The Dark God's Bride : Book 2

by Dahlia Lu

  “Oh yes. I almost forgot you attend this university. Raya, this is my friend, Lizzie. Lizzie, Raya.”

  The two exchanged a handshake.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi, nice to meet you.”

  Raya placed the green apple and the bottle of spring water in her hands on the table before taking a seat. “You guys were talking about joining a sorority?”

  “Lizzie wants to join.”

  “I’m interested,” Raya said, taking a bite out of her apple.

  Lizzie tugged on her arm. “Come on, Amara, it’ll be fun.”

  A lot of dead people fun. “You should join, Lizzie. I would solve your housing problem.”

  Lizzie spent some thoughts on it. “How about this? You don’t have to join, but at least accompany me through it? You can quit right after? I’m afraid to do it alone.”

  “Afraid of what? Pillow fights?”

  “It’s the initiation. I don’t know what they’re doing this year, so I’m scared. Do it with me.”

  “How bad can it be?” Amara sputtered.

  “I looked up ‘sorority hazing rituals’ on the internet. It’s pretty bad.”

  Raya nodded in agreement.

  What are friends for, Amara? “Fine, fine, I’ll do it.”

  “Oh, I love–” Lizzie’s eyes flew passed her and focused at the cafeteria entrance, “–that fine looking man!”

  Amara turned her head and followed the direction her friend was looking at. Lizzie appeared to be love-struck again.

  “Have you ever seen a finer looking man in all of your life?” Lizzie exaggerated.

  “One,” Raya replied with a soft blush on her face.

  Amara’s eyeballs almost popped out of their sockets. She should have expected this, but she honestly didn’t. She should have known he was up to something!

  There he was… in the flesh with dozens of admiring eyes on him! It was not hard to wonder why. He was a six-foot-five male with heart-stopping blue eyes and devastatingly handsome features. Women were swooning over him left and right.

  Amara rolled her eyes. If only they knew his true nature.

  “Sweet heavens! He’s looking this way!” Lizzie cried out.

  “Yes,” Amara assured her friend, “yes, he is.”

  “Do you think he’s interested?”

  Raya answered, “Oh, he’s interested!”

  “I had my eyes on him first!” Lizzie declared. “Don’t compete with me, bitches!” She then turned to Raya. “No offense. Just so you know… that’s just the way I talk.”

  Amara thought he would march straight over to her and haul her away, but she was wrong. He only spared her a glance and then moved on as if they were complete strangers. Amara drew her conclusion: he was definitely up to something.

  After two hours of standing in line with other sorority-hopefuls and listening to one of the longest set of rules she’d ever been introduced to, Amara was mentally cursing herself for coming along with her friend. Well, she did drown out ninety percent of what the ‘sisters’ were saying, since it really didn’t matter anyways.

  What’s next, painting each other’s toe nails?

  “This year, you all will be spending the night at a haunted cemetery,” one of the big sisters announced.

  Amara lifted her lashes. “Wait, what?”

  “It’s part of pledging,” Lizzie whispered to her.

  “Like… the whole night?”

  The big sister nodded. “Those who want to leave, now is the time.”

  “I’m out,” Amara said flatly and headed for the nearest exit.

  Lizzie caught her hand. “Amara, you promised.”

  “A cemetery, Lizzie! You know how easily I get creeped out.”

  “Please, Amara. Just for one night.”

  “I will never set foot in a…”

  Half an hour later, the cemetery gate was closed and locked in front of her and eight other girls. Each was only given a flashlight and a bottle of water. Amara sighed, troubled. Why does this keep happening to me?

  “We’ll come get you in the morning!” the big sisters shouted out of the window as they were driving away. “By the way, if you want to go home earlier, there is an unlocked exit on the other side of the cemetery.”

  Amara turned around to face a landscape littered with tombstones. Something told her that it was going to be one of the longest nights of her life. She had never been fond of cemeteries, and she’d never been comfortable wandering in the dark. She also hated ghosts, ghouls, and anything of a creepy nature.

  It was getting dark.

  “I propose we stay here until morning.”

  Maybe her voice wasn’t loud enough, because the group was venturing into the cemetery. They all seemed eager to leave the place as quickly as possible. Not wanting to be alone in the dark, she reluctantly followed the group.

  The further they traveled into the cemetery, the older the tombstones appeared. After walking through rows upon rows of them, they encountered rows and rows of mossy, shed-size mausoleums. What was creepier than being buried underground? Being buried above it.

  Amara shivered when she thought about the sets of skeletons laying just a stone wall away. She reached for Lizzie’s and Raya’s hands so that she could feel a little more secure in the middle.

  “Didn’t we just walk through here?” One of the girls asked.

  “Yeah,” another girl replied. “I think I recognized that angel statue.”

  The group exchanged anxious looks. “Calm down,” one said. “We’ll just leave markings on the path we walked through so we’ll know for sure.”

  Strange winds were blowing in the air, giving rise to her goose bumps. There were owls hooting on the trees and rustling sounds coming from nearby bushes. The flashlights were their only source of light.

  “We split up into groups of three to find the exit,” someone suggested. “When we do, we’ll just yell for the other teams to come.”

  Amara raised the arm that was attached to Raya. “I object!”

  “We three will go that way. You guys try the others.” One of the girls gestured the directions with her flashlight.

  Crap, now the group is even smaller.

  “Don’t be a scaredy cat, Amara,” said Lizzie. “It’ll be fine.”

  “I’m not scared. I’m creeped out. There is a difference!”

  “Sure,” Raya laughed.

  “Boo!”

  “Stop it, Lizzie!”

  “Ghosts don’t go ‘boo’,” Raya said. “They make sound similar to the wind blowing through an enclosed area.”

  “How would you know?” Lizzie asked.

  Amara felt Raya shrug through their connecting hands. “I’m guessing.”

  Lizzie laughed. “Alright, so how do you suppose we do this? Boo!”

  “You got me the first time only because I was surprised,” Amara said casually. “I won’t fall for the same trick–” She screamed her bloody head off when she saw a bright green light flashing from the mausoleum next to them. She screamed again when Raya’s flashlight shone on a white bony hand trying to crawl out of the ground. There was still flesh lingering on each finger.

  Holy mackerel! Zombies!

  Lizzie screamed and dropped her hand, followed by Raya. Amara was too terrified to move. She shone her flashlight around her and realized that she was completely alone. Gathering her wits, she managed to get her legs to follow her orders again.

  She ran away as fast as she could until she tripped on something on the ground. She lunged forward and hit her head against a tree trunk.

  Freak, that hurts!

  She heard footsteps coming closer. “Who’s there?” she shouted into the open space. “Lizzie? Raya?”

  No reply.

  Amara scuttled until her back hit the tree back. “Show yourself!” She frantically moved her flashlight around. It went by a moving figure. She focused the light in that direction. She held her breath when the light hit a wolfish smile.

  “
This must be fate,” the male voice said. “We meet again, Amara.”

  When she recognized who he was, she exhaled with relief. “Oh god, you scared the hell out of me! I thought you were a freaking zombie!” She quickly brushed the dead leaves off of her clothing.

  He took offense. “I’m much more terrifying than zombies. I control them.”

  “You’re alive and well, eh, Necromancer?”

  “You thought I was dead?”

  “Well… you disappeared, so I just assumed you got incinerated. How’s life?”

  “Same. One graveyard to another.”

  She laughed at the humor.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Sorority pledging.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yeah…”

  “Have you decided if you wanted to become my apprentice?”

  “I’m still unavailable.”

  “Shame. I supposed I’d have to face that captor of yours again.”

  “You lost last time,” she reminded him.

  “I did not lose,” the necromancer denied. “It was a strategic withdrawal. The catacomb was far too small to demonstrate my skills.”

  “Right…” She eyed the direction she ran from. “By the way, was the zombie that was popping up from the ground yours by any chance?”

  “I did not summon anything.”

  “Then what the hell was that thing?”

  “Let’s go find out.”

  “Let’s not.”

  He went anyway. Feeling a pinch safer with him, she followed. She hid behind his back as they were approaching the bony hand.

  “Hmm.”

  “What?” Amara asked anxiously.

  He pulled the hand from the ground. It was still moving. “Mechanical.”

  “You mean… it’s fake?”

  “It runs on AA batteries.”

  “Wait a minute… why is that thing there?” Amara pondered. “Don’t tell me the sorority girls planted it to scare us.”

  “Looks like it.” He reached for her flashlight and shone it on her face.

  She squinted. “What are you doing?”

  “Your forehead is bleeding.”

  Her hands traveled up her face and felt warm liquid at her fingertips. Alarmed, she asked, “Does it look bad? Did it crack my skull?”

  “…you’ll live.”

  “I’m asking if it looks bad.”

  He nodded. “It will probably leave a scar if you don’t clean it up now.”

  “Damn it! I don’t want a scar! Can you take me to a doctor?”

  He folded his arms in front of him. “Why should I?”

  “Umm… because we’re friends? I could teleport myself out, but I’m too afraid of messing up my organs in some way.”

  He shook his head.

  “Are you seriously exploiting the situation?”

  “If we’re nothing to each other, then why should I help you?”

  Amara sighed. “Fine, I’ll be your apprentice…”

  “Good choice,” he praised. “Follow me. Your master will save the day.”

  “Master is taking it a tad too far. I’ll call you by your name. What is your name?”

  “How about Lord?”

  “Name.”

  “Chief?”

  “Name!”

  “It’s Shiran,” he bit out. “I don’t like my name, so don’t call me that if it’s absolutely not necessary.”

  “Sounds a bit feminine.”

  “Don’t ask.”

  “Is there a story behind it?”

  “I told you not to ask.”

  “Is it because your parents wanted a girl?”

  It was his turn to sigh. “I’m starting to have second thoughts.”

  A gentle touch on the forehead woke Amara up in the middle of the night. She should be alarmed that there was a man in her bed, but she was not. She was used to waking up next to him. Her queen size bed felt like a twin with him on it.

  He was carefully watching her with his blue eyes.

  Amara figured he came for sex, so she wrapped her arms around his neck and raised her head for a kiss.

  Before their lips touched, he asked, “Must you be so careless?”

  Amara let her head sink back down into the soft pillow. “It’s only a scrape. It’s giving me one hell of a headache right now, but I’m not going to die from it.”

  He lifted the layers of bandages to see the extent of the damage underneath.

  “Looks bad, doesn’t it? I’d hate for it to leave a scar on my already unimpressive face.”

  He returned the layers of bandages to their original state. “On the contrary, I find your face increasingly pleasing to the eyes.”

  She snorted. “My concussion is worse than I thought. It’s making me hallucinate.” She turned to her side and closed her eyes. “A bastard like you would never say something like that, especially to me.”

  She waited for him to comment.

  “See what I mean? I called you a bastard and you didn’t yell or threatened to kill me or anything. Hallucination 101: subjects in your visions are seldom true to life.”

  “It’s not the first day you have shown contempt for me, mortal.”

  “I’m friendly to most people. That says a lot more about you than it does me. Touching on the subject of you being a bastard, how was that buxom maid?”

  “Who is the subject of our conversation?”

  “You know… the female you cast me aside for. I’ve never been brave enough to wear a two-piece bikini and there I was, freaking topless, and you said ‘get out’. I’ve never felt more humiliated in my life! If that wasn’t enough to hurt my pride, you went barbarian on another female, like, two minutes after. I’m a girl, damn it! It hurts to get rejected. If I didn’t have a nervous breakdown at the time, I would have grabbed something sharp and run you through.”

  She heard a low chuckle coming from him.

  “What?” She asked, confused with his reaction. “I don’t see what is so funny–” Her hands flew to her head when it suddenly felt like her brain had just been fried by a ten thousand volt shock. “Darn it! That hurts like a freaking…” she mumbled strings of incoherent curses. “I sure hope I make it through tonight. Poor people can’t afford to stay in hospitals, you see.”

  “Try to sleep,” he said softly against her ear.

  Chapter Seven

  Clumps of clouds veiled over the full moon, casting complete darkness over the cemetery. Without her powers, Nala was forced to rely on her flashlight to lead the way. Before the transition, she could see perfectly well in the dark. Even without her sight, her acute hearing and sense of smell could map out her surroundings. Living without them would require some getting used to.

  In order to maintain her body, she needed to follow a set of repetitive routines on a daily basis. She found eating three meals a day and tending to other bodily functions incredibly tedious. Her weak strength and low stamina frustrated her. Even a short walk left her panting for breath.

  Exhausted from her walk, Nala decided to rest for a few minutes.

  The wind was picking up. The clouds above were dissipating, returning the stage to the luminous full moon. Visibility extended beyond the beam of her flashlight.

  Among the gravestones, Nala detected a masculine figure roaming the night. She shone her light on him and frowned when she realized it was none other than the dark god – her enemy. There was a menacing look on his face and a small amount of blood staining the corner of his jaw. Nala stood as he approached her.

  Now mortal, she must take every precaution in dealing with him.

  “I am so glad to see you!” Nala gasped. “I’ve been lost for a while now. Do you think you can escort me out of here?”

  A wolfish smile, he asked, “Expecting kindness from strangers?”

  “I’m sure you’re a kind person.”

  “Guess again.”

  “Well, let me explain my situation to you first. My friend and I got separated about
two hours ago in this cemetery. I’m very worried about her. I need to get out of here so I can call for help.”

  “You can call for help right now.”

  Before she could say another word, the bastard was already standing behind her with his large hand around her throat. She attempted break free from his firm grip.

  “Come out,” the dark god called out into the darkness. “This woman is drenched in your scent. If you do not come out, she dies.”

  Nala suddenly realized who he was talking to. Her other-half stepped into the beam of her flashlight.

  A wave of anger rolled through her. The bastard detected Trent’s scent on her and used her to lure him out. Nala dreaded the thought that she’d placed her other-self in danger.

  “Leave her out of this,” Trent said to the dark god.

  “Answer me this,” the dark god demanded, “Who are you? Why are you standing in Lucifer’s image?”

  Without hesitation, her other-self replied, “I am Trent, son of Lucifer.”

  The dark god furrowed his brows in a confused expression. “You are Lucifer’s son?”

  “Yes.”

  The dark god scrutinized with a disdained expression. “I am disturbed by the likeness. Where is your Sire now?”

  “He had been in hibernation for the last six thousand years.”

  “Six…” The dark god laughed. He released Nala and shoved her at Trent. Her other-self caught her before she hit the dirt. Nala clung onto Trent in an attempt to look terrified.

  “I had not realized he had been gone that long. If that is the case, then your mother is no longer mortal.”

  “Yes.”

  The dark god threw his head back and laughed again. “I’ve been wrong since the beginning.” His laughter ceased. His eyes focused on Trent once again. “What is Amara to you?”

  “She is not the one you are after.”

  “Answer me!” the dark god demanded.

  “My mother took Amara in when she was a child. You can say that she is my sister.”

  The dark god stood still for a long moment.

  “If you are his son, then you must know the location of your Sire’s burial ground.”

  “Yes,” Trent admitted, “but that is the one thing I will not disclose to you. My father entrusted that secret to me, and I will keep it safe.”

  “You will tell me.”