“You should get some actual rest before you begin again.” I nod, yawning on cue.
I nod at the others as I plod through the room, heading for the bed. The last few weeks, hell maybe my entire life, are finally catching up to me. Crawling under the covers, I’m almost asleep before my body even settles. Just as darkness is pulling me under, I hear him.
“I love you too, Angel.” There goes the rest of my heart.
I dream of flying and war, of joy and sadness, life and death. It is the music that wakes me. Blinking, I realize I’m curled into his side. One of his arms is around me, the other is thrown up over his head. Easing up one inch at a time, I manage to make it off the bed without waking him. It only took what seems like hours, but I wasn’t the only one that needed to rest.
Evander is stretched out on the couch, the sadness still marring his face, even in sleep. I feel the sharp stabbing pain of guilt.
“Lillian.” My name said low so not to wake the others draws my eyes out the balcony door.
Luc is sitting on a lounge chair, looking deceptively relaxed, watching over us. I choose the chair beside him, letting the sun warm me, missing Torryn’s heat and feeling decidedly cold without him.
“How are you?” How am I? Good question.
I don’t really know how to answer. On one hand I’m happy, excited, even hopeful. On the other, I’m terrified, overwhelmed, and unsure. Chewing at my lip, I watch him in my peripheral. He looks tired, his eternal youthful handsomeness seems slightly dulled.
“How are you?” His mouth opens but he pauses, shutting it. Interesting.
I feel a wash of his power and turning my head, I look at him directly. “This is a conversation maybe better just between us.” I look around, we haven’t moved. “A cone of silence.” He chuckles at his own joke, I have no idea what it means. “Right. I was going to give you the standard answer. Fine. Devil. King of Hell, bullshit, but I…” His words stumble to a stop.
I’m both floored and grateful. He chose me, and I understand just a small amount of how lonely he must be.
“You need a friend.” I reach for his hand, pausing just above it. Torryn had told me he was rarely touched. I’m not sure if it’s because he doesn’t like it or he’s just terrifying. Hands cover mine as I ponder the thought, and I look up, he’s smiling gently.
Here, before me in this instant is The Morningstar, glorious bringer of light. Walking talking temptation. I smile bigger because I can do nothing else.
“Would you be my friend?” He seems unsure of my answer, when I could have only one.
“I would love to be your friend.” Staring in my eyes, he searches for something, visibly relaxing when he finds it.
“I’m tired. Tired of the war. Tired of being me. Of who they think me to be.” He breaking my heart but steeling my resolve.
“What can I do?” He shakes his head. “I’m going to find them. I promise.” He raises an eyebrow.
He leaves the whole don’t make a promise bit unspoken. “I know you will.”
“What will you do? When it’s done?” He shakes his head.
“Guess it depends on the outcome.” I suppose that’s true for us all.
“Could you go back?”
“I’m not sure if I’d want to.” He turns and looks behind us into the room. “They are awake.” Looking over my shoulder, I see both standing at the door concerned, then the power fades and they step out.
Neither ask.
“We were trying to be quiet so you could sleep longer.” Eyes narrow as they try to hear any deception in my words. Holding out my hand, I let Torryn pull me up. “I’m going to eat real quick then get in the air. The song woke me up.” He nods, kissing me hard before letting me go.
Glancing back after I move around him, I wink at my new friend.
Once again, it’s grown dark hours later when I drop down onto a mountain top, in the distance I can see bright lights. Lights that shine straight up into the sky surrounded by darkness it is like a beacon.
Torryn has flown at my side for hours. In the beginning, he did just as I did in Heaven, swooping, diving and playing. Then he settled in, never questioning when I flew in circles trying to pinpoint the exact location. At times, the song would fade, going quiet and then moments later blast so loud I felt like my ears would bleed. The first time he had to catch me when in my shock and pain, I began to tumble toward the ground. After that, he stayed as close as our wings will allow.
“Well, shit, you’ve got to be kidding me.” I look over at him as I catch my breath.
“What?”
“It’s Vegas.” I look back at the lights.
I’ve heard of Las Vegas. Lots of sinners. Lots of sinning.
He’s on the phone with Evander, who was driving while tracking Torryn’s phone. The music slowly fades away as I watch the sky begin to lighten; morning has come once again.
It grows quiet after he hangs up, just the distant yipping of an animal.
“Evander wants us to go to the penthouse the company owns on the strip.” I have no idea what he’s talking about but I nod. “Are you alright?”
“The song is gone. This is as close as I can get you all.” He comes around standing in front of me blocking the lights.
“This is more than enough. You don’t have to do it all by yourself, Angel. Hell, maybe we can take the day off. Let Dagen look.”
“Dagen?” He nods. “Dagen.” Whatever he hears in that word makes him grin.
“Come on, let’s go tell him.” He leaps into the air, gliding down hundreds of feet before he begins to flap his wings. His laughter floats up to me and I have a feeling Dagen might not be as excited as Torryn is. “Are you coming?” He turns, starting to fly back to me.
Stepping to the edge, I turn my back to him and let myself fall off the edge, free falling until I rotate, opening my wings and let them catch the air.
“Jesus, you’re fucking crazy, and I love it,” he calls out.
“I love you,” I call back and watch as he falters for a second. Silly demon.
As we draw closer, fear tingles down my spine. They will be here. They will be hunting. People will die.
43
Lucifer
Las Vegas. Of course. Dagen fucking lives there, for God’s sake.
My lips twitch at my thought. I mean what else can He do to me, right? I don’t even fucking care anymore. He’s gone checked out. Left the rest of us to deal with the shit-storm He created, literally.
I glance at the bed on the other side of the room. This could be a huge mistake. Or it could be exactly what is needed. I keep going in circles, unable to decide, and I’m running out of time.
He could hate me for it. My mind whispers to me. He could, I agree with myself. Or I could be saving him. Shaking my head, I look over again, I’m arguing with myself. I could go ask Lillian.
Fuck, one conversation, and I’m already dependent on her. Christ, Lucifer, just make up your fucking mind. Okay, yes. I’m going to do it. Grimacing, I look again, please let this be the right decision.
Stalking out and away, I make my way to the edge of this realm, to the very boundary of my domain. There just beyond the invisible walls is the darkness, the void where those without human souls go for eternity. Or until I pull them from it.
Seven times, I’ve flung my power into the nothingness and pulled those that were needed, that were deserving, free.
Time to do it once more.
Closing my eyes, I focus on the one I seek, ignore the others that call for me. There, shining like a beacon in the nothingness. I smile, yes this is the right decision.
Latching on, I pull it to me and hold it close as I make my way back to the room. Standing beside the bed, I look down at her pale form, still perfect, still heavenly.
It is the last that gives me pause, that makes me worry. The others lost the very essence of that when I brought them back. They are truly of Hell, demons through and through. They fought years to control the darker
aspects of their natures. She will have to do the same.
I place the light on the body, watching as it sinks in. Now, I wait. Some took longer than others. I flinch when she gasps, unprepared for the quickness of her awakening. Her body jackknifes up, and her crimson eyes lock on me.
“Grace?” Chest heaving, she stares. “Grace, do you remember me?”
“Lucifer.” The deep growl doesn’t match the angelic look. “What have you done?” Claws lengthen as she hops onto her feet, squatting on the bed, preparing to leap.
“I freed you from the darkness, brought you back.” Another growl. “For another chance.” This time she does leap, I barely catch her wrist before she shreds my face.
“I feel different.” Anger leaks from her and so does power. The room bursts into flames as anything small flies around us. “Dark. Hungry. Angry.”
“I know. I promise I’ll help you with that. Or I could get Evander.” Teeth lengthen.
“No.” She jumps off me as I try to contain the flames. My heart plummets when she skitters into a corner, hiding her face in it.
“He loves you.” I say it softly as I draw closer to her.
“He loved her.” She glares at me over her shoulder. “I’m not her.”
I would argue but I know it will do no good right now. So instead, I sit on the floor near her. I’ve seen humans do it will wild and frightened animals, and right now, she is both wild and frightened.
Minutes turn to hours which turn to days. I refuse to leave her, and she refuses to acknowledge my existence.
I’ve replaced everything in the room many, many times after she destroys it. Her eyes have yet to fade from red.
“I’m going to go but I’ll be back very soon.” Her eyes narrow. “I promise.” She turns and gives me her back. I smile at her defiance.
I flash away, having walled up the door many days ago after I had to chase her through half of Hell.
I wait until Torryn leaves to help Dagen search. They are no closer than they were the first day, but Lillian insists this is the right place. Normally she goes with them, but I called her earlier so she told them she wanted to stay in just for tonight.
Knocking on the door, I wait for her to let me in, instead of popping right into the room. She smiles and wraps me in her arms after the door swings open.
“Where have you been?” She looks me up and down. “What’s wrong?”
“Do I look that bad?” I chuckle as she nods over and over. “I need your help with something in Hell.”
She blinks, “In Hell?” I nod. “For how long?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure. But I can bring you back every day.”
“Okay, let me call him and tell him. He’ll freak if he comes back and I’m gone. We don’t need a demon tearing through the tourists.”
I don’t know why I’m surprised by her quick agreement but I am.
Several I love you’s later, she turns to me. “Ready.”
I feel like I should warn her but I don’t know what to say, or how to say it. This is my last option to reach Grace, other than Evander, which I’m afraid will only make it worse.
“This is really bad, isn’t it?”
Instead of answering, I take her to the room.
“Shit, what is going on?”
She ducks as things fly through the air toward us. As soon as she speaks, they fall to the floor. Movement in the shadows catches her eye, and she squints at the form she can just make out.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” The smoky voice calls out to me just as she steps into the light.
“Grace?” Incredulous is how I would describe her.
“Lillian.” The first flicker of iridescent appears and then is quickly replaced by ruby.
About the Author
S Lawrence is an emerging author of paranormal memoirs. She is a mom, a wife, a veteran and a fangirl. She lives just outside New Orleans and can be often found wandering the streets of the Quarter.
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The Devil Dark
C.C. Dowling
Law of Three Series:
Kate Dark Book 1
The Devil Dark © 2019 C.C. Dowling
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Created with Vellum
The Devil Dark
Would you become Hell’s ultimate weapon to save your best friend?
Ex-warlock Kate Dark has sworn off ever using magick again. The last time she did, someone died, and a deal was made with the Devil for her soul. It’s a debt she never intends to pay. Vowing a life of celibacy from magick is the only way to stay hidden. But when her best friend is kidnapped by a man who should be dead, and four sexy warlocks try and convince Kate to reclaim her magick, she knows the time for hiding is over.
Now, Kate must choose whether to embrace her power, accept the past, and trade her soul to make good on a deal with the devil—her father—or let the life she’s built, and her best friend, burn.
The Devil Dark is book 1 of a twisted #WhyChoose paranormal romance series guaranteed to leave you spellbound. Reader note: this book ends on a cliffhanger, and continues with book 2 in the series.
1
“What happened?” I said, the anger in my voice betraying my mood. And my heritage.
Without answering, my best friend crumpled into a heap at the foot of my bed. I drug her to her feet, plopped her down on the mattress, only then putting my arm around her like I was supposed to do. Tenderness and compassion were never my strong suits. I blame my genetics.
Being the daughter of the Devil would make anyone a real asshole.
“Claudia.” Her name tumbled cold and sharp from my lips, my tone meant to snap her out of her panic, meant to help her focus. It worked.
With glossy, red-rimmed brown eyes, my best friend in the whole world stared at me with the kind of trust reserved for better people. It was as if she knew I was going to help her. Keep her safe. Make whoever fucked with her pay.
“What. Happened?” My teeth clacked together on the question, my threadbare patience worn see-through.
She slowly pulled her arms from her chest, the red marks and imminent bruising evident from wrists to elbow. Probably higher, but her shirt obscured the rest.
“H-He hurt me, Kate.” The sob that tore from her throat would’ve broken lesser, more tender hearts.
“Who hurt you? Where?” My eyes skimmed over her wrinkled clothes, her shirt torn at the collar, her shorts dirty and—
“Is that blood?” I reached for her shorts.
Claudia pulled away, her eyes wide and wild. She curled in on herself, fetal position, on my bed. That’s when I noticed the back of her shorts. They were stained brown between her legs—red mixed with the green fabric.
At that moment I knew—in the same way evil knows its purpose and good always chooses no harm—what had happened to my best friend. What I would have to do to fix this. To avenge her.
Thirteen was too young for something like that to have been taken
from her. Too young to think of cold-blooded murder. Yet here we both were.
The lights in my room flickered as I pushed off the bed to stand. Claudia didn’t seem to notice, which was good. Revealing magick to a mundane was forbidden, mostly because it never went well.
“Who. Was. It?” My voice reverberated in the air, shook the lamp on my desk next to my bed, rattled the pictures on my wall.
She muttered a name in a small, weak voice. It was loud enough that I heard.
Bullying my way into my closet, I tossed aside piles of clothes until I reached a small chest. I used a safety pin to prick my finger, then used the drop of blood to unlock the chest. Inside was my grimoire, a book of spells passed down through my mother’s line. She had stolen it from her mother, who had stolen it from her grandmother before she ran away to the mundane world. I took it from her, hid it during our last move.
The women in our bloodline were long ago forbidden to possess any remnants of light magick, like a grimoire. They weren’t supposed to make a deal with the Devil, either. The Darks had never been known to follow the rules.
Like mother—and her mother, and her mother—like daughters.
My fingertips skimmed the worn leather. Power pulsed through my veins, darkening them like my namesake. “Don’t worry, Claudia,” my mouth said, my mind hazy from the fresh hit of dark magick. “I’ll make sure he never touches you again.”
2
The alarms buzzes, waking me from a deep sleep. From a dream.
No, a memory.
Slapping the snooze button, I scrub my face and moan. Mondays are the worst. Why can’t every weekend be three days? Or seven?
A pair of warm, strong arms wrap around me, pull me into a body built for sin, as the last vestiges of my shadowed dream fade against the light of day.
Shadows and Sorcery: A Collection of Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 89