by G A Chase
Hell or High Water
The Devil’s Daughter (book 4)
G.A. Chase
Bayou Moon Press, LLC
Copyright © 2019 by G.A. Chase
First Edition 2019
Cover Art by Ravven
Editing by Red Adept
ISBN eBook: 978-1-940299-81-5
ISBN print: 978-1-940299-80-8
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, business establishments, or persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.
Bayou Moon Press, LLC
Contents
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Book List
About the Author
About This Book
Sere Mal-Laurette was warned against meeting Jennifer, the real woman behind her doppelgänger body. However, she didn’t mention that instruction to Jennifer during their numerous psychically bonded moments. So when Jennifer shows up in front of Sere’s apartment, the doppelgänger doesn’t see much choice other than to invite the housewife in for a cup of coffee.
Before the day is out, Myles’s sweet little dog has turned into a hellhound, Sere’s friend and sidekick Fisher has succumbed to his demonic possession, and supersized crawfish have emerged from the swamp. Sere is forced to wonder if she should have heeded the warnings about Jennifer. But is the widening of the hell mouth a result of one morning’s coffee conversation, or is something more sinister at work?
Sere has plenty of other explanations to choose from. There are the lost souls of the damned that Marjory Laroque cast into hell in her attempt to raise a new devil. There’s the fact that Sere’s sweet angel and mother figure, Sanguine, has been imprisoned. Worst of all, Sere’s very presence among the living could be the cause of the impending apocalypse. Once again she needs help curbing the chaos, but this time, she’ll call on her support system in hell.
***
Want to know what happens next to Sere? Find the next book in the series here:
Hell Away from Home
Curious about how Sere got to be the bad-ass demon hunter? Find her back story woven into the Malveaux Curse Mysteries starting with book 1 here:
Dog Days of Voodoo
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1
Sere stood in the closet doorway, admiring Bart’s toned back and butt as he slept naked on her bed. Light from the dormer window played across his olive-brown skin, reminding her of how she’d run her hands over him during the night. Like a good fight, the hours of wild human sex had left her wanting more, but he deserved at least a little sleep so he could recoup before she resumed her sexual assault. She pulled on her tight jeans and white T-shirt, imagining him yanking them off when she returned.
Hell’s demons weren’t likely to sit on the sidelines while she took some time for herself, and there was still work to do in containing Marjory Laroque. But Sere hadn’t made all that much progress by devoting every second of her life to the containment of hell. How much worse could things get if I took a day to explore this new aspect of my relationship with that hunky bartender? After all, Kendell keeps telling me to let others take charge, even if it’s just for a few hours.
She stepped out of the old three-story building on Frenchmen Street to grab a couple of cups of coffee from the local café. Red plastic cups, to-go boxes, and a passed-out dude sitting against the Scratchy Dog nightclub’s front door were all that remained of the night’s revelry. As she passed a dark alleyway a block from the club, the smell of freshly baked chocolate-chip cookies cut through the morning stench. The enticing aroma that wafted from the shadows made her stop cold. I’d better be dreaming.
“Hi, Sere.” Jennifer’s voice was so similar to Sere’s that for a moment, she wondered if the words were merely in her head.
“You can’t be here.” Without the option of fighting her real, Sere wanted to turn and run, but she feared Jennifer would just follow her. If the woman knew enough to show up on Frenchmen Street, she had to know where Sere lived.
“If you don’t have the time, I can come back later.” Jennifer opened the bag.
The intense aroma of butter and chocolate almost made Sere swoon. “You don’t get it. It’s not safe for us to meet. Go back to your son and husband.”
“You sound like Bobby. He’s just getting to that age when kids think they can tell their parents what to do. How about you let me make my own life decisions?” She pulled a cookie out of the bag. “I brought treats.”
“Seriously? You’re going to pull the I’ve got candy, little girl trick on me?”
Jennifer put the cookie back in the bag like a drug dealer who’d just hit on the wrong potential customer. “If you didn’t want me to track you down, you should have done a better job of hiding.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a printout regarding Joe’s wake the night before. “Or maybe you think I’m too stupid to put two and two together.”
Sere couldn’t believe how foolish she’d been. Joe had saved Jennifer’s life out in the swamp. Sere should have realized the threat back then, but after he died, she’d been careless enough to tell Jennifer about it during their psychic connection. “I guess I should thank you for not showing up at his funeral.”
“I didn’t want to complicate your life.”
Boy, has that ship sailed. Sere looked around Frenchmen Street. Only a handful of people struggled out of their homes at nine in the morning—most were still recovering from the previous night. “So you just stopped by on your way to a shopping day with your friends?” If people were waiting for Jennifer, she might not stick around long.
“Bobby’s at a camping retreat, and Henry has a conference in the city. I used the excuse of joining him to come down here. Honestly, I didn’t know if I’d have the nerve to face you.” Jennifer stared down at her black leather pumps. The stance was one Sere knew well, having used it many times herself as a young girl caught telling a half-truth.
“You were spying on me last night, weren’t you?” Sere asked.
Jennifer tossed her long red locks back over her shoulder and looked up at Sere. “You have no idea how badly I wanted to join the wake. I felt like I already knew so many people in the bar: Fisher, Bart, Kendell, Polly, and most of all, you. It felt like I’d been kicked out of a family reunion.”
“They aren’t your family.”
The homemaker stepped forward out of the shadows. “You clearly are. Having an imaginary friend is one thing, but when she ends up being real and looking like a twin sister, there’s clearly a story somewhere. Don’t you think it’s about time I got an explanation?”
“If I said no, would you
go away?” Sere asked hopefully.
“Would you?”
Sere was beginning to realize that some aspects of Jennifer’s spirit had seeped into her doppelgänger body. “I suppose not, but I’m known for doing things that aren’t always in my best interest.”
“Sounds like we have that in common,” Jennifer said.
If they remained out in the open for much longer, someone Sere knew was sure to notice the eerie similarities between the two women. “I was just headed to get some coffee.”
“I’ll join you.”
Sere shook her head in fear. “No, you won’t. Stay here, and don’t let anyone see you. I’ll get the coffee, and we can go someplace private to talk.”
“Do you bully everyone this way?”
“Just, please stay here,” Sere pleaded. “When I come back, I’ll explain everything. Right now, though, trust me—it’s better this way.”
Jennifer crossed her arms over her stomach and shook her head. The look of motherly disapproval was one Sere had seen on the homemaker before, just never aimed at her. “I’ve seen you slay demons without flinching and watched as others dug bullets from your flesh. You’ve even given me a taste of your bravery. And yet I terrify you?”
Every second they were out in plain sight, Kendell, Myles, or someone else might spot them having their odd conversation. “Of course I’m not afraid of you. The repercussions of our meeting, however, could weaken the boundary between the living and the damned. I’ve already got one devil on the rise. I don’t need an army of monster-riding ghouls joining him.”
“All right, demon killer. I’ll wait here for you. But don’t think you’re scaring me off with tales of the apocalypse. All I’m asking for is a little morning conversation. How bad could that really be?”
Sere stormed off down the street toward the coffee shop. Having Jennifer show up was her own damn fault. For all of the psychic bonds they’d shared, never once had she told the woman that they couldn’t meet—even after Jennifer figured out that Sere wasn’t just an imaginary friend. Sere was still shaking her head in disbelief when she pushed open the door to the café.
“Your regular, Miss Sere?” The barista took too long looking her over.
“Better make it two. And the largest, strongest cup of dark roast you’ve got.” Bart was going to need more than just caffeine that morning, so she added, “I could use a shot of Jack in that black coffee.”
“You got it. Family in town?” The barista fired up the espresso machine like she was pulling the levers on a steam engine. “I saw your twin sister earlier wandering down the street.”
Shit. At least allowing the woman to believe Jennifer was Sere’s twin made for an easy explanation. “She’s only here for a few hours.”
The barista pulled the bottle of Jack Daniel’s off the shelf and gave the dark roast a good healthy shot. “I don’t imagine she’s the one in need of a little extra boost this morning.”
Sere wondered how long she was going to have to endure the interrogation. “There was a wake last night at the Scratchy Dog for someone I care about. A friend decided to stay the night.”
The woman looked up through the steam. “I’m so sorry.” With her wide brown eyes and shocked expression, she seemed to honestly mean it.
“Yeah, well…” Sere had no idea what she was supposed to say. The only thing worse than having to express sympathy was figuring out what to do when it was aimed at her.
“Two long macchiatos and a black and jack.” The barista handed over the cardboard caddy with the three large paper cups. “This is on the house today. I’m glad you’ve got your loved ones with you.”
Sere wished she remembered the woman’s name. “Thanks.” She walked out of the café, holding the three cups and wondering how she’d ended up having two people who wanted to know her better. As she approached the alleyway, she nodded at Jennifer, who was sitting on the stoop. “I’m just up the street.” She felt like she was inviting a stray dog home for something to eat.
“Above the Scratchy Dog—I know.”
Stalker much? Sere handed over one of the macchiatos. “If anyone asks, you’re my twin sister.”
“Is that really what I am?” Jennifer took a sip of the hot brew. Though she didn’t say anything, her scrunched-up facial expression made it clear it wasn’t her normal cup of coffee.
“Not quite.” Sere unlocked the door next to the Scratchy Dog and ushered Jennifer in before Kendell or Myles had a chance to look through the nightclub window and notice Sere had a guest. The conversation was going to be awkward enough without the couple offering unneeded warnings. “My loft is all the way up. There are a couple of loose stairs, so watch your step.”
“I just love these old buildings—so much character.” Jennifer climbed the steps, looking at the crackle-painted walls like a realtor inspecting a new loft coming on the market.
“The door’s unlocked. I hope you’re not afraid of snakes.”
It wasn’t until Jennifer pushed open the squeaky old door that Sere remembered snakes weren’t the only things she might encounter. Standing in the middle of the room, looking like a naked Greek god, Bart puffed out his chest. “You weren’t in bed when I got up.”
Jennifer just stood there as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. Sere had to push the woman aside. “I snuck out to get some coffee. You might want to put some clothes on.”
“Holy shit!” Bart covered his towering erection, bent over, and ran for the bathroom. “I thought that was you coming through the door.”
“Please don’t go to any fuss on my account,” Jennifer called after the retreating butt. Once he’d closed the door, she turned to Sere. “That’s some snake.”
“Do you want to hear about our connection, or do you want to keep drooling over your rescuer?” Sere pulled the bag of solidified sugar from the cabinet and banged it on the Formica countertop to loosen it up.
“I’m guessing both isn’t an option. It’s a shame I can’t drop in on you the way you do with me. He must really be something in action.” She had her eyes back on the door as if she were trying to see through it.
“He’s not a windup toy.” Sere washed off the spoon that had been left in the sink and set it next to the bag of sugar. “When you’re done admiring my bathroom door, come and join me on the couch.”
Jennifer sweetened her coffee and managed to walk across the small living space without tripping over anything—something of a miracle, considering she never broke eye contact with the peeling paint of the closed bathroom door. Jennifer’s heart was beating with so much desire that Sere could feel the energy through their connection.
“So where do you want to start?” Sere asked.
Bart came out of the bathroom, wearing only his black jeans. “I’m afraid you destroyed my shirt last night.” Buttons from the black dress shirt were still scattered next to the bed. His black tie was knotted to the headboard, proclaiming the night’s activities.
“I don’t mind.” Jennifer held the dark coffee between her knees as if the hot beverage was a stand-in for the stud taking a seat on the kitchen chair in front of her.
Bart looked from Sere to Jennifer then back again. “What is she doing here?”
It was bound to be a long day, and fudging the truth would only draw out the explanations. “I never thought to tell her not to find me,” Sere said. “Between you and Joe saving her from the demons out in the swamp, me rattling off your names while connected to her, and Kendell using social media to round up Joe’s friends for his wake, I’m afraid we all made this visit inevitable.”
“You’re treating me like some evil aunt no one invited to Thanksgiving but who showed up anyway,” Jennifer said. “I’m starting to take it personally.” She set the bag of cookies on the couch between them.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Sere reached in and took the peace offering. “My worry is as much about keeping you safe as about the larger dangers.”
“Well, I’m here now. How about
we start with who the hell are you?”
Sere had made the explanation enough times to have created a condensed version. “My name is Serephine Mal-Laurette. I died two hundred years ago. My father was the devil. In hell, everyone has a doppelgänger. He stole my soul from the loas of the dead and stuck me in your double. He’s gone now, and I escaped his hell dimension.”
Jennifer sipped her coffee. “Bobby once caught me sneaking a dollar under his pillow after he lost a tooth. For a while, we had him convinced I led a secret life as the tooth fairy. I’m not a child, and you’re not the devil’s daughter. Try again.”
“Everything Sere said is true.” Bart gave Sere a knowing smile. “I wouldn’t have believed it either, but I’ve seen too much weird shit go down to doubt her.”
Jennifer bit her lip as if considering what the hot hunk had to offer. “Even if I did accept what you’re saying, why me?”
Now, that’s a fucking brilliant question, Sere thought. “Why is anyone in the position they’re in? That’s not a question I can answer. Why was I born to Archibald Malveaux? All I know is I’m based on you, but I have my own soul. When things get complicated, I can be hooked up to you for a quick paranormal healing. For all of our sakes, please don’t ask how that connection is made. I barely understand it myself, and those who help make it possible would be in danger if the secret got out.”
Jennifer nodded. “Is that what happened to Joe?”
“Joe was keeping me safe.” The group that surrounded Sere always seemed to be at risk for one reason or another. “I’m just trying to keep you from getting sucked into my life’s hurricane of dramas.”