Bad Boys of the Underworld Box Set

by Jacey Ward

  How could it? He was living the wrong life and definitely in the wrong place.

  But Cassiel had a purpose that day, the same one which had followed him from the depths of the Hell and into this new unspeakable nightmare; Detroit, Michigan.

  It had not been Cass’ first choice of locations, of course.

  Initially, he had been dropped in the underbelly of Rio, but slowly he had made his way north, trying to win his wager with Lucifer as he went.

  The streets here reek of despair and desperation, he thought. But hopefully this is the place where I will find what I need to regain my freedom and make peace with what I have become.

  In his head, Lucifer howled, cackling maniacally.

  “Time is running out, friend,” the Lord of the Underworld cooed in his ear. “I would say that you are no closer to finding your way than you were three weeks ago.”

  Cass loathed to admit that the demon was right, but he dared not battle with Satan. It would only be an exercise in futility.

  He stared over the fence at West Jefferson Street, the lights of Windsor blinking indifferently across the river and as he paused to look, Cass wondered if Canada should be his next stop. Surely nothing could be worse than the city in which he found himself presently.

  “It doesn’t matter where you go,” Lucifer purred. “The result will be the same – “

  “Lucky, do you not have something else to occupy your time down there? Why are you watching me?” Cass snapped. There was a sharp intake of breath, as if Cass had hurt his feelings.

  “I am protecting my investment,” he retorted back, and Cass rolled his grey eyes heavenward.

  “Stop that!” Lucifer yelled. “God cannot help you now! It’s just you and me for eternity!”

  “You’re dreaming,” Cass replied, trying to inject as much confidence into his statement as he could. He could almost hear Lucifer’s scowl, but to his satisfaction, the demon stopped rambling.

  A car sped by, splashing him even from this distance, and Cass felt a strange pleasure as the cold, soiled droplets splashed across him.

  When he had walked the earth freely, he had loathed the cold.

  Times had been different then, of course.

  He hadn’t yet experienced the agony of burning in Hell.

  How many years had it been since I have felt the ground at my feet?

  “Two hundred twenty earthly years,” Lucifer answered in his head, and Cass stifled a groan. He had hoped he had warded him off, at least for a short time.

  “Hey man.”

  Cass looked up at the stranger approaching him and instantly he sensed trouble within the shifty eyed young man.

  He looked no more than twenty, a red bandana wrapped around his head, under a ballcap. He wore nothing more than a thin jacket over an even thinner tank top.

  He must be cold, Cass thought idly, but the boy looked anything but cold. He was jumpy as if he was trying to free himself from his own skin.

  “Hello,” he replied, eyeing the unkempt stranger.

  “You looking to buy?”

  The question puzzled Cass but he did not show his confusion.

  A peddler? Where are his wares?

  He looked about for a cart or vehicle of any sort, but he saw nothing and as the man drew closer, Cass was overwhelmed by a sense of evil.

  He was no ordinary seller.

  It would not be the first time Cass had encountered trouble, not on earth nor in the otherworld, and while he was fully prepared to contend with whatever was on the boy’s mind, he would rather not see any conflict that day.

  Not when time was running out for him.

  “I am not searching for anything to purchase,” Cass replied, turning his attention back toward the polluted river, hoping that his body language would speak for itself.

  But the boy wanted more than a simple refusal.

  “I got whatever you’re looking for,” he insisted. “Ox, Molly, weed…”

  He paused and studied Cass’ face with pale blue eyes, a contrast to the caramel of his skin. He seemed impossibly innocent looking and yet, he stood there, with definitely unpure thoughts on his mind.

  If not for the almost palpable malice emanating from the depth of the boy’s soul, Cass would have mistaken his attractiveness as angelic.

  And yet Nathaniel is an angel, he thought with some bitterness.

  “Hey! I asked you a question!” the pusher snapped, his body almost touching Cass’ as he slammed his too lean body against the fence. “What you want?”

  “I do not require anything at this time,” Cass sighed again, turning away, annoyed that his fleeting peace had been ruined.

  To his surprise, the man reached out to grab him, fist entwining through his soaked leather jacket.

  It was then that Cass felt the cold steel of a gun barrel against his ribs.

  “But I bet you got money on ya, dontcha?” he rasped. “Gimme what you got, and I won’t kill you.”

  Cass swallowed one more groan of irritation.

  “You do not wish to do this,” he explained, checking his temper as he eyed the mugger.

  “Shut the fuck up, Bambi and give me what you got,” he snarled, digging the barrel of the gun deeper into Cass’ back.

  The demon rolled his eyes, but not argue, reaching into the depths of his pocket to retrieve the wad of cash that was stowed there.

  They are ill gotten gains anyway, he thought, handing it over to the young felon. Maybe it would serve to bring some kind of goodness to the kid’s life.

  “That all you got?” the kid demanded. “What about a watch? You got a watch? Hurry the fuck up!”

  He seemed to be growing more agitated by the minute, but Cass wasn’t bothered. It wasn’t as if the man could kill him, no matter how hard he tried.

  Another car drove past, and Cass turned to look as the driver peered curiously out the window.

  To his shock, the assailant turned and pointed the firearm toward the woman.

  Cass watched as her face turned opaque with fear and the car seemed to slow as she froze in shock.

  “What are you looking at, bitch?” he screamed, waving the gun wildly. “Get the fuck out of here.”

  “There is no need to threaten her,” Cass sighed conversationally. “Your quarrel is with me, although I cannot say why. I have given you all I have. You may be on your way now.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” he screeched, but to Cass’ relief, he turned his attention back toward him. “I’ll leave when I’m good and fucking ready.”

  He inhaled shakily.

  “Where’s your watch?” he demanded, and Cass shrugged.

  “I have no use for time,” he replied evenly.

  “You have no use for time!” Lucifer laughed in his head. “You are wasting time right now indulging this fool instead of ending this charade. If I did not know better, Cassiel, I would say you have no desire to ever leave the world in which you have been cast. I think you rather prefer being a demon.”

  Cass cringed.

  “You have everything you need,” Cass told the man quietly. “Go now.”

  A cold fury washed over his face.

  “You telling me what to do, motherfucker?” he asked, cocking the pistol and raising it in a way he could have only seen in some terrible gangster flick. “No ass fucker tells me what to do.”

  “You do not want to do this,” Cass told him evenly. “Go now.”

  The boy aimed the weapon and fired once, his face contorted in rage.

  Nothing happed and Cass shook his dark curls.

  “You see? This is an exercise in futility.”

  To his surprise, the boy tried again.

  Of course, the gun was jammed.

  “What the fuck?” he growled. His anger seemed to be mounting and he stepped toward Cass, the butt of the gun raised.

  “If you do this,” Cass told him. “You will regret – “

  The cold steel smashed into the side of his face and Cass almost collapsed onto t
he muddy grass as his assaulter turned to flee.

  Through bleary eyes, Cass shot his arm out, grabbing hold of the thug’s shirt and whirling him back around, dragging the guy’s face to within an inch of his own.

  “I warned you,” he growled, right into the boy’s face. He allowed his eyes to change, flashing to demon red, and got some small satisfaction as he saw the boy’s eyes widen with alarm. Then he pushed an image into the boy’s mind of his own death if he didn’t change his life course soon, his skin peeling back from his bones, his drug addicted face drooping with disease. The boy pissed his pants, trembling violently as he watched the end of his own life.

  Cass pushed him away suddenly, throwing him to the wet pavement. The boy rose unsteadily, running off, glancing over his shoulder as if he expected Cass to be chasing him. Cass felt a little ill at what he had allowed himself to do, the influence of being surrounded by torture and agony for decades obviously causing him to become more hardened.

  “Are you going to let him get away?” Lucifer asked, his voice wrought with disbelief. “Stop him!”

  Thankfully, Lucky could not know what I did to the boy.

  That was the most important part; not letting Satan see him acting demonic.

  “We had a deal,” Cass replied evenly. “I cannot use my powers.”

  “The deal pertains to – “

  “I do not wish to pursue it,” Cass interrupted flatly, falling back against the building and touching his hand to his face.

  There was a lot of blood and he stayed there, waiting for the pain to subside. But in a strange way, Cass was enjoying the pain. He had been so numb for so long. The agony throbbing through his head made him feel, well, alive.

  “Go!” Lucifer growled. “What sort of demon allows someone to get away with such a thing? Go stop him!”

  “No.”

  “Your stubbornness is the reason you are in this position in the first place,” the demon reminded him.

  “These are your conditions,” Cass answered, wishing Satan would stop talking.

  “You jammed the weapon,” Lucifer replied. “What is the difference if you hunt him down and kill him? You already used your powers for one thing.”

  “Protecting my life and exacting revenge are two very different concepts. Anyway, I did not jam the gun.”

  It was a lie, of course, but he did not want to further argue semantics with the king of dispute.

  “Uh huh,” Lucifer replied skeptically.

  “Lucky, please go away,” Cass groaned. “You are cheating by being in my head.”

  “I am the devil, my boy,” he snapped. “I will win any which way I must.”

  “Ah,” Cass laughed sharply. “So, you admit you must cheat to win against me. That does not speak well to your prowess, Lucky.”

  A long silence filled his mind and Cass knew he had incensed the Lord, but he made no apologies.

  The result would be well worth it when he won.

  “One day you will go too far, Cassiel, and it will not go well for you.”

  But he was gone, and Cass was surprised there was not more fire and brimstone attached to his departure.

  How long have I bought myself before he returns? A day? Two days? More likely an hour.

  However long it was, Cass hoped it was enough time for him to secure his future.

  “Are you hurt? I have called the police.”

  He opened his eyes and stared at the woman who had passed by in the car moments earlier.

  “Oh, no,” he muttered, struggling to not groan with annoyance. “I am unharmed.”

  “Thank God!” she screeched. “I thought you were dead! Shot in the face by that lunatic. I’m sorry I didn’t stop. I was scared, but don’t worry, baby, the police are coming!”

  She fussed at his side, but Cass waved her off.

  “Thank you, but I am fine,” he assured her. “I was not shot.” He eyed her with speculation, but quickly shook off the hope that flared when she had spoken to him.

  She is wed and definitely out of my age group, he thought, glancing at her ring finger.

  Still, he considered it. Lucifer was right; the clock was ticking after all.

  “Come and sit in my car, baby,” she urged, trying to move him but Cass resisted her tugging.

  “I am fine,” he insisted. “I should be on my way – “

  The sirens approached, and Cass groaned in exasperation.

  He had no time for such trivialities.

  “Oh good! The cops will take good care of you, baby,” she cooed, pressing a softly wrinkled hand against his face. “And don’t you worry none. I got a good picture of him on my camera phone. I bet he’ll be arrested in no time.”

  Cass offered her a weak smile as the policemen scurried toward the scene, barking questions about the gunman in rapid fire succession.

  Slowly, Cass ran both hands through his hair, trying to decide the best plan of action.

  He had been back on earth for three weeks.

  I only have one more week to win the bet with Lucifer. It is not enough time.

  “What’s your name, sir?” the first uniformed officer asked, looking over his face with scrutiny.

  “John Smith,” Cass replied.

  If I don’t find a woman to fall in love with me by then, I will never get another chance to leave the underworld.

  “Mr. Smith, huh?” the cop crinkled his nose in disbelief. “Do you have any ID?”

  “I am afraid the ruffian took it,” Cass answered evenly.

  And if I do not find such a woman and win my opportunity to stay on earth, I can never set things right.

  Cass knew he would never again return to Heaven, not with what he had been forced to do to survive in Hell, but there was not a day which went by that he did not wonder how his existence could have been forced so far off track…thanks to the stepbrother who had betrayed him in the worst way a brother could.

  First, I will win the wager with Satan.

  Then I will avenge my exile.

  “Okay, fine, ‘John Smith’. I’ll take your statement at the hospital.”

  The policeman signaled for a paramedic to take him and Cass bit on the insides of his cheeks. He knew that fighting law enforcement would only cause him more delays and problems in the long run.

  Today I deal with this robbery. Tomorrow I focus on my purpose for being here.

  “Let’s go, John Smith,” the cop muttered sarcastically, as he was led toward the ambulance, Cass heard the officer comment to his partner.

  His partner snorted.

  “Yeah, I bet. He was probably buying,” the other beat cop muttered in a low enough voice that a normal person would not hear.

  But Cassiel was not a normal person.

  “Let’s find a way to run this guy’s prints too. Something tells me he’s got a rap sheet. John Smith, my ass.”

  They both agreed, and Cass smiled serenely.

  He had nothing to worry about; he didn’t have fingerprints at all.

  Chapter Two

  Serafina

  Staring out the window of the office, Serafina wondered which was more depressing; the sodden mess on Grand River Avenue or the overcrowded, undusted hellhole in which she worked.

  It seemed to her that it didn’t matter which direction she looked, the view made her want to vomit.

  God, I hate this city. I hate this job. I hate my life, Sera thought miserably as she reluctantly turned back toward the too bright workspace, the fluorescent lighting causing her head to pound.

  Every day she asked herself why she would have stayed in Michigan where the winters were deadly, and the summers smelled like pork rinds roasting in the heat.

  I need to be somewhere warm and friendly. Not in a city where getting to work involves either traipsing through mud and slush, or getting on a bus which reeks of cat spray.

  “Sera! What are you doing?”

  Harry appeared at the doorway and she started, although she didn’t know why; he was notorious
for his unexpected appearances.

  “Trying to find my will to live,” she muttered, but the senior partner (and only partner) of the law firm stalked inside, his pudgy body popping out of his tweed suit. It seemed impossible to Sera that the buttons had not exploded from his suit and into her morning coffee by now.

  Do they even make tweed anymore? She wondered dully. Harry wore the damned outfit at least three times a week while the other two were reserved for dress pants and Hawaiian shirt ensemble.

  Just because you are the shittiest lawyer in America, doesn’t mean you have to dress like…well, the shittiest lawyer in America, she thought sardonically.

  “You have to get to Henry Ford Hospital right away!” he ordered through a fit of hacking coughs.

  Sera waited impatiently for him to finish his thought.

  When he finally stopped choking, he flashed her a nicotine stained smile.

  “There is a hit and run, a slip and fall and a dog bite in emergency right now!” he declared, pulling a pack of Marlborough’s from his breast pocket and lighting one up.

  Sera eyed him dubiously, wrinkling her nose as the cigarette smoke met her nose.

  “Have you been listening to the police scanner again?” she asked with disgust. “The police warned you – “

  “Of course not!” Harry cried, seeming hurt that she would suggest such a thing. She stared at him pointedly.

  “No?” she demanded. “You just happen to know this how?”

  The middle-aged attorney looked down at his hands.

  “I paid off one of the interns to let me know,” he conceded, and Sera groaned aloud.

  It was not an ethical issue; it was one of survival.

  If Harry lost his license to practice law, she would be without a job, and if there was something Sera could not stomach, it was the thought of being homeless.

  Why did I ever start working here? She bemoaned silently as if it wasn’t something she had asked herself every day for the past two years.

  The answer hadn’t changed; her grades had not been good enough for her to apply at an upscale law firm and even if they had been, no one was going to hire a girl with no experience, no references, and no address.

  Only Harry Winston had been willing to take a chance on her and Sera would be a fool to believe it was for any other reason than that old Harry wanted to get into her pants.