Demon's Web

by Laura Hawks

  Demon’s Web

  LAURA HAWKS

  Copyright © 2016 Laura Hawks

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Enterprise Book Services

  Cover art by Priceless Proofing

  ISBN-10: 1533022070

  ISBN-13:978-1533022073

  DEDICATION

  To all my fans and friends who have supported me and continued to do so, I’m forever grateful.

  To my mother… today and always you are loved and missed more than words can ever say.

  To those lost who need to find their way……

  To those suffering and feeling like they are alone…. know we are together in the worlds we create.

  Prologue

  New Orleans. She stood there watching as people came and went, but it wasn’t the humans she was noticing. It was the city itself. An old city, especially in the French Quarter, filled with an air of secrets and shrouded in mystery. A conundrum of old and new, of ancient and modern. Of tradition.

  Sure, to some it was a place to party, get drunk and dance in the streets. To others, it was a place to buy pungent-smelling cigars, letting the bulbous smoke circle with adumbrations around their heads before it drifted skyward to dissipate among the low-lying clouds. Still to others, they were in and out of the various eateries sampling and indulging in the multitudes of Cajun and Creole cuisines scattered amongst the streets. Rich odors of spices, fish, meats and sugar would waft about her.

  Yet, to her, it was an enigma. She had traveled the world over. All the states in North America, all of Canada and Mexico and most of Europe, Asia and Africa, but nowhere did it feel like New Orleans. The closest she could get without actually being here was the old walled-city of Quebec. Even then, she was very aware it was different. True, both cities were settled by the French and retained a strong sense of occupying colonization, but New Orleans was more than that. The city was as unique as they came, emitting an air of luxury, decadence and a grace of old which was lacking elsewhere. At least, as far as she was concerned.

  As she stood there, the city came to life around her. Sounds of music and beer-bottle-top tap dancing abounded. People talking as they passed by. Hawkers calling out their services as they strolled past. Tourists would occasionally stop for the gold- or silver-painted mimes who stood perfectly still until someone dropped a green bill into their pail or box, coming to life only then to momentarily entertain. Many just kept walking, their agendas set for whatever purpose their business entailed, whether seeing the sights or working at one of the many places within the Quarter.

  Through it all, she remained unmoving like the mimes. Still. Watching. Waiting. Soaking up the air about her. She knew she should move, but then, she wasn’t sure exactly where she was supposed to go. For that matter, she wasn’t sure where she had just been or why she was just standing here.

  Despite knowing the city and the vibe it generated, or the fact that she had traveled the world in which she can compare it to, she was lost on everything else…including who she was.

  Chapter 1

  Fifteen years ago:

  Nether Realm:

  Fourteen-year-old Logan stared out one of the very few windows in the only place he’d ever really known. As usual it was mostly dark, but then it was always mostly dark in the realm many called hell. Occasionally, as now, multicolored hues of light would dance through the atmosphere and the darkness would go to a twilight every now and again.

  Logan knew sunlight, though. His father, the demon judge Azamel, would take him to other realms so he could learn more about the universe. Sometimes they were for educational projects, but most of the time they were to indoctrinate the young boy on various creatures and plants which prospered in the land of light.

  However, his mother, Clarissa, never accompanied them on these excursions. In later years, Logan wondered why and would often ask his father about it. Azamel would inform his son Clarissa had some things she needed to get done and would go next time, or she needed the respite from her two men to just relax. Still other times, Logan would be informed his mother wanted her two favorite men to get to know each other better and have quality time together. Logan liked that response the best. He enjoyed spending time with his father, seeing the hustle and bustle of the other worlds. Whenever he was there, the sunlight and warmth seemed to radiate all around him and Logan enjoyed the sense of excitement, which was lacking in the world his father governed.

  Through the window, the lights danced in the sky with a rainbow of colored ribbons swaying to a beat only they seemed to know. Logan was so busy gazing up at the spectacle he didn’t realize, at first, there was a girl who appeared to be about ten years old staring up at him. She was so young, so innocent-appearing and alone, Logan instantly became alarmed for her well-being. It was neither safe nor smart to be outside of the walls which protected him in this realm.

  Logan didn’t know who or what she was, or even how she got there, but he acted on instinct running down the stairs. There were very few ways to gain entrance into the structure of Logan’s home, less even than the amount of windows afforded to the massive stone building. The major entryway was the receiving chamber, opposite a pair of immense deformed-looking winged gargoyle statues flanking either side of the rough-hewn stone fireplace.

  The statues appeared to be skeletons and Mel told his son once they were a species of fearsome demons who were part of his first execution and what he needed to defeat in order to tame this world. The petrified bones served as a warning to others that Azamel was not only demon judge but also, when needed, demon executioner. To get past Mel and his law was neither advisable nor intelligent. The doorway in the chamber served as a portal to the world of light, as well as to the other realms Logan had only heard about in passing or in his lessons.

  The only other accessible threshold into the building was a door which led to a garden. The garden was Clarissa’s greatest pride and joy. It was one of the few concessions Mel made for her to have, yet it only grew one thing: an immense, twisted thorny vine of black roses which bloomed all year long. Mel told his wife it was his way of making sure she got roses every day from him. As a result, Clarissa ventured into the garden daily under the protection of two guards who accompanied her each time, so she could cut some of the blossoms for the dining room and her bedroom. By the following day, they would have withered and died, so she would repeat the process all over again.

  The few times Logan accompanied her, they had to remain within the garden walls and the guards were doubled. Being a curious, youthful boy, Logan wanted to venture outside of the garden. He wanted to explore the realm his father administered, but so often he was reminded it was not safe. His father had too many enemies and some skulked near the manor in hopes of catching Mel or his family off-guard. Many lurked within the realm unable to leave. At times, Logan was under the impression it served as a prison for these demons, but was later informed otherwise. The demons had free reign to be who they wanted to be and live in a place they were not condemned nor ridiculed. They could enjoy their lives fully while being in their natural state. However, like the human world of light, not all were good and decent. And when some tried to leave the realm, it was his father who had to restrain them. Those who succeeded in leaving were then hunted down only to be forcibly returned.

  Some resented his father’s control over the land. They wanted freedom to rein havoc in the Human Realm, or search for objects of old which held great power. As a result, there had been threats to Clarissa and his children: Trinity and Logan. None of which panned out, but Mel was in no way about to take any chances when it came to his new-found family. Azamel had been alone for eons, trusting no one, wanting no one. He focused solely on his duty, protecting the human race from the demons who wished them h
arm.

  How many times had Logan heard the story of his parents meeting? How many times had Mel informed his son he was nothing until she came into his life? Mel had been betrayed by a woman he loved, by his very own mother, by his family, and even his best friend. He had found it better to just do without anyone close. The closest companion he had was his assistant, Shara. Even with her, he didn’t confide much or expose himself in any way. He demanded something, she would see it accomplished; end of story. This was as complete as their relationship had ever gotten: a trusting, slightly affectionate accord between them. Shara knew Mel would keep her safe and she served him well.

  Then, Mel had to hunt a demon who escaped into the land of the humans and who ventured to find a historic relic, which was what Clarissa had guarded. Logan was never told what it was or what it did. They both told him it was not relevant to the story.

  Clarissa didn’t trust Mel when she first met him, either, and Logan found it amusing whenever that part of the story came up. There were times the young werewolf would physically fight him in order to keep from getting close. However, their adventures to other dimensions and trying to keep apart from each other only served to develop a grudging respect, which flourished into a trust, which blossomed into a friendship and finally into a deep love. The kind of love one only reads about in the classic stories of old. Logan could see it, feel it every time his parents were together. It was like nothing else in the universe existed except the two of them and their children.

  The point being, it was unsafe outside of the protective walls and there was a young girl out there by herself. Logan’s youthful exuberance didn’t give him pause as he burst through the door and to the back of the house, where his window overlooked. She was still there, turning to face him as if she was fully aware of where he would be emerging from.

  Logan approached her, then was stunned to stillness when her eyes turned on him. They were so unique, so penetrating. A light brown with rich, orange and yellow specks, which seemed to glow with an inner light. They entranced him and he felt a feeling he had never felt before. His heart sped up, his hands became clammy, his mouth dry. He felt his cheeks redden up to his ears. He was flustered, his breath taken away as he gazed upon this unknown girl before him. He stood staring at her silently for several moments as he was so captivated by her. Long, black hair pulled back into a ponytail, her skin alabaster white. She still held the gawkiness of a young, pre-teen girl, but he knew she would mature into a gorgeous woman. Of everything though, it was her eyes that made his youthful body excited and protective all at the same time. It was only the sound of a distant howl that brought Logan back to his senses.

  “Who are you?”

  She reached for his arm, clasping it within her own grip. “Don’t tell anyone you saw me,” she pleaded, concern lacing her child’s voice. “I know I’m not supposed to be here, but I wanted to see it. The black roses. I’ve never seen black roses and I have heard so much about them.”

  “They are my mother’s,” Logan stated simply, gazing around the open expanse behind the stone structure. He was becoming slightly anxious. “Come inside, where it’s safe. We can talk then.” He hoped if he could convince her to enter his home, neither of them would get caught and neither would get into dire straits, which might otherwise cause them to be punished.

  “I can’t. They will sense me. They will know I am here,” she said simply. “I’ll be in terrible trouble if they find out I’m here.”

  Logan shook his head. He was so confused. She was still gripping his arm and the contact of her touching him didn’t help his current, disconcerted state.

  “Please don’t let them know I’m here. I just wanted to see the roses, but I don’t want to get into trouble or get you into trouble for being here when I shouldn’t be. I just had to see them. Black roses. I just had to come,” she pleaded.

  Logan scrubbed his face. It was a tell-tale sign of discomfort, which he learned from his father whenever Mel was about to give in to Clarissa even when he didn’t want to, just to make her happy. Logan grabbed her hand and pulled her along towards the back of the house.

  “At least tell me your name, so I know who I am taking these risks for.”

  “Jasmine.”

  “I’m Logan. How did you get here?”

  Jasmine giggled, a gleeful sound. “There are many ways in and out of the realm, Logan. It’s only your home that is so heavily protected.”

  “So you just decided this morning, ‘Oh, I think I’ll go and see the roses!’”

  “Something like that.” She again laughed, then gasped as she realized she was in the middle of the garden surrounded by massive, blooming black roses, the scent strong with the flowers.

  Holding her arms apart, her hands down at her waist and opened, Jasmine twirled slowly around, taking it all in. A huge grin appeared on her face as she spun to observe the luscious garden.

  “It’s as amazing as I had imagined.” She stopped and stared into his eyes. It was really the first time she had fully gazed upon him. His hair dark, his body lithe, his arms just beginning to develop into some semblance of muscles, but it was his eyes that captured her breath almost as much as the roses had. They were a vibrant turquoise, incredible and almost ethereal in the depth of color. “Thank you, Logan, for letting me see them. Smell them. You are so lucky to have this available to you every day.”

  “I never thought about it that way. I guess because I don’t know anything different.”

  “Well, you are lucky to be able to visit this garden whenever you want. To smell these roses, unlike any other rose I have ever smelled. The black gives it a slightly different scent. Strong, intense, but sweet and dark. It’s hard to explain.”

  “I’ll have to investigate by smelling other roses the next time I go topside.”

  Jasmine tilted her head to the side as if listening to something only she could hear. She frowned as her focus came back to the young man in front of her. “I have to go before they notice I’m gone. Thank you, Logan, for allowing me to see this. For bringing me here.”

  Logan became antsy instantly. He didn’t want Jasmine to go. “Wait!” he exclaimed, startling them both with the volume of his plea. “Wait,” he said again, more calmly, and turned. His mother had shown him how to pick the blooms with a shear located nearby, so as not to ruin the vines, and he cut one for Jasmine, handing it to her. “You can have this. It won’t last long, but it will remind you of coming here for a few minutes longer. And you are welcome to come back and see it. Whenever you want. I… I would like it if you came back.”

  “I would like that as well, Logan. Thank you again.” She took the flower he offered her and then leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

  She wasn’t sure why she did. It was a spontaneous move on her part. She was sure the urge was a result of adrenaline for sneaking away, seeing the roses and meeting such an interesting boy who was sweet, unlike any of the douches she knew back home.

  The touch of his lips against hers was startling. She felt her stomach lurch and tighten, dissimilar from anything she had ever felt before. What was this new sense she had of wanting more from this boy she just met? More time to get to know him? More opportunities to explore the garden and, of course, more time to kiss him and experience all the new feelings he evoked. She felt things she hadn’t comprehended even existed until she leaned over and planted one on him. Uncertain of her own reaction, she turned and ran back to where she could return home.

  Logan was stunned. His body responded in ways unfamiliar to him and he was surprised by the reaction. He had just started to lift his hands to wrap around her in order to deepen their kiss, but she had already broken free of it, turned and ran towards the back of the house and gods-only-knew where. He stood there, gazing at the nothingness that once was her, stunned she kissed him. His first kiss. Was it hers, too? When realization dawned on him she would not be returning, at least not tonight, he entered the house only to find Shara entering the back room
and seeing him come from outside unescorted.

  Shara stopped when she saw the young lad enter the house without any guards in attendance; a frown creased her brow. Dressed in a simple jeans and t-shirt, her dark hair pulled back tightly into a bun, she recently added glasses to her look. Shara said she didn’t need them, other than she thought it gave her a more professional appearance and she liked that idea. It was her way to seem more mature now that there were children in the home for the past fourteen years.

  Shara looked over her shoulder then rushed to Logan’s side, pulling him into the room and shutting the door firmly, locking it.

  “What in heaven’s name were you doing out there? And alone? You are no longer a two-year-old. You know better than to leave the house without an escort. What were you doing outside anyways? What was so important you had to go out there?”

  Logan tried to think quickly. He didn’t want to get Jasmine in trouble, but he didn’t want to lie, either. “I thought I saw someone out there. I didn’t think. I just went to look.” He hoped she wouldn’t query him further. While it was a partial truth and considered only lying by omission, he prayed it would satisfy Shara. “I just didn’t think. I’m very sorry. Please don’t tell Mom or Dad.”

  Shara shook her head. “You know if they ask me, I have to tell them the truth. But, if they don’t ask, I won’t volunteer the information. You must be more careful, though.”

  Logan hugged the woman, whispering a thank you, before running back up to his room and to the window where he first saw Jasmine. He knew she would no longer be there, nor waiting for him. She would have headed back to wherever she was from, hopefully with more success than he had sneaking back into the house.

  Shara watched him leave before looking around again warily. Once she was sure everything was taken care of and she wasn’t being noticed, she continued down the corridor to the rooms below. It was where the demons were held when they had been caught trying to escape or committed some other crime. She traversed down here often in the days of old to find Azamel administering or overseeing the punishment of a prisoner personally.