Devil's Prince (Satan's Brood Book 1)

by Louise Furley

  Devil’s Prince

  Louise Furley

  Devil’s Prince

  Copyright (©) 2020 Louise Furley

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic of mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  ISBN- 978-1-7363452-0-7 (Paperback)

  ISBN- 978-1-7357712-9-8 (eBook)

  Cover design by Pixel Mischief Design

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  ALSO by Louise Furley

  Solitar

  Halo Valley

  Isle of Orainn

  Anastasia

  The Kissing Number

  Distilled Duplicity

  The Poser

  Wrath of Wolf

  Devil’s Seed

  Adara

  Jungle Treasure

  Jancarlo

  His Winnings

  Jezábel and the Assassin

  Chapter One

  Although the room teemed with a grand variety of different species, some innocuous, others lethal, surreptitious glances from males flagged Devilos Dravidian as he moved through the crowd. Never direct stares, just fleeting uneasy glimpses.

  A felon-hunting warlord, the aura of bestial violence clings to Dev like a savage cloak and no one at the party wanted to draw that menacing notice. Men fear him, and only the truly wanton females that preferred the darker, more brutal side of males endeavored to get near him.

  Right now, one of those women batted thick lashes at the warlord while dragging her nails down his sleeve of black leather. “Ah, Dravidian,” her sigh a gush of sultry invitation, “you are so damned tall, what, over six and a half feet of pure muscle? The legends tell that when you are enraged, your body morphs into… they say you become like a goliath man-eating monster.”

  People drank and danced and wandered around the couple, none dared to come too close to the demon warrior.

  Tall herself, even in six-inch heels, Rianna still had to bend her head back to look in his eyes. Her attention shifted to his head. “Oh, yeah, and those crazy ears, slightly pointed, makes you seem so…” her suggestive tongue swirled over wide lips, “mysteriously erotic,” she giggled, “I mean exotic.” Her fingers twittered toward one of his ears, but at the narrowing of his eyes she drew her hand back.

  Something at the party already had his attention thus he ignored the woman. That didn’t slow her down a bit. Leaning close to him, Rianna raised her hand to dally her nails down the side of his darkly bronzed, hard face. Her breath drifted over the skin of his neck, right over the enigmatic tattoo that curled up the side.

  She murmured in hushed excitement, “They say your fangs elongate and can tear flesh and muscle, gut even the vilest of creatures.”

  When he didn’t respond, exhaling a purring breath, Rianna nuzzled her breasts against his huge bicep. “And your claws,” she uttered, looking down at his big hands, the claws were retracted, his blunt fingers curled into his palms, “can gouge through meat and crush bones, your supreme strength decimating them.” Shivers rippled over her heated skin in fantasy imagining the carnage he could wreak.

  Hooded lids hid the gleam of rich darkness beneath, concealing the object of his interest. Devilos stood as a statue, the full harsh mouth remained closed, the only movement was the flexing of his jaw, he still did not respond to the woman pawing him. His gaze stayed fixed beyond the scores of people.

  “I’d love to feel those fangs and claws on me, and those horns, star spheres above,” Rianna drawled, running her palms down over her breasts, “they’re big, like rams’ horns.”

  Wriggling in sharp desire, her coo a breathy shiver, “I bet you’re big and hard like that…all over.” She gazed up at the horns, the points curved towards his back. Currently retracted like his claws and fangs, they were only about five inches long.

  She looked like she was considering if she dared touch one. The tip of one pointed ear twitched, making Rianna resist the urge to stroke a horn. “I hear tell they grow to at least nine inches and are thick as a man’s wrist when you battle, and during…” she mewed, “sex.”

  Rianna Malone hit on Devilos whenever he was on the space station, Protostar. He’d blown her off each time. Rianna’s voice an annoying buzz in his ear, he squinted across the room.

  His black hair bound in more than a dozen warrior braids springing from all over his head fell past his shoulders.

  She stroked one, murmured, “I can picture these braids flying when you’re charging after outlaws, while slashing your rapiers, slicing off heads and stabbing through hearts, those braids swinging and arcing, they would be their own terrifying sight.” Her palm stroked over a broad shoulder with another lusty inhale and heated wriggle.

  Without moving his head, Devilos looked down at the woman pawing him. A human female. Long wavy dark hair, blue eyes flashed under the faux lashes at him but they appeared to be an unnatural color.

  His gaze traveled further down. Her huge tits ballooned out of the low décolleté, and she was rubbing them all over his arm.

  The scarlet dress she wore clung like skin over the breasts, the wide waist and bumper-sized ass. Obvious that she would like a dangerous rough ride with elements of pain, something he could definitely give her, she would make a hardy quick tumble. But. His gaze slid from her back to the far side of the room.

  “Darlin’,” Rianna whined slightly at his lack of attention to her, it was not something she was used to with her beauty and voluptuous figure. The busty woman’s hands were now roaming his leather pants moving to below his belt. “What say you, we slag this party and find a dark,” she writhed against him, “private place we can, indulge in our…kinky fires?”

  Her hand skimmed lower to cup his bulge outlined in the leather. “Zues,” she moaned, “big, ah, come with me, Dravidian, now.” Her breaths oozing fast and shallow, she raised her arms to slide her hands up his chest and nestle her body into his.

  Pushing her hands off him, he turned from her with a growl, “Not interested.”

  Her huff of displeasure made no impression on him as he stared across the crowded room. Beyond the Albino Taws, the drunken Alpas, past the clique of humans that were obviously denigrating the rest of the species that flocked the room judging from their sniggers and mimes, something pulled at him.

  Rianna slid her hand over Dev’s ass with another invitation on her tongue; he snatched her wrist and bent it. The pain was piercing, Rianna gasped.

  Dev released her, snarled, “Do not touch me again, get lost.”

  Holding her injured wrist, the thick lashes flopped up in down in disbelief and pique. With a snort of irritation, she stalked off to find other robust meat.

  Ignoring the anxious glances shooting at him by people that were frightened by his looks alone, he was used to it, he continued his perusal under lowered lids. He didn’t care what people, of whatever species, thought about him. At the moment, his jetting eyes were tunneled to a female at the far side of the crowd.

  “Ah,” his best friend and 1st Lieutenant, Bowie Busoni, moved to stand beside him, nodding with a slight grin, “you’ve noticed the fair Prințesă?” Almost as tall as Devilos and also with shoulders and arms like a bull, Bowie combed long fingers through his thick blond hair. Devilos was a warlord hence the long braids, Bowie as a warrior kept his hair much shorter.

  The crescendo of noise increased as more liquor and drugs were consumed, laughter and conversations bounced off the neon pink
alloy walls. An alloy floor and the many windows surrounding the party hall on the space station did nothing to conduct the din.

  Outside the windows billions of stars and planets blinked pinpricks of light in the infinite black galaxy. Cosmic vehicles buzzed in a constant stream around the station taking off or landing.

  Devilos grunted, “Who is she?”

  “I’m not surprised you have never seen her before. Ever since he took her from her parents, Krystian Ritrova keeps her under tight wraps on Qoph. She is Prințesă Svetiessa Emita Ritrova.”

  Bowie looked from the female to Devilos and back. He smiled. “Extraordinary, eh? I mean for a human. Quite ádainn, uniquely beautiful.”

  When Devilos made no comment, Bowie chuckled. “I’ve only seen a brief glimpse of her once before myself. But there’s no forgetting that hair, like a brilliant swirling flame, a lasair of a flickering candlelight. You can’t see it because of the crowd, but it waves and curls like a glowing ribbon to her waist. Skin like silken pearls, and that mouth, tiny but plush as shit, hell Dev, I have dreamt about it.”

  Bowi’es brows drew down. “Can’t see her figure in that gown. But-”

  “Who is that man with his hands all over her? What is he to her?” Not that Devilos cared who the man was. Or her for that matter. He couldn’t explain his interest, he shrugged, must be bored curiosity.

  They both watched the man, a foot taller than the female, with red hair but darker, auburn, not a flickering flame like hers, cradle her face, lean in to kiss her but she lowered her head and his lips landed on her forehead.

  The man chuckled. His laugh was mirthful, but the dark glower indicated he was not happy about her avoidance.

  “That is her brother.”

  Devilos’ brows arched, his attention twitched to take in Bowie’s blue eyes twinkling with mischievousness. “Her bráthair touches her like he’s her lover?”

  “Aye. Krystian Ritrova is more accurately her leasbratháir, her half-brother. It is well known that he is infatuated with his young sister. She appears to be barely out of her teens.”

  As they watched the siblings, Krystian put both hands to net her face and hold her immobile while he lowered his lips to hers. Her fear was tangible as was her subtle struggle, as if she didn’t dare draw attention to them but wanted to be released.

  His expression incredulous, Devilos spat, “He kisses his own deisfiúr? He is a séantóir.”

  Bowie nodded. “Aye, the pervert as you say, is kissing his sister. And she clearly objects to being manhandled by him. But, he has ownership over her as her guardian. As a female on her planet, especially a prințesă, she has no rights.”

  He could feel Dev turning rigid with heat roiling off him. Bowie warned him, “Nay, má bráthair, don’t get involved. He is a powerful Sautarine. He’s not pure human like her.”

  His chest pumping, Devilos took a step in their direction- but the siblings turned to vapor, and in a poof, were gone. “What the fuck?” his rumble resonated coarsely with his stunned glare.

  “I told you, Dev, he’s a Sautarine. He has limited transporting power. His ship must be right outside the station. I’ve heard rumors he’s trying to sell Sveti’s maidenlacht, her virginity, to obtain a greater power, one that will open wormholes to him. He is,” Bowie glanced at his friend, “conflicted between his lust for power and his lust for his little sister.”

  They stood staring at the empty space where the siblings had been.

  “Come on, Dev, there are females abounding here that have been giving both of us the eye all night. You turned down the ribald Rianna. I guess she’s too…much? Tawdry is her middle name, eh? No worries, there’s plenty of other kitten chow out there.

  “Let’s get us a couple of those Nymphin Plintins, or better yet,” he grinned seeing half a dozen Nymphins floating towards them, “let’s take a handful of ‘em and hit the upstairs?” He clapped Dev’s back as the Nymphins circled them.

  Curvy, ebony-haired females like mermaids giggled and flashed the men their breasts as they floated around them. Unlike true mermaids, they could separate their legs when having sex.

  “They chatter like incessant magpies, Bow,” Dev groused, his gaze still arrowed to where the Ritrova siblings had vanished.

  Bowie reached out for one of the floating girls. “Aye. I had five sisters you know, I learned how to tune the chatter out. Come on now, the Nymphins are as damned insatiable as their names imply, grab a bunch of them and let’s go.”

  Chapter Two

  Weeks later, Dev stood in front of the main command center on his flashjet, the Grisail, with Connar Basque, one of his lieutenants at his side. The men faced the window that spread across the tip of the bow. The bridge was cluttered with people manning instruments, communications, computers and a myriad of other technicatics.

  Through a stretch, Connar yawned. “It’s good to be heading back to Protostar.” Specks of bright lights flashed as they tunneled through the galaxy.

  Another yawn and he went on, “Seems like we’ve been gone for ages, it took forever to capture that bastard, Ja’an Ukrenna. I don’t know how he got away so long with those serial murders. I mean, the missing prostitutes weren’t noticed until the political councilmenes started disappearing.”

  Dev pushed his long braids off to his back. Instead of his normal leather he wore a long sleeved black shirt, pants, and heavy boots. “Aye. If it weren’t for his girlfriend fearing she would be next and squealing,” he shrugged one shoulder, “it would have been a helluva lot longer.”

  “What are your plans for tonight, Dev?”

  Devilos glanced at one of his closest friends and lieutenants. Connar’s thick shiny chestnut hair was a draw for the ladies. Every time Dev saw one near him, she was forking her fingers through the heavy locks groaning like she was coming.

  The same as Bowie and Dev, Connar was as big and strong as a tank. All of Dev’s lieutenants, true bred warriors, were immense, powerfully built males without an ounce of fat. Heavy chests and lean hips, they were continuously barraged by brazen women.

  “Ah, I have work to do. The Naledi-Sarkastodons, Nal-Sarks, have been raiding the smaller planets again to capture slaves for their mines. I have a request from L-Rign to look into it. I need to spend the night researching.”

  A low thrum of hubbub filled the bridge from conversations between staff as they prattled to each other and as they spoke into communication devices.

  “Craw Dev, you work too fucking hard. I know you’re the rough tough kill ‘em and chill ‘em guy, but even the devil needs to take a break.” He grinned at Dev. “Besides, má bráthair, you don’t take orders from anyone.”

  Devilos nodded in agreement. “True that. But you know it’s easier to work with the L-Rign than against them and incur planetary sanctions. Basically we’re after the same things. I want to take out every one of those fucking Nal-Sarks.”

  “So-”

  “Sire.” Connar was cut off by Elvana, a spectra officer. Sitting at Communications, she swiveled on her chair and said, “There is a request from a Svetiessa Ritrova of Qoph.” She turned back to her monitor not catching the flicker in Dev’s dark eyes.

  He walked over to her and clipped sharply, “What is it?”

  Exceptionally tall, Elvana, part human Asian and part Ulexia, crossed her willowy legs and tapped the monitor. “Um, she says she would desire to- to trade one of our captured lieutenants, Miles Dontour.”

  A raven brow rose. “For whom?”

  She tapped his words on the monitor. Her head cocked as she read the response. Tucking black hair like stiff oil that fell past her shoulders behind her ears, she nodded and said, “Ms. Ritrova indicates she wants to transport here with Miles and trade him for Kaeto Kincaid.”

  His face remaining impassive, Dev looked over at Connar. His lieutenant expressed his surprise.

  Connar trod quickly to his Sire and friend. “That Spireling assassin? Why would she want him?”

  Crossing his bur
ly arms, Dev answered, “He has minimal powers that under rare, certain circumstances can be taken from him by those that have the same level powers thereby increasing the strength of the stealer’s powers.”

  Bowie had entered the bridge with another lieutenant, Lukas Martial.

  Overhearing the request, Bowie said as he approached, “We hadn’t been able to locate Miles for months. We didn’t know if he was dead or alive. Dev, he’s worth a million Kincaids.”

  His skewed glance at his friend filled with a cagey tease, he added, “Ah, and the Prințesă Ritrova in person as the bonus cherry on top? How can you refuse?”

  Dev was silent. The thrum of noise desisted. All attention was on the four strapping warriors. Several silent seconds passed.

  “Sire?” Elvana prodded. “She has resent the request and is waiting for your response.”

  Dev was looking at the spectra but wasn’t seeing her, his dark eyes were blank discs as he thought. Recalling the extraordinary woman from the party, while hunting the latest villain, he had kept eyes and ears out for word of the location of the Prințesă. As well as Miles was a good and loyal lieutenant. Two in one.

  “Tell her yes. When?” He waited while Elvana transmitted his response.

  Minutes passed before she said, “Ms. Ritrova says she knows Kincaid is on board here in our brig. She says they can be transported here in fifteen minutes.” She turned to Dev. “What say you, Sire?”

  “Confirm.”

  “Aye Sire.” Elvana transmitted the information and gave the navigational coordinates for the transporting.

  Dev ordered, “Connar, get Tomi and retrieve Kincaid. Make sure the chains are secure.”

  “Copy.” The light splashed on Connar’s chestnut hair as he nodded and immediately left the bridge. The doors whooshed open before he reached them and closed directly after he passed through.