The Devil's Angel: A Paranormal Vampire Romance Novel (Devil Series Book 2)

by Raven Steele

  The Devil’s Angel

  The Devil Series Book 2

  Raven Steele

  The Devil’s Angel

  A Paranormal Vampire Romance 2

  * * *

  A novel by

  Raven Steele

  www.RavenSteele.net

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or part, by mimeograph or any other means, without the permission of the Publisher. Making or distributing electronic copies of this book constitutes copyright infringement and could subject the infringer to criminal and civil liability.

  * * *

  Cover design by Covers by Juan

  Printed in the United States of America

  * * *

  Copyright © 2018 by Raven Steele

  All rights reserved

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  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

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Books by Raven Steele:

  Newsletter Sign Up

  About the Author

  "And so it is, that both the Devil and the angelic Spirit present us with objects of desire to awaken our power of choice."

  - Rumi

  Chapter 1

  Lucien’s bones spoke of the storm hours before it came. It was always that way with him, his body telling him things before they happened. Sometimes he listened, sometimes he didn’t. Tonight, he was all ears.

  But it wasn’t just the storm; something else was coming, and it frightened him. And Lucien didn’t frighten easily, not even when those two men had attacked him with that Saranton knife and left him for dead. It was how he was rescued that disturbed him the most. It was also how he had sensed the presence of something following him around for the last several months. He thought maybe it was some kind of a poltergeist, but he hadn’t felt threatened by it. A poltergeist he could understand, maybe even appreciate, but this new something upset him.

  He stood in the center of a long alleyway between two warehouses, casting his gaze upward so he could watch the storm clouds creep across the night sky until they had entirely engulfed the stars and the moon. That’s the way it was with darkness. It always destroyed light.

  A sharp pain scratched at his stomach like a rat gnawing on a piece of leather. The pain, like always, gave him comfort, though he never understood why. All he knew was that pain had become his constant and only companion for centuries.

  Lucien knew nothing else in life but pain and suffering. The concept of hope was foreign to him and belonged in a world that was not his. He wondered if somewhere within his suppressed memories he would find the answer to his self-inflicted torture. But the pain always intensified whenever he tried to recall his forbidden past.

  A lightning bolt tore across the night sky. There was no sound; it was quick and electrifying. His hair stood on end. The salty smell in the air filled him with anticipation as he waited for the monstrous storm overhead to release its fury.

  A sudden clicking of heels against asphalt startled him, and he dropped his gaze away from the contentious storm. In the same instant, his nose picked up on a new scent. It was the aroma of the oncoming storm, but laced with the fragrance of budding lilacs.

  A tall, thin woman walked confidently past the old train station next to the marina, a large bag swinging carelessly at her side. She casually looked around as if she had nowhere to be and wasn’t in any hurry to get there. The time was 1:00 a.m. A cold breeze pushed its way through the streets, twisting the hair around the woman’s face.

  It was his passion to watch approaching storms, the way darkness crept silently over the sky, building in pressure, and finally climaxing into an explosion of bright luminosity and thunderous roars. But tonight, the sight of the extraordinary woman strolling aimlessly through the filth of the city captivated him. He silently moved away from the back of the alley, still safely within the dark shadows, in order to keep watching her.

  She was exquisitely beautiful. Lucien thought she was more beautiful than any other woman he had ever encountered. Her long golden hair hung in loose curls to the middle of her uncovered back. Despite the distance between them, he could see her eyes were a rare sea-green color. The color reminded him of a deep tide pool he found once in Ireland that had been filled with open oyster shells. When the light from the sun touched the shells’ polished surfaces, they gave the water the most glorious shade of green he’d ever seen — until now. He thought it strange that she would make him think of Ireland, his birthplace.

  The woman stopped suddenly, directly in front of the alleyway entrance, which was only three feet across, wall to wall. Her jade eyes peered inside, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth. He pressed himself against the building as if she could see him. That’s ridiculous. No human eyes could see him; it was much too dark, especially with the clouds overhead.

  He inhaled a deep breath and relaxed more fully into the night. He must have imagined the smile, for she had already turned away and headed back the way she came.

  Lucien didn’t want to hurt her, but he felt it necessary to scare her senseless. She should not be here in this dirty place, ever. He stepped out of the shadows to confront her but quickly retreated when he sensed someone approaching who didn’t share the same feeling about her as he did.

  A man dressed in dirty brown and orange clothing approached the woman. His long hair was a mess of dirt and grime, and his feet shuffled one over the other awkwardly. Clearly, he was inebriated. The woman did not seem to recognize the impending danger as she strolled toward the drunken man.

  “Give me some money,” the transient slurred, spittle spraying from his mouth.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t have a dime for you.”

  “What’s in your purse?” His tone turned hard.

  “Oh, I have plenty of money,” she clarified sweetly, “but none of it is for you. I apologize for not being more clear.”

  Lucien couldn’t help but smirk, but at the same time wondered why the woman wasn’t being more careful.

  The man stepped forward, his fists balled tight. “Give me your purse, or I’ll rip that pretty little dress off.”

>   She stood her ground, showing no fear. “You are ridiculous. Get out of my way.”

  The drunken man lunged for the woman, grabbing her roughly around the waist.

  Lucien didn’t like the way the transient touched her. This thought startled him, but he pushed the emotion back. He stepped out from the alley and cleared his throat. The man looked in his direction, eyes growing big when he noticed Lucien’s height and large stature. The man’s hands dropped to his sides, and he stumbled off as fast as his unstable legs permitted.

  Lucien’s gaze flashed to the woman. In that brief instant, he heard, as clear as the thunder above, her heart stop. Her face showed no emotion, but her heart betrayed her. She appeared to recognize his confusion and quickly recovered. She looked down at her roughed up dress and sighed. Her long, slender fingers smoothed the angry creases.

  “Are you all right?” he asked in a velvet voice. He was aware of the effect he had on women. His appearance and demeanor could hypnotize.

  The woman didn’t bat an eye. “I’m fine, sir. Thank you for assisting me.”

  She turned to leave.

  “Wait,” he called after her, confused. He strolled over to her. “That must have been upsetting. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  He flashed his perfect smile and waited for her to swoon. Then he would show her what scary really was. That would make her think twice before wandering through the wrong side of town at such a late hour.

  “Of course I’m fine. I thought I was lost, but now I know where I am. Again, thank you.” She walked right by him.

  Lucien noted she hadn’t even looked at him. Impossible! This wasn’t going the way he expected. He moved at lightning speed in front of her. She gasped in surprise. Now that was more like it.

  She gained her composure but still did not show any fear. “Very impressive. I’ll have to remember that one.”

  She walked by him. Again.

  He growled low. He wasn’t having the impact on her he would’ve liked. He darted in front of her and said, “I’m going to kill you.”

  That should scare her.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m serious. I’m going to rip your head off and drink every last drop of blood.”

  “Because you’re a vampire,” she stated, arching one eyebrow.

  He couldn’t tell if she was mocking him or if she really believed that he was, in fact, a vampire. “What if I am?”

  “We all have our issues,” she said.

  She moved to pass him again, but he blocked her and cocked his head, eyes narrowed. “You’re not predictable.”

  “That’s great. Now can I get by?” she asked, clearly annoyed.

  He tightened his lips. “You’re not acting the way you should.”

  “How am I supposed to act?”

  “You’re supposed to be afraid and run away.”

  The woman set down her bag. “And what exactly should I be afraid of? You’re a messed-up vampire hiding out in the worst part of town, and you’re trying to scare me away because... why? My presence has ruined some imaginary world you’ve created? Any other vampire would’ve had his fangs in me by now.”

  Lucien’s stare turned cold and deadly. His teeth clenched tight, and his jaw muscles bulged. Only his older brother had ever spoken to him in such a condescending manner, and that was over three hundred years ago.

  Before she could blink, Lucien rushed the woman, slamming into her hard. He clenched her shoulders tightly, lifted her up, and raced across the dirty pavement, running faster than he had in years. The force of the air behind her caused her hair to blow wildly around her face. Had he not been so angry, he might’ve appreciated how angelic she looked in that moment.

  He sprinted, lightning-quick, his aim on the wall of the train station. They hit it hard, and the woman’s head jerked back against the bricks with a sickening thud, but she barely flinched.

  Inches from her face, he spat, “You dare mock me?”

  She didn’t answer, but returned his look with equal venom.

  “Your life is nothing to me!” He lifted his head back and, with fangs barred, prepared to bite.

  Chapter 2

  The woman’s expression remained calm, despite Lucien’s bared, sharp fangs. Instead of cowering, she tilted her head to the side, revealing her long slender neck. He reared back as if she was the one with fangs.

  “You want to die?”

  “What do you want?” she countered, her voice quiet, almost sad.

  Her question startled him more than anything else that night. He leaned away from her, not sure what he wanted any more. Her emerald eyes stared into his, as if searching for something. He didn’t like it, so he tossed her to the side.

  Lucien darted away before she could get up. By the time she had recovered, he was three buildings away standing on a rooftop. The storm had finally released its fury, dropping sheets of rain at a maddening pace.

  He flexed his jaw and tried to understand what had just happened. Why wasn’t the woman afraid of him, especially knowing what he was? She acted like it was common to encounter vampires, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. Vampires were a myth. Nobody believed in them.

  The woman turned just then and walked back toward the marina, seemingly oblivious to the pouring rain soaking her hair and dress. Her eyebrows were pulled tightly together as if she were... angry? Frustrated? He couldn’t be sure which, but she didn’t look happy. Or scared.

  Lucien knew the woman would eventually walk up the main road two blocks away and then go to wherever she lived. No sane person would stay out in this rain for very long. He inhaled quickly at a new and startling thought: he knew what he wanted.

  He jumped to a nearby rooftop and followed her. This action was completely unlike him, but he had to know more about her, almost as if to prove their strange encounter had actually happened. Maybe he had dramatized her actions and words, misconstrued them somehow. Maybe she really was like everyone else and not some enigma. Once he proved this to himself, he would never see her again.

  Life could return to normal.

  As he jumped from rooftop to rooftop to follow her, he thought there was something familiar about her movements. They were graceful and full of purpose. She didn’t have the usual nervous ticks such as the licking of lips or wiping at the face or invisible dust motes. He swore he’d seen these mannerisms before, but she didn’t look the least bit familiar.

  The woman continued to walk, moving skillfully through the wet and lonely streets of Seattle. The way she navigated herself with ease made him think she’d lived here for years. But then how had he missed her?

  She stopped at a black door belonging to a four-story building and glanced around before slipping inside. Lucien jumped down, landing as if it were only a three-foot drop rather than a forty-foot descent. There were no signs giving away the nature of the business, no hours of operation, only one small word engraved upon the door in gold: “Deific.”

  He traced the elaborate writing with his finger.

  The doorknob turned.

  He leapt into the sky and onto the roof. The woman came out, her arms free from the bag she carried earlier, and continued down the street for at least another mile. Lucien wondered why she hadn’t called a cab yet. It was unheard of to walk such a distance in Seattle, especially at night. And in the rain. After being attacked by a vampire.

  Everything about this woman disturbed him. She wasn’t acting normal.

  The tall city buildings gradually turned into suburb shopping centers and eventually only large rows of cookie-cutter houses remained. She stopped in front of an old colonial-style home. The house was light blue with dark blue trim and shutters to match. Its yard was simple and neat. Only a wooden chair rested on the porch by the front door.

  Across the street, Lucien jumped into a full Oak tree to conceal himself.

  The woman reached to the side of the nearest window and flicked her hand. To the average spectator, it might have a
ppeared as if she were wiping off something from the home’s siding, but Lucien noticed the glimmer of a key in her hand. It must’ve been hiding between the slats. After unlocking the door, she paused, turned around and gazed into the night—in his exact direction.

  He gripped the tree tightly. Something inside him told him she was looking right at him regardless of the tree’s full foliage. The corners of her mouth tilted down slightly as if she’d been let down somehow, and then she closed the door.

  Lucien jumped to the ground and leaned against the tree. On the second floor of the home, four windows with sheer curtains made it possible for him to catch a glimpse of the woman’s silhouette as she passed by. Few sounds drifted from the house: papers being shuffled, dishes clanking, but mostly, it was quiet. She didn’t make noises like most humans. He expected to hear an occasional cough or a sigh, but her silence was total.

  He sensed no other life in the house except for hers. He wasn’t sure how old she was but guessed her to be in her mid-twenties and in excellent shape. He recalled back to when he had tossed her aside. She’d barely stumbled; it was as if she had been barefoot and not wearing three-inch heels.