, clad in a long white gown, bathed in an unearthly silver glow, strapped down to a stone table, struggling and screaming against a white cloth gag as a ceremonial blade plunged downward, held by the joined hands of two black-hooded demons.

  A door on the far side of the room was open, and even as I lunged for the demons’ knife, I could see a figure disappear, the black cloak billowing as if in a breeze.

  No time to worry about that now. I landed har
d against one demon, sending the knife clattering to the ground. Deacon went on the other side of the table, tackling the companion demon, and even as I fumbled to keep the demon’s hands away from the ceremonial knife, I could hear Deacon battling with his own demon on the far side of that thick stone table.

  I couldn’t worry about Deacon, though. The hood of the demon fell back, and I realized I was wrestling with Tank. I had my weapon out, desperate to kill the beast and get to Rose, but he was having none of it.

  He thrust sideways, twisting over, then bending my hand back until he freed the blade from my grip. He straddled me, and as I used one hand to hold him back, my other hand struggled to find my blade.

  I found the ceremonial knife instead, and, desperate, I thrust up, the blade sliding into his nose to embed itself in his brain.

  He fell backward, and I struggled up, gasping. My knife was by the wall, and I lunged for it, then sank it deep into Tank’s heart. I heard a small hiss as the black goo seeped out, and as the strength and vile essence that had been Tank surged through me, I rushed to Rose, grounding myself by looking at her face. At her eyes.

  “Rose,” I said as I pulled off her gag.

  Whatever the silver glow had been, it was gone now. She stopped struggling, and those eyes went even wider as she stared at me. “Lily?” she whispered.

  “I—My name’s Alice. Remember?”

  “He was here. Lily. Lily, it’s him. He was here. He did something. He was here. Put something inside.” The words came out in a rush, tumbling over themselves, pushed out by the fear in her eyes.

  I didn’t need to hear her say it to know who he was, but I asked anyway.

  “Lucas Johnson,” she said.

  “I’ve got you now,” I said firmly, as my fingers worked at the knot of her bindings. “You’re safe.”

  But she shook her head. “Never gonna be free. Never gonna be safe.” She tilted her head to the side, one eye looking up at me, and the image made me think of a cold, dead fish. I trembled, ashamed and suddenly very, very scared.

  “He’s in me, Lily,” she whispered. “He put something in me. Him. Part of him. It burns. Oh, God, Lily, it burns!”

  “Rose, no. You’re safe. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” But she didn’t hear me. How could she have over the sound of her own scream?

  And then, as the scream faded, she slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

  43

  “Could he have? Could he have put part of himself inside of her?”

  We were in a pungent motel room, ripe with the stench of sex and sweat. The kind of place that took cash and didn’t ask questions. Perfect, in other words.

  Rose was still asleep, and I had her head in my lap as I stroked her hair. Part of me wanted to wake her up, to ask her question after question. Another part of me wanted to let her stay lost in sleep, the one place where she could escape the nightmare of reality.

  “Yeah,” Deacon said. “He could have.”

  In my lap, Rose stirred, but didn’t awake. My heart, however, ripped a little. “My whole life I’ve tried to protect her, and look what happened. I tried to save the world, and Armageddon’s closer than ever.”

  Everything had been turned inside out, twisted up and confused.

  No more.

  I knew the score now. And it was time to step up to the plate. Time to save Rose. Time to save the whole damn world.

  I stood up, feeling strong. Feeling confident.

  Lily Carlyle, Demon Assassin, was pissed.

  And they had all better watch out.

  Keep reading for Chapter One of Lost in Shadows, Book 2 of the Redemption Chronicles!

  Lost In Shadows: Chapter One

  My name is Lily Carlyle. Except that it's not. Not really. Not anymore.

  I'd gone out one night intending to kill the son of a bitch who'd stalked and raped my little sister, Rose. I failed, though, and instead of killing Lucas Johnson, I'd ended up dead.

  Not exactly the result I'd been hoping for, I'll admit. And it just got weirder when I woke up in someone else's body.

  Since that day, my name's been Alice Elaine Purdue.

  Which pretty much makes my name a metaphor for my life. Because nothing in my life is what it seems. For example, I thought that I'd been brought back to life to kill the demons who were trying to open the Ninth Gate to Hell. I thought I was stopping an army of demons from crossing over at the next interdimensional convergence. That I was preventing Armageddon. That I was doing Good, with a capital G, and when all was said and done, I'd walk away with a nice shiny halo and a great big A+ on my permanent record.

  Um, no.

  The truth is a lot more complicated. The truth, for that matter, pisses me off.

  I was duped. Told I was battling the Big Bad, when really I was doing Evil's bidding. My mission wasn't to keep the Ninth Gate locked up tight and hold back the demonic horde—it was to keep the good guys from doing that very thing.

  I hadn't prevented the end of the world; I'd facilitated it.

  The Ninth Gate is wide-open, and in less than two weeks, an army of demons is going to cross over. Life as we know it is going to end. And the cliché "hell on earth" will no longer be a figure of speech.

  At least, that's the demons’ dirty little plan. I, however, don't intend to let that happen. They made me a warrior, and by God it is time to do battle.

  I'm going to figure out how to lock the gate tight.

  And the more demons I have to kill to do that, the better.

  Grab your copy now: Lost in Shadows

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  J. Kenner Series In KU

  Check out these blurbs for KU first-in-series books

  by J. Kenner!

  Carpe Demon

  Kate Connor is your average, everyday mom with two kids, a husband, and one very big secret ... she used to be a Demon Hunter for a secret arm of the Vatican. Now retired, she's more interested in the domestic than the demonic. So when she catches sight of a demon in Wal-Mart, she tells herself it's some other Hunter's problem. But when that demon attacks her in her kitchen, retirement is no longer an option.

  Now Kate has to kick a little demon butt, figure out why the creatures are trying to take her out and take over her home town, and at the same time take care of her 2 year old, deal with a hormonal 14 year old, get the family to Catholic Mass on time, and try to keep her past a secret from her daughter and her husband.

  She's a little out of practice, but hey ... if she can juggle two kids and an impromptu dinner party, ridding the town of demons should be a piece of cake. Like the saying goes, Carpe Demon ... and Kate intends to do just that.

  So (Very!) Much More than

  the Girl Next Door

  With her X-ray vision and super-senses, Zoe Smith is about as far from normal as a girl can get—and she intends to stay that way. Half-mortal and half-superhero, Zoe is determined to help save the world. But first she has to pass her upcoming tests and avoid having her memory and powers erased through “mortalization.”

  An ex-cop turned private investigator, George Taylor craves a normal life with a normal wife in a normal neighborhood. The typical American dream—and when he meets Zoe Smith, he’s certain she’s one-hundred percent “the girl next-door”.

  With her super powers, Zoe can do just about anything … except make Taylor fall in love with her. For that, they’re both going to need a different kind of magic …

  Down On Me

  With his tight muscles and vibrant ink, certified bachelor Reece Walker is the kind of man who’s used to having any woman he craves in his bed—except Jenna Montgomery. She’s been his best friend for years, and that’s a line he just can’t cross.

  Until a wild, stolen kiss changes everything. Now anyt
hing goes, and Reece is determined to use every wicked skill in his sensual repertoire to claim Jenna as his friend, his lover, his everything.

  Born in Darkness

  Fight and redeem myself … refuse and suffer an eternity of torment.

  I intended to kill him—to avenge my sister by destroying the vile human who’d tortured and broken her. My plan was simple. Foolproof.

  Except somehow I ended up dead.

  Now the joke’s on me, because I’ve been resurrected as an assassin and given a choice: Fight the forces of darkness and redeem myself … or refuse and suffer an eternity of torment.

  The choice seems clear. But I’m unprepared for the depth of the evil I must face. And I’m unsettled by my attraction to the darkly sensual man whose words seduce me, but who is hiding secrets of his own.

  All I know is what I’m told. I’m afraid I’m a pawn in a much larger game where I can’t tell my enemies from my allies. I just hope it’s a game I can win.

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