The Devil's Soldier: A Paranormal Vampire Romance Novel (Devil Series Book 3)

by Raven Steele

  There was movement in his hand. His grip upon something was loosening, but what? He suddenly couldn’t remember what he was doing in this dark world that embraced him tightly. He searched his memories for something he could cling to, but they were like water and slipped through his consciousness.

  Until one didn’t.

  A simple crimson rose bloomed in his mind. Within it, he saw an eternity of beauty and love, a never-ending light that darkness could never reach.

  Lucien tightened his grip with both hands and focused on the rose, the flower that had brought him and Eve together.

  Lights turned on as if a switch had been flipped and sounds returned. Lucien’s teeth were chattering. He had never been colder.

  Charlie was still in his arms, his skin ghostly pale. Henry had collapsed upon the floor, his breathing heavy. As for Eve, she was curled in a tight ball, ice crystals in her long hair, and also shivering. Lucien focused on the immediate problem before he became too distraught to focus on anything at all.

  He gently laid Charlie on the floor and pressed his fingers to his neck. One, two, three, four… there was no pulse. He waited a few more seconds but still no pulse came.

  “Don’t you die, you bastard,” Lucien growled. He ripped open Charlie’s buttoned shirt and smashed his fist into Charlie’s sternum. He pounded several more times, but Charlie’s body only jerked in response.

  “Charlie!” he shouted. “Wake up!”

  He stared down at Charlie’s body, his mind racing through all sorts of solutions. Magic! He placed a hand on Charlie’s head and concentrated hard. Eve had healed him once using magic; surely he could do the same to fix Charlie.

  Despite being weak, Lucien used the last of his strength to ignite the power within him. It sputtered and spit, a small spark that couldn’t ignite. He dug deeper, going beyond his own knowledge and memories. He was concentrating so hard that his head shook and sweat rolled in great beads down the sides of his face. The ancient power was there; he sensed it in the deep recesses of his mind, but it was locked behind a door he didn’t have the key to.

  “Argh!” He pounded the floor in frustration, anger giving him enough strength to accomplish the motion. He pressed his hands back to Charlie’s chest and continued compressions while also trying to use magic. “Open your damn eyes, you dumb fuck! You stupid piece of shit! Why did you get in the way?”

  He continued trying to heal him, wiping sweat from his brow and blinking several times to clear his vision. Charlie didn’t respond.

  Lucien’s strength finally gave out, and he dropped his head, guilt weighing him down. He should be dead right now, not Charlie. “Why?”

  He sucked in several hitched breaths and glanced at Eve. The ice crystals in her hair were gone, and her color had returned. He hoped she would sleep for a long time. The pain she was going to feel when she woke would be terrible, and it wasn’t a burden he could carry for her, though he would if he could.

  With a heavy and shattered heart, he turned to Henry, who had passed out from the use of such powerful magic. “What do I do?”

  No one responded. He was on his own.

  Lucien moved onto all fours, his hands sinking into the plush carpet and looked around. He was in a simple living room of what appeared to be a small home. Modern furniture, black sofa and chair, table, lamp, tan carpet. No pictures hung on the walls. This place must be Henry’s.

  He sucked in a stronger breath and cleared his mind. Fight now. Mourn later.

  The first thing he had to do was make sure Eve stayed safe. Boaz could be returning to his home any second, expecting to see Lucien’s ashes, and Alarica, waiting for him. When Boaz saw the destruction, he would surely guess what happened and be furious enough to come looking for them. Lucien needed to protect their location. A spell should work, something similar to what Eve had done to hide herself from both him and Boaz.

  But what was that?

  Lucien knew how to manipulate the matter around him and get inside another supernatural’s head, thanks to Henry, but he knew very little about casting spells, which often involved using the ancient language. His gaze lowered to the two people who did know how but both were unconscious.

  Because he didn’t want to traumatize Eve further, he crawled to Henry and touched his head. A little of Lucien’s magic had returned, but he wasn’t sure if it would be enough. He focused on opening his own mind first. This came easy enough. It proved much harder to send a burst of mental energy into Henry’s, though.

  It took Lucien a few times, but eventually he reached Henry’s subconscious. The first thing Lucien did upon entering, was suck a bit of Henry’s power from him, just enough so that he would be able to cast the spell once he knew how.

  Henry’s mind opened just then into a bright light and locked with Lucien’s.

  “Lucien.” Henry’s voice was in his head.

  “Henry?”

  “You must listen, Lucien. This is the magic you seek. Do it quickly.”

  An image appeared in Lucien’s mind: a circle drawn on the floor, salt water to clean the space, a bloodstone, a lock of hair from Eve, and a phrase.

  “Wake up, and you do it,” Lucien pleaded.

  “I cannot. My body must recover. Hurry, Lucien.”

  The light in Henry’s mind began to dim.

  “No!” Lucien said. “I need—”

  Henry’s mind went black and the connection between them dropped. Lucien gasped for breath, then jumped to his feet. He hurried into the kitchen and searched the cupboards until he found salt. After filling a bowl full of water, he carried the items throughout the house, stopping when he reached what looked like the perfect spot for spell casting: an empty walk-in closet with a wooden floor. There was a faded circle drawn into the wood as if Henry had cast spells here before.

  Lucien set down the items and returned to search the other rooms for a bloodstone. It was easy to find once he focused his senses on seeking out power. The stone was found among many others within a glass cabinet. Their combined strength filled the room with a pulsing energy.

  Lucien took hold of the green stone and turned it over, fascinated by the blood-like veins running across its surface. It was cool to the touch and seemed to be vibrating but the motion wasn’t visible to the naked eye.

  The only thing left to do was get Eve’s hair. After finding a pair of scissors in a drawer, he returned to Henry and Eve. He swallowed hard when he walked by Charlie’s body. Don’t think. Don’t Feel.

  Lucien approached Eve and smoothed back her hair. It was a lot harder to not feel anything for her. He wanted to scoop her up and take her away from all of this. But Boaz was still out there. He opened the scissors and snipped two-inches of a golden lock.

  Back in the closet, he washed the floor with the salt water and drew a circle around him as he sat on the floor, the hair lying next to him. He inhaled a deep breath and thought again of the image Henry had given him to complete the spell. He was ready.

  He held the stone on his lap and called upon magic. It came quickly; the power he had taken from Henry was strong. Once he felt connected to the world around him, he began the incantation, words he’d seen in Henry’s mind. He said them over and over, until a burst of energy shot from his body. He sensed it spreading over him, then leaving toward Eve.

  The energy came to a complete circle, and Lucien sucked in a cool breath. It was done. He waited until his body was grounded to the here and now before he left the closet to make a phone call. One last thing to do before he could take care of the others.

  He dialed Rick’s phone number. It took a few rings, but finally Rick answered.

  “Hey! Where the hell are you guys? I’ve been waiting forever.”

  This surprised Lucien. “Waiting where?”

  “On Summers street in a small neighborhood just outside the city. Charlie said you guys would need help just after sunset but that already happened. Everything okay?”

  Lucien almost choked. If Lucien had to guess, Su
mmers street was nearby. Had Charlie known about his death?

  “What’s going on, Lucien?” Rick asked.

  It took a few seconds before Lucien could respond. “There’s been an accident. I don’t want to discuss it right now, but I need to you to come to the location I’m about to text you, as soon as you can.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Lucien slumped against the wall, a great sadness threatening to devour him whole.

  “Just come,” he begged and hung up the phone.

  He texted his location to Rick, then straightened and returned to Eve. As he passed by Charlie’s body, he remembered the necklace. He inhaled deeply before reaching into Charlie’s shirt to retrieve it. The glass orb tingled and warmed his palm. The sensation spread to the rest of him, and he sighed pleasurably. The sound startled him, and he stared at the necklace, getting the distinct impression that it was trying to seduce him.

  He quickly pocketed it and made a mental note to avoid touching it all costs.

  Lowering next to Eve, he scooped her up and held her tight. Her body tensed and then relaxed into him. He carried her to a bedroom down the hall and gently laid her down.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, apologizing for the pain she was going to feel the moment her eyes opened. He only hoped his love would be enough to get her through.

  Chapter 40

  Eve’s eyes opened. Not by choice. Her eyelids just lifted as if they were tired of being closed. There was no other reason for the action. Had she cared, she would’ve closed them back tight, but she simply felt nothing. There was a giant hole inside her; the blackness coated her mind and heart. She let it.

  Lucien was kneeling in front of her, his lips moving, but she chose not to hear the words. Instead, she looked right through him. Afternoon sunlight filtered in through the window, stirring up dust motes into the air. They swirled and twirled, neither going up nor down.

  There was a firm touch on her arm, but she didn’t flinch. Maybe Lucien should squeeze harder. If she had the strength, she would’ve asked him to squeeze until her bone snapped.

  She quickly pushed this thought away. Even asking to feel something else other than this empty, black nothing inside her brought on memories of what she had done as Alarica.

  Charlie.

  This time her eyes closed for what seemed like a very long time.

  “Eve.”

  It wasn’t a voice that had said her name, but more like the word had appeared in her mind. There was a presence drifting through her empty thoughts. It was light in color and easily pushed through her dark space.

  “We need you, Eve.”

  Nobody needed her. This unwelcome entity spoke lies.

  “It’s been three days. We have to destroy Boaz. We are running out of time.”

  Her mind turned an even darker shade of black, not a color, but an emotion that should’ve shoved the presence from her thoughts, but the light only grew.

  “We are all hurting, but your pain must wait. Millions of lives are at stake.”

  Eve circled her mind’s intruder until she recognized it. Henry.

  “Send your pain below, Eve. It will be waiting for you another day. Come fight with us.”

  She wasn’t listening to him. She was thinking of Boaz. Despite her inability to feel in her current state, she knew Boaz had to die, once and for all. It was what she wanted most, even over Lucien.

  Her eyes opened. Henry released his hand from her head.

  “Welcome back,” he said.

  Lucien stood over his shoulder, staring at her with such worry that she had to look away. The black hole still filled her entirety. There wasn’t room for anything else. At least he looked well. After Alarica’s torture …

  She sat up.

  Henry straightened and backed away from the bed to make room for Lucien to approach, but when Lucien sat down, Eve swung her legs to the other side of the bed, away from him. He would bring emotions she didn’t want to feel yet, or maybe ever.

  She didn’t look back at him as she left the room. She walked down the hall, eyeing her surroundings. Nothing hung on the walls. There were no personal items and only simple furniture in each of the three bedrooms. There was little color in the living room, all blacks and whites on top of tan flooring.

  Except for one area where a dark crimson stain bled into the carpet. It looked like it had been made worse by a failed scrubbing attempt.

  She stared at the spot, waiting to feel something, but nothing came. Good. The black hole inside her would hold.

  “His body won’t be discovered for a few days,” Henry said, coming up beside her. “We can grieve properly then.”

  She walked away from the stain and peered out the blinds hanging in the window. The sun was fading against the horizon. Trees surrounded the home, giving her no clue as to where she was. Not that it mattered.

  She turned around. Lucien had gone into the kitchen and was fiddling with something out of her view. She appreciated his lack of hovering. That was the last thing she needed or wanted.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked Henry.

  Henry’s eyes flashed to Lucien and then back to her. “How much do you remember of Alarica’s time with Boaz?”

  “All of it.” There was no emotion in her voice.

  Henry cleared his throat and shifted his weight. “Did you learn anything about his plans?”

  “Alarica didn’t care about his plans, but he talked about them. Boaz met with Tom frequently.”

  “Who?” Lucien asked.

  “The President. Boaz had a strange respect for him that I’ve never seen him have for anyone else. I met Tom once. He admitted he was a supernatural but his own species. He claimed he was one of the Firsts.”

  Henry twitched his head as if flinching at a memory.

  “Do you know what that means?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he said. “I’ll need to look into it. Anything else?”

  “He wanted me to get caught on film causing damage and harm.” At this, she paused as pain surfaced. She swallowed, forcing it back down into the black abyss.

  “So was it Tom asking you to do this, or Boaz?” Lucien asked. “We need to know who is calling the shots.”

  “At this point, it doesn’t matter,” Henry said. “We need to deal with Boaz.”

  Eve shook her head. “I don’t think you should dismiss Tom so easily. He may be a bigger threat than we realize.”

  “One problem at a time.” Henry approached her slowly, as if she were a china doll that had to be handled with care.

  Eve resented the motion. For now, anger and rage made her plenty strong.

  “We have a plan,” he told her. “We need to draw Boaz out into the open into a place where we can all fight him, but still have whatever mess we create contained for the protection of others.”

  “The mountains? Forest?” Eve asked, although she admitted to herself that the last time they had tried that with Boaz, it hadn’t gone so well.

  “Trees could be used as weapons against Lucien and me. It needs to be an open area.”

  Eve parted the blinds again and peered out. “I’m sensing you already know where you want to have this battle.”

  She heard Lucien approach her from behind, but she didn’t turn around. Already, she felt he was too close.

  “Hancock Stadium,” Lucien said. “It will be easy for us to place a magical barrier around the stadium. Not only will it contain any magic we use, but sound too. There also isn’t much wood there that could be turned into weapons.”

  “But plenty of metal,” she said, her voice emotionless. “He could slice off our heads.”

  Lucien took hold of her hand firmly, startling her. “Or we could slice off his.”

  She let go of his hand, curled her fingers into a fist so she wouldn’t have to feel the tingling sensation between them, and walked to the other side of the room. “When do you plan on doing this?”

  “As soon as you are ready,” Henry a
nswered.

  “One day, a week, a month. It doesn’t matter. I will never be more ready than I am right now to kill Boaz.”

  Henry glanced at Lucien. Lucien gave a slight nod.

  “I’ll get everything we need then,” Henry said. “We’ll do it tonight.”

  Henry exited down the hallway, leaving Lucien alone with her. She quickly turned her back to him to avoid his weighted stare.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice hesitant.

  She busied herself in the kitchen, pouring a glass of juice and putting a slice of bread into the toaster. “I’m fine.”

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  She didn’t answer right away, not even when the bread popped up perfectly toasted. A lump in her throat prevented her from speaking. Finally, she managed to say without looking at him, “I need time. Please stay away from me.”

  Lucien didn’t respond, didn’t move a muscle while she buttered her toast. Her heart beat fast and loud, but she wouldn’t listen to its protests.

  “I will give you space, but know that I’m here for you whenever you need me,” Lucien said.

  She appreciated that he kept his voice even, showing no emotions as to how she might’ve hurt him.

  “I’m going to go help Henry,” he informed her, and began walking away.

  “Wait!” she said.

  He whirled around.

  Her eyes flickered to his then glanced down. She cleared her throat in an attempt to keep the lump from returning. “I just can’t feel right now. Any kind of emotion will cripple me. Do you understand?”

  “You don’t have to explain.” He turned back around and disappeared into the hallway.

  As soon as he was gone, she slumped over the counter, her forehead touching the cool granite countertops. Her breathing quickened. She could do this. Her stomach twisted into a painful knot. Then why did she feel as if she was about to break into a thousand pieces?

  Shut it off. Shut it off. Shut it off!