Daemons of London Boxset (Books 1-3) The Bleeders, The Human Herders, The Purebloods

by Michaela Haze

  Trix laughed. “Taylor, you’ve killed people before. Besides, isn’t death better than what they do to the ones they don’t turn?”

  “What do they do? Don’t they just drain them until they die?”

  Trix put her sandwich down and gave me look like I was an idiot. “Sex slaves, Taylor. They’re incubi and succubae.”

  I shivered and bile rose in my throat. The overwhelming emptiness inside me quickly leeched the disgust that started to grow from my belly. It dispersed like ink on water. It unnerved me but I said nothing, no longer bothered by what the daemons were doing.

  The thing inside me that wanted to feast on daemon magic, sucked up my guilt and turned it to apathy.

  “So, you and William, huh?” I asked, wiggling my eyebrows.

  Trix’s brow crinkled. “Abrupt subject change there, Taylor?”

  Trix stared into my eyes for a beat too long and I wondered if she had felt the emptiness inside of me, eating my emotions and feeding the darkness.

  “How did you know about William and me?” She asked, allowing the subject change.

  “I saw the photos, they’re in an exhibition in Shoreditch.”

  The Witching shook her head and laughed. “William’s a sod.”

  “It’s not true love then?” I teased, “I’m not surprised.”

  Trix nodded thoughtfully but her attention snapped back to me when I began to cough. I couldn’t help the tickle in my throat that turned into a full-blown hack.

  “Are you okay?” Trix asked, her voice panicked.

  My vision tunnelled and I smelt the dusty carpet under my nose.

  I fell to the floor. Trix rushed over and I felt her hands touching me. They patted my face, the exposed skin on my shoulders but it felt as if my skin did not belong to me.

  I couldn’t stop coughing, my chest heaved and spluttered as I tried to force the burn out of my throat. I hunched over, finally able to move and coughed into my hands.

  Trix stepped back to give me space and I unfurled my clenched fingers to reveal what looked to be a small piece of black fabric. I had coughed up a piece of cloth.

  I started to tremble and the black fabric unfurled to reveal a tiny butterfly, barely bigger than my pinkie fingernail.

  “What is that?” I croaked, my throat was raw from the coughing.

  Trix went pale. Her mouth gaped in horror.

  “That’s a piece of your soul, Taylor.”

  The butterfly flicked its wings once, twice and took off into the air. It became nothing but black smoke, as it folded itself into the fabric of the air.

  “You’re a Vessel?” Trix said in slow realisation. “That’s why Damian wants you. Fuck.” The Witching stood up and for the first time since I had known her, she looked rattled. Trix pushed her peach coloured hair out of her face and gripped at her scalp in exasperation.

  “People keep calling me a Vessel.” I stated, crossing my legs from where I sat on the floor. “I can feel daemon magic and energy and my body just… wants it.”

  Trix put her hands in the sockets of her eyes and sat down. “Taylor, a Vessel is what happened when someone gets trapped between being a human and a daemon. Normally when a human drinks Pureblood they die or they ascend. If they don’t do either, they become something else. You are so screwed. Even that mark on the back of your neck can’t protect you.”

  My hands flew to my nape; I had almost forgotten about the tattoo that Trix had given me weeks ago. It was meant to Shroud against the Purebloods.

  “I’m so tired, Trix. I need sleep.” I moaned.

  “You need magic. Energy. Sex.” She clarified. “You can’t let Damian have you.”

  I rubbed my eyes and yawned. “Okay.”

  Trix walked in front of me and took my shoulders, she gave me a shake and stared into my eyes.

  “You must not, under any circumstances, allow Damian to have you.” Trix uttered, slowly and deliberately. I nodded slowly at her command and pushed myself from the floor.

  I knew that I should have felt something, anything, but something inside of me was missing. I couldn’t connect with my emotions properly. The emptiness was winning.

  I stood up and walked to the bedroom. I flopped onto my futon and tugged the covers over my head. It had been days since I had slept. The effects of daemon blood had meant that I hadn’t needed to. Seeing Henry had exhausted me. Herding Markus had drained me. I couldn’t figure out how I was supposed to feel as I drifted into a heavy sleep.

  His hands were soft but I felt the calluses on his fingertips as they traced a path up the inside of my thighs. I was in my bed, covers over my face, but I could feel his cool breath on the side of my neck as if Henry Blaire hovered over me. I squeezed my eyes shut, I was dreaming and for that second I refused to wake up.

  “Yes.” I begged, as his fingers grazed the inside of my thigh and reached my centre. I felt pressure on the outside of my underwear, my wetness had warmed the silk. My hips bucked as I felt the familiar touch of my daemon. His finger curled at my entrance, testing if I was ready. Before his lips pressed down on the hollow below my belly button. Teasing me. Savouring me.

  “Henry…please…” I begged again, my voice was ragged and wanton. It didn’t sound like me at all.

  “Sophia,” He purred. I opened my eyes and where the bed had been empty a few seconds before my daemon hovered over me. His weight rested on his elbows. His deep sapphire irises darkened with lust.

  “Tell me you want me.” He urged. I felt his fingers on my soft flesh, stroking me. I hadn’t felt like that in a long time. I had been so empty and lost. Parts of me had flaked away and gone. Trix had told me it was my soul.

  I was losing my soul.

  It was easier for focus when I was with Henry, wherever we were. It's a dream, I told myself.

  It was okay to lose myself because it wasn’t real.

  “I want you.” I breathed, as I grabbed his hair and pulled his lips to mine. They were soft as silk, urgent and demanding. Henry laced his fingers in mine and with a sharp movement, grabbed me and flipped me onto my stomach.

  I closed my eyes, unable to contain the moan that built in my throat. I could feel his magic curl against my skin like the soft brush of a feather. I wanted him, I wanted it all.

  His fingers hooked into the waistband of my underwear and dragged it over my buttocks. Henry’s hands palmed my soft flesh and I hissed a breath through my teeth as the bite of pleasure began to surge from my chest right to my heated core.

  Henry.

  My Henry. “Goodbye.”

  And then I woke up.

  11.

  I woke up with a start as my new phone vibrated. I had placed it directly under my pillow the night before. I pushed myself up using my elbows and looked around, my hair was stuck up in odd tufts and my sheets were in disarray. My brow furrowed. My bed looked like I hadn’t slept alone. I put my hand to my lips, they were plump and bruised from being kissed. My thighs were sore and worn from whatever had happened the night before.

  I felt like I had been ridden hard and put away wet.

  But it had been a dream.

  Incubi can invade dreams. A snarky voice in my mind reminded me.

  I clenched my hands into fists and growled. I punched my mattress in frustration.

  That damn sex daemon.

  I had consented, verbally, physically. But there was a certain expectation that dreams weren’t real. Dreams allowed people to do things they would not ordinarily do.

  I had let Henry back inside of me.

  I groaned and put my head in my hands. My phone continued to vibrate and I collected myself quickly. I plastered a fake smile on my face and gave me facial muscles some much-needed exercise. The caller ID told me that it was Vincent.

  “I’m outside.” He stated. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.” And he hung up on me.

  I threw my phone back onto the futon and it bounced once and then hit the floor.

  I couldn’t remember making any plans
with him. I searching my mind but found nothing. Every time I tried to reach for the memories I couldn’t recall them.

  I took my sweet time. The Elite had sprung an impromptu trip on me, so he could wait. I sat on the edge of my bed and combed out my long chestnut hair. Even though I had sex hair, some of the waves and product from the stylists remained. I chose my regular jeans, hoodie and converse.

  I took my time as I walked to the door. When I reached the entrance to the stairwell next to the corner shop, my mouth gaped open in shock. I recovered myself quickly.

  I had not expected to see a white sports car on the double yellow lines, on a street in Camden town.

  I felt a sting of jealousy. My own Audi TT had been sold whilst I was stuck in the asylum. I had had no use for it then. I liked fast cars.

  I curled my bottom lip and ran my tongue over it. Vincent’s hair stuck up in every direction, a deep auburn that shone with golden highlights where the morning sun hit it. I could never get used to what the sun did to daemon skin. It was translucent. I could see the thin blue veins in his neck from where his top buttons were undone to show off a flash of his muscular chest.

  Vincent opened his arms in welcome and his emerald eyes glinted.

  “I thought we could go for a drive my Pet.” He exclaimed happily. He clapped his hands together and opened the door of the white sports car.

  I walked past him without a word and tucked my legs in to sit down in the passenger seat.

  “It’s a Lamborghini Aventador.” Vincent explained as he slid into the driver’s seat. He pulled out into the traffic without even looking. I heard an angry horn sound from someone that had been cut off by us. I turned to look back at the road to see if we had caused much damage.

  “It looks like a car had sex with Optimus Prime.” I said, rubbing my hands over the red leather upholstery.

  Vincent ignored my comment and smiled inanely. “You did a good job last night.”

  “Thanks.” I crossed my hands over my chest. Vincent ran a red light and didn’t seem to care.

  “I was quite disappointed that you didn’t come back to Dartmouth House for the rest of the evening. We have provided you with a suite for your convenience.”

  I looked at the road and ignored the Elite daemon. I felt a tug and saw that Vincent had leant forward and captured a lock of my long hair between his nimble fingers. The exchange of energy in the car was a constant power play that I was sure was only visible to my eyes. My human energy slunk into the air like coloured smoke and the daemon’s presence leeched it from the air, greedily. Vincent’s dark magic, the thing that kept his human body immortal, powerful and connected to something else, hummed behind my eyes. His magic was like the crackle of a warm fire. It smelt like cinnamon and warm spices. Henry’s was the opposite; it was a fresh and refreshing burst. Henry’s was notoriously masculine, he smelt like a freezing winter. Vincent’s scent was like Autumn and falling leaves.

  I took a deep breath through my clenched teeth, hoping to inhale some of the tempting embers of his daemonic energy. I was solely disappointed when I couldn’t. It must have only worked when I touched a daemon.

  I thought back to my encounter with Henry the night before. It was probably why I felt a bit better in the morning and less fatigued. Henry and I had touched.

  I cleared my throat. “Where are we going?”

  “Back to Dartmouth House.”

  “Why? I’m not needed until the evening.” I said slowly.

  Vincent gripped the steering wheel but his expression was at odds with his tense grip. A bright smile was plastered on his face, his eyes sparkled. “You’re my Pet. You will stay at Dartmouth House.”

  I crooked an eyebrow. “I’m no one’s pet.”

  Vincent pouted. “For a week, my sweet. Just for a week.”

  “… Then I’ll be a daemon.” I stated. “And I’ll be on my way like you promised.”

  Vincent pulled the car to an abrupt stop, my seatbelt jarred and as Vincent resettled in his seat and I saw that he wasn’t wearing one. The red headed daemon took the keys and threw then into my hands. Shocked, I almost dropped them.

  “Come on. You drive.” He urged.

  My expression was dubious but he reached behind the driver’s side and pulled out a green bottle of champagne. Krystal. He popped the cork with ease, barely wasting a drop. He offered it to me and I shook my head. Vincent took a deep slug and reached over to pop open the driver’s side door. It slid up like some space age contraption.

  We swapped seats and I sat down on the frigid leather. I allowed myself to grip the steering wheel and the world fell away. I was in an expensive car. I was with daemon Royalty.

  In a week, I would be useless to Damian. I would be a daemon and I would be safe. I could hold on for a little bit longer.

  I pressed the pedal to the floor and heard the crunch of metal to my left. I hadn’t hit anyone but someone had swerved to avoid the white Lamborghini.

  I threw my head back and laughed.

  “Faster.” Vincent hooted, taking another sip of Krystal. “Faster!”

  Something rose deep in my chest. A strange tingling feeling beneath my skin that covered every inch and detached my mind from my body. It took over and my face broke into a grin so wide that it made my jaw ache.

  I couldn’t stop it. Vincent’s magic had managed to pry through the cracks of my mind when I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t care though. I stopped thinking about petty human things.

  “FASTER!” Vincent screamed and the car lurched forward so quickly that we were thrown back in our seats. I could feel the G-force. I had no idea how powerful the car was but I liked it.

  I jerked the steering wheel as we weaved through traffic. Part puppet and part urged on by my own innate rebellion. We drove like idiots through the straight streets of London. When cars pulled to a stop due to traffic, I mounted the pavement. Pedestrians jumped out of our way.

  Adrenaline pulsed through my mind and my fingers were numb from gripping the steering wheels.

  My euphoria drained quickly when I caught a flash of blue and red lights in my wing mirror. Great. London Met Police. I groaned and sank down in the driver’s seat. My foot inched off the throttle and I allowed us to begin to coast to a more natural speed.

  Vincent looked back and grinned. “Come on, Pet. Drive!” He grabbed the steering wheel and jarred it to the left just as a reached a four-way junction. The car turned at an unnatural angle and we flew around the corner, two wheels lifted for a brief second and landed back on the tarmac with a squeak and a thump.

  My mouth gaped in shock. A laugh bubbled out of my mouth and I couldn’t stop it.

  Vincent pulled the steering wheel again and we drove down a street that was ultimately too slim for the vehicle. The wing mirrors flew off in a flash of sparks, dragged off by the brick and deposited on the concrete of the pedestrian walkway.

  I saw the police in the rear-view mirror, they had driven straight past the entrance of the alleyway.

  Vincent pulled the handbrake on me and I was thankful for my seatbelt. My head flew forward as the airbag deposited. Vincent grabbed my shoulders and kicked the sunroof off. Before the car came to a stop, it left a squealing trail of burnt rubber on the cobblestones. Vincent held me close to him. He had moved us out of the vehicle so quickly that I wasn’t injured. The car was so tightly squeezed into the alleyway there wasn’t enough space for the doors to open.

  My hands began to tremble and my heart raced. Vincent beamed down at me.

  “Well done, Pet. That was quite fun.”

  I smiled weakly and slapped his shoulder. “I’m not your pet.”

  “Six more days, Pet.” He crooned as he dipped my legs down to the floor and allowed me to stand. My knees buckled like a newly birthed fawn. My lips quivered.

  “We could have died.” I said.

  “You could have died. But you didn’t.” Vincent said. He gripped my hand and pulled me down the street. The police sirens were get
ting louder and my head was swimming.

  Without a word, he opened the industrial side door at the end of the alleyway. I blinked as my eyes adjusted from the harsh spring sunlight to the dim smoky lights of a Fold. Vincent strode forward, allowing my arm to fall loose by my side.

  My hands still shook, adrenaline coursed through me. Even though I knew that the police could not find us in Purgatory.

  I wondered briefly what had happened to create the Fold where we stood. What vicious act had caused a fold in the universe between earth and limbo. I forced my legs to follow Vincent who walked up to a nondescript door that was shielded by a bouncer and red velvet. Vincent nodded once and disappeared through the door.

  I had followed before the door clicked shut. The bouncer said nothing.

  The musky smell of arousal and the heavy tang of blood filled my nostrils immediately. My hand flew to my throat and even though I wore a thick hoodie, I felt cold. I didn’t know where to look. Vincent strode to the bar and waved a finger, promptly ordering another bottle of Krystal. When the Bartender popped the cork, and offered up two crystal champagne flutes, I reached over with shaking hands and took the deep green bottle and drained half of the bubbles without a word.

  When my mouth went numb from the chilled alcohol, I allowed the bottle out of my grip. I’d walked into a daemon, human and whatever else, orgy.

  I avoided eye contact and my violet eyes fell onto a woman with long raven hair, riding a man with red hair. When the man’s emerald eyes met mine over the woman’s sweat covered milky shoulder I jolted. It was Samuel. My cheeks flushed and I forced my expression to be impartial. I could see where he ended and she began.

  I was not a prude by any means. I had watched porn before, but I had never seen a live show.

  I had never connected the fact that Henry was a sex daemon, an incubus. Synonymous with the actual act of sex itself.

  Samuel bared his teeth and thrust into the human woman, his grip on her shoulders was enough to leave bruises. Her head dipped, from an orgasm or from Samuel draining her, I had no idea.