Her Black Soul (The Dark Amulet Series Book 3)

by A. J. Norris

  He glared at her and another drip spattered him in the eye. “Dammit!”

  This time she giggled under her breath. Aba jumped to his feet. “Is there something you need?”

  She sucked air in between her lips. “Well, I always want something.” She kneaded her bare breasts. The dress she’d worn while on Earth was gone.

  He exhaled a groan. “Not now.” Suzie’s masochist tendencies bored him. It just wasn’t his thing to punish females during sex. Had he still been an angel, he wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with her. He refused to give in on two accounts. One, he wasn’t going to fuck her and two, he wasn’t going to spank her or whatever else she liked. This also included being mean to her because she got off on it. “Why don’t you go join the rest of my females?” Her free reign of his chamber rooms bothered him, yet he didn’t do anything about it. She kept him from being lonely.

  Waving him off, Suzie stepped into the room and laid on the bed. Light from the torches around the room made her skin glow. She adjusted her wings and wiggled her ass until she found a comfortable position.

  With his arms folded across his chest, he asked, “Why are you here?”

  “I’m just curious about something…”

  “What?”

  “Why did you put that angel in the Void?” Aba furrowed his brow at her. “I mean, I think Evie likes him.”

  “Good. That’s what I was hoping for.”

  She widened her eyes.

  Aba exhaled heavily. For some reason, he felt compelled to give her an explanation. “I want her to help him escape. And I know he won’t leave Netherworld without her.”

  “Sooo…you want them to escape? I don’t get it.” Suzie rolled onto her stomach and propped her chin on her hands.

  “If you must know, Evie hid an amulet on Earth somewhere before she fell. I wiped her mind before I found out where.” Why the hell was he telling her this?

  “That was stupid.”

  “I was angry and—forget it. Anyway, I have confidence that the first thing she’ll do is go find it and destroy it.”

  She formed an “O” with her mouth. “So—”

  “So, she helps Virgil escape and she goes with him.”

  “What if she doesn’t?”

  “She will.” He hoped that was true. Twice he’d tried making her leave this realm. The truth was, he’d cleaned her memory so well that the only thing she remembered about her past was her name. Leaving Netherworld would unlock most of her memories, the rest would be on her and Virgil.

  “How do you know?”

  Aba walked toward the door. “He’s her mate. Trust me, he won’t leave without her. Angels are very protective of their females.”

  “Sounds nice,” she whispered.

  He smiled with his back to her. “What was that?”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Evita

  The herd of goat-legged demons trotted past Evita carrying two bloodied, naked human souls and tossed the man and woman into the pit. The woman screamed. Her head hit the edge and she fell into the bottomless hole. Evita cringed in her safe place against the wall, hiding in the shadows. She looked toward the adjacent wall where a half-dozen humans were chained. Each one had their arms and legs stretched out to their fullest extent. A quarter of them had turned their heads away from the sickening, skull-crushing sound.

  The red-skinned furry-legged beasts filed out of the cavern past her again. One stopped and cocked his head at her. She shrunk back, flattening herself to the wall, willing it to go away. He clacked forward. Many of them looked the same, save for the color of their eyes. Each goat-legged demon had a set of uniquely colored irises. Evita’s tattered dress barely covered her anymore and the fabric dipped down low between her breasts. He narrowed his gaze and charged her. Evita had learned early on not to scream when one of the goats made a run at her. The lack of fear often confused or bored them, she wasn’t quite sure which. She kept her head against the wall. The demon stopped by slamming his clawed hands into the terra cotta stone on either side of her head. Evita kept still. He sniffed her, drawing in a long inhale. Evita remained silent. The demon pulled his head back and confusion washed over his face.

  Evita smirked. This wasn’t the first time that had happened, and was also part of the reason they didn’t frighten her as much as they should. Only a few of Netherworld’s other inhabitants scared her. Come to think of it, there was only one she feared: Berus, a bull-headed demon. He wasn’t like the others. His indifference was what scared her the most. The unfeeling monster seemed to be a leader of some sort and was bigger and stronger than any of the goats. Smarter even, despite him being non-verbal.

  The goat-demon before her snorted and the wispy hair around her face lifted. He smelled her again.

  “Did you get a good whiff this time?” she snapped.

  His forehead crinkled. “What are you?” he hissed.

  “Same as you. We both have horns, don’t we?”

  He dipped his head closer but stopped before touching her forehead with his. “What name have you?”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Evita. And you are?”

  An abrupt click-snort snapped the goat’s head around. Evita used the diversion to shove him back. He scrambled, slipping on his cloven-hooves, hitting the ground hard on his ass. Berus stood there with his arms folded, and from the chuffing noises he made, she figured out he was laughing. The bull-headed demon picked up the goat by his horns and flung him toward the mouth of the gaping hole. He hit the ground spread-eagle and spun toward the pit, stopping mere inches before pitching over the side.

  Berus planted himself directly in front of her. Evita scooted her heels against the wall. He grabbed her hands and the cuffs on her wrists slipped down. He wrapped his calloused meat-hooks around her wrists, blood oozing from the slices made by his clawed fingers. Her eyes teared up. He wrenched her arms above her head, trapping her wrists in one hand. The bull-headed beast ran a nail down the center of her chest, leaving a welt behind. Evita cringed and caved in her shoulders. His red eyes raking over her face, Berus sniffed her long and hard then snorted. Although the goat-demon had done the same thing, this was different. She imagined the bull smelled her to learn her scent for later, should the need arise.

  He released her arms. She winced and rubbed her hands, numbed from the hold on her wrists, clenching and unclenching her fists. Berus made a series of clicks and pops, pivoted on a hoof, and stomped off.

  Evita exhaled and bent over at the waist. She slid down the wall and plopped onto the floor with her knees peaked. Often she wished she’d been a better harem member. Aba had removed her from the group of females because of her crying. She had been sad for as long as she could remember but had no idea why. The only thing she knew was she’d experienced a deep sense of loss, though she didn’t know why. Netherworld was her home. Still, how had the angel in the pit known her name? They’d never met.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Virgil

  What the hell was going on up there? His Evie had disappeared and now all Virgil heard was a series of shuffles and cloven-hooves tapping on the floor. He’d calibrated his ears, but when the Damned souls gradually became vocal again, their screams drowned her frequency out. He thought she’d said her name.

  Virgil examined the wall around him, hoping to find some small fissure or finger hold in the terra cotta, anything that would help him climb out. Scratches marred the hard-packed clay but even they were shallow, superficial marks. “Dammit!”

  The mound stirred again after the regular resting period. He flapped his wings but only splattered everyone around him with shit. He was stuck. He studied the putrid pile of bodies, learning the pattern in the chaos such as to what position would give someone the advantage to make it to the top and how many people he’d have to fight to get there. If he stayed off to the side and waited until the mass had almost risen to their highest apex, he could charge over the bodies and push the
top bastard off. Seemed simple enough, but without someone offering their assistance from above, he’d fall short of the goal. He looked up at the opening again and groaned.

  Virgil continued climbing over soul after soul to remain near the top. He ignored the faces, torsos, and limbs he stepped on without the accompaniment of a body. Exhaustion settled into his muscles. It was for this reason, he realized, how most of the souls had wound up at the bottom or in the middle being churned with every upheaval. His frustration with the never-ending cycle reached a boiling point and he growled. But not like before. His entire body quaked from the inside out until he roared like thunder—loud enough that the cavern ceiling cracked and rocks rained upon them.

  “EVITA!”

  His light exploded out of him.

  ***

  Evita

  Evita covered her ears with her palms. The walls shook and the ceiling split, dropping rocks into the Void.

  “EVITA!” the angel boomed, and beams of brilliant light shot out of the pit. She ran toward the trapped angel, tears streaming down her face. For whatever reason, the angel knew her. And she needed the reason why even though it frightened her. The goat-demon asked her what she was and she’d never questioned that once. The only thing she knew for certain was her name.

  “EVITA!”

  She tripped and face-planted onto the unforgiving ground, her teeth gritting when her chin hit. She crawled the rest of the way on her stomach to edge of the pit.

  “I’m here!” she shouted, praying the angel stopped screaming. The ambient sound in Netherworld was loud but not that loud. Others would come soon to see what was happening.

  “EVIT—”

  “Quiet! They’ll hear.”

  The light coming from his eyes and mouth shut off. His tears carved tracks in the slop on his cheeks.

  “If I help you, will you tell me how you know me?”

  “Without hesitation,” he said hoarsely.

  A thick chain was looped around a steel beam above the hole. At one time a crane had been installed and the only remnant that remained was an I-beam. Evita quickly examined how she could lower the chain and realized she couldn’t reach it. The links weighted her down and she was secured to the wall with chains. The bodies inside the pit undulated beneath the angel. Without having to explain, they both understood what they each had to do. Evita laid on the ground, stuck her hands into the Void, and waited for Virgil. He waited for an opening to charge toward the top of the pile. Just before the mass reached its highest position, he leaped over the Damned souls with a roar and grabbed the only one in his way. The angel shoved the body of a large man off the prime spot. He was now in position.

  The momentum of the pile catapulted Virgil into the air as he jumped. Evita thrusted her arms further down. They made contact and his palm brushed over the inside of her forearm.

  She hooked her fingers and his caught. The hold wasn’t strong and would be easily broken. Evita gripped her other hand around his wrist and he her forearm. In this position, she couldn’t do anything other than hold onto him. He kicked his legs when another soul jerked on one of his feet. The human grunted and fell backward onto the others.

  “Try swinging one of your legs and—”

  “Got it,” he said already understanding the idea in her head. After a couple of misses, he placed a grimy foot on the ground next to her. She couldn’t think about what the grime consisted of right now. He braced his other foot on wall. The angel became heavier and he almost slipped from her grasp. A soul clung to his leg. Bruises formed under her arms where the edge dug into her skin. There was no time to consider the ramification of rescuing the dreg along with the angel.

  Red-faced from the effort, Evita pulled with her arms as best she could while the angel pushed himself up using the wall as leverage. She twisted to the side, yanking him and the Damned soul out of the hole. Virgil scrambled away from the opening in the floor.

  She and the angel both lay gasping on their backs.

  The Damned looked at her wide-eyed and crawled toward her but face-planted every few feet. One foot was missing and deep gashes on his sides and chest oozed blood. His eyes haunted her the most—emotionless, like he stared through her not at her. He reached a hand out.

  Evita retreated in a crab-walk. “Get away from me,” she growled. The Damned grabbed the chain attached to her ankle.

  “Don’t touch her!” Virgil shouted.

  “Oh, yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?”

  She hadn’t seen the angel’s approach. One second he had been on the ground by the Void and the next Virgil loomed behind the Damned. He grabbed the man off the ground by the back of his neck. She turned her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Crunch.

  Evita half-expected to be sprayed with blood but when she opened her eyes there was no bloody mess, only the angel squatting in front of her. He cocked his head side-to-side, studying her horns. She covered them with her shaky palms. Funny how she’d never been self-conscious until now.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Amalya

  The portal doors to Arcadia closed behind Elliott. Amalya rested a hand on the wooden panels. Her mate went to plead for their right to raise their baby. She had found out the sex of her little one several months ago but her mate procrastinated about asking Deus, the Creator of All Life, for an exception to the angel custom. Angels were required to give over their infant male children to the Sacred, who raised them to welcome humans into Arcadia or Heaven as they referred to the higher place, after their deaths. Amalya didn’t have any expectations that the answer would be anything but no.

  “You know he’ll be back in another couple of seconds, right?” Max the Healer said from his usual seat, legs draped over the armrest of an oversized purple chair.

  “I know,” she said.

  Elliott opened the doors and white, swirling clouds billowed out. He almost ran into Amalya when he stepped into Earth’s realm.

  “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know,” Amalya said. “Yes I do…well? Wait, don’t tell me.”

  Elliott shook his head.

  “Oh, no.” Her bottom lip quivered. She couldn’t breathe. Elliott embraced her and she rested her head on his chest.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” Elliott sighed heavily and rubbed her back. She sobbed until her nose ran and her head ached.

  Max came over and touched her forehead gently. A warmth passed over her and the throb subsided. It would return, and he likely knew this, but healed her anyway.

  Elliott kissed the crown of her head and stroked her hair. He whispered, “Thank you” to Max, who stepped back but stayed near them.

  Amalya was grateful; the Healer’s presence added comfort.

  “Virgil’s missing too.” Amalya said absently. This wasn’t news to either male. He’d been gone for seven and a half months, almost her entire pregnancy, and she was due any day now. She placed a palm on her lower belly. Virgil had been so supportive of her pregnancy. She’d cried to him about Arcadian customs being antiquated. Remembering how he’d listened to her rant for hours, a tear dripped off her chin.

  Max pressed his lips into a thin line. “Tell me again about the last time either of you saw him.”

  Elliott took a deep breath. “About seven months ago, we had words upstairs in the club. He was drunk off his ass and not slowing down.”

  Amalya added, “And he never came back to the apartment that night.”

  “That’s not like him,” Elliott said. “I spoke to Joelle and he swears he didn’t send Virgil on a task at that time either.”

  “Yeah, you’re right he—” Max started.

  “He hates being alone,” Amalya and Elliott finished Max’s thought. She glanced up at her mate. The rims of his eyes were red. He was as upset as she was.

  She gasped. “You don’t think he fell, do you?”

  “No way,” Elliott said, shaking his head.

  Amalya caught a glimpse of Max in her peripheral vision. By his ex
pression, she knew Elliott wasn’t telling her everything. She stepped back from her mate. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Elliott pinched the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t think it meant anything at the time. He’s always hooking up with some female. But now, I—”

  “What didn’t you think mattered?” she asked.

  “That night at the club…he left with some red-haired woman. I went upstairs and tuned into their conversation before I came home. I wanted to make—”

  “What did they say? Who was she?”

  “A bunch of bullshit. He bought a drink and—”

  “Did she say what her name was?”

  “Ah, Suzie.”

  Amalya couldn’t breathe again for a moment. “I’m sorry, did you say Suzie?”

  Elliott reached for her with a steadying hand. “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh nothing, that’s just the name of Aba’s favorite harem female.”

  “It’s a common enough name. Maybe it’s—” Max said, trying to help.

  “Oh, God, Elliott.” Her eyes zeroed in on the brick path and he grasped her shoulders.

  “Whoa, easy. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence.”

  Amalya knew better. They all knew better. Suzie had somehow tricked Virgil into falling, but how? And why?

  CHAPTER NINE

  Virgil

  Evie was more beautiful than he remembered. They sat crouched together on the ground. A smudge of dirt was streaked across her jawline and chin. Light from a torch far above their heads shone down. Her eyelashes cast shadows on her high cheekbones. Her black horns hadn’t diminished her looks. Partly because he loved her and nothing could interfere with that, and also he knew they were actually once golden wings. Even in the dimly lit cavern, he saw her blush. She was a fierce Warrior class angel in combat, but somewhat demure. His mate concealed the protrusions with her hands.