Son of Chaos (Dark Provenance Series Book 2)

by Lexi C. Foss

  “A show I’ll certainly enjoy.”

  “I mean it.” I turned to face him. “And that Archdemon better not hurt Trudy.”

  “He has no reason to harm her, love. He needs her for leverage.”

  “Still, she’s a Nephilim, Xai.” Hell wasn’t kind to heavenly beings.

  He palmed my cheek, his gaze intense. “Trust in her to handle herself, Evangeline. She’s trained under the best.”

  My father.

  Me.

  Xai.

  She couldn’t be better prepared. “How did Ashmedai even know about her?”

  “How do demons know anything?” he countered. “She’ll be all right, darling. We’ll focus on finding Kalida—then torture and kill her—and have Trudy back in no time.” He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “Now, shall we visit the armory?”

  I sighed, resting my head against his shoulder. “You always say the sweetest things to me.”

  He kissed my forehead. “Oh, and Gleason mentioned something about new toys as well.”

  “And now you’re just trying to seduce me,” I accused, unable to stop the smile from lightening my voice.

  Xai’s dark energy wrapped around me, caressing my skin and heating my blood. “Always.”

  I tilted my head to gaze into his midnight eyes. “Want to hunt a rogue demon with me?”

  “You know I do.”

  “It’ll probably be bloody.”

  “All the better, love.”

  I smiled. I knew I loved him. “Then let’s play.”

  Because Kalida was just given a death sentence.

  Courtesy of me.

  2

  Will You Slay Demons with Me? Yes!

  The silver blade balanced in my palm, its weight perfect. “I think I’m in love with Gleason,” I admitted, my gaze on the etching of my initials.

  “That’s a shame since I’ll have to kill him now.” Xai handed me a pair of silver-infused heels and eyed my legs. “These will go nicely with a dress.”

  I snorted. “You would suggest that.”

  “Well, I was going to recommend modeling them naked, but we have company.” His attention flickered to the doorway as our demonic allies arrived. One was smiling. The other was not.

  “Why am I here if she has no aura again?” the grumpy Tracker demon, Tax, demanded.

  “Because we may need you to track some of her former associates,” Xai replied as he trailed a necklace up my arm. “This would pair well with the heels.”

  “Naked?” I asked, lifting my blonde hair.

  “Yes.” He deftly adhered the clasp before turning back to his friends. “We already started a list. Review it and tell me where they are.” He gestured with his chin to the paper on the table.

  Tax just stared at him. “Do I look like a dog to you?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “You do have a hound dog’s nose.”

  Xai smirked and handed me another jewelry box. “This is from me.” His gaze went back to Tax. “Why haven’t you started yet?”

  “I hate both of you,” the Tracker muttered as he picked up the list.

  Remy cocked his hip against the table, his green eyes taking in all the lethal toys. “This is making my skin itch.”

  Silver was a demon’s kryptonite, hence it being my weapon of choice and why the underworld eradicated the substance from Earth several millennia ago. Thank the Heavens—literally—for Gleason, my metal-obsessed chemist. The Nephilim had created a line of silver items just for me, in addition to bullets for members of the Dark Provenance, and a few special orders for Xai.

  I palmed the box he’d just given me and opened it on a gasp. A gorgeous sapphire surrounded by diamonds rested in the center of a dazzling yellow gold ring. Not my usual metal color, but I suspected that was the point.

  “The stone matches your eyes when you’re in a killing mood,” he said, removing the item. “And if you shift it just like this, a tiny syringe appears with enough silver for one potent strike. Gleason is working on refills.” He slipped it onto my ring finger and brought my hand up to his lips. “Beautiful.”

  “Xai…”

  Remy cleared his throat and pushed away from the table while muttering, “I almost miss the sadistic version.”

  “Welcome to the club,” Tax grumbled, shuffling through papers.

  I ignored them and lifted onto my toes to thank my dark angel appropriately. “You know me so well,” I whispered against his mouth.

  “It’s about time you realized that.” He palmed my ass, forcing me against him. “Kiss me.”

  “So demanding.”

  “Now, Evangeline.”

  I smiled and softly brushed my lips over his. He drew his hand up my back to my hair, his fingers knotting in my strands.

  “Tease,” he growled, his mouth capturing mine in a kiss meant to punish. My favorite kind. Harsh, hot, and so very Xai. Mmm. I tasted him back, my tongue dancing eagerly with his as he dominated me in every way. Only one man could handle me in this manner—all the others would die—but this being earned my submission.

  Still, I couldn’t help pressing a blade to his lower abdomen in reprimand.

  “We have to work,” I reminded him, sliding the razor edge along his dress shirt hard enough to convey my message without destroying his expensive clothes.

  He caught my wrist in his hand and spun me, placing my back to his front, and caged me in his arms. “Then you should stop flirting with me, Evangeline.” The words were a breath against my ear, his erection firm against my ass.

  Insatiable.

  “You started it.”

  “And you finished it,” he whispered darkly. “You know how much I adore your penchant for knives.”

  “If you two are done, I have a location of interest,” Tax drawled, breaking the moment.

  Xai didn’t release me as he asked, “Where?”

  The Tracker gave us a look. “Take a guess.”

  “Miami,” we both replied in unison, referring to the city we tracked her to after she faked her death and disappeared two decades before.

  “She couldn’t be that dumb,” I added. “Could she?”

  “I didn’t track her aura there, just the one of Geier’s former Ōrdinātums—Sharon. It’s possibly a coincidence, but worth checking.”

  Remy popped up and loosened his neck. “Beach?” he asked, waggling his dark brows. “Let’s go. I’m all for women in bikinis.”

  “It’s the last place we would expect her to go after last time,” Xai said slowly.

  I snorted. “Because it’s too obvious.” Miami had been Kalida’s point of operations when she tried to start a celestial war. Returning there was suicide.

  “But that also makes it an ideal location to hide.” Xai rested his jaw on my shoulder, his arms still solid as steel around me. “No one would expect her to be that foolish.”

  “And it is Kalida we’re talking about.” The same demon who tried to frame me for her own murder by leaving a rusty old blade with my initials on it at the scene. Not the brightest of demons. “If anything, we can see what Sharon knows.”

  Xai nodded. “A reasonable starting place. We can look for any of Kalida’s old contacts while we’re there.”

  “Except a lot of them are dead since it was over two decades ago,” Tax put in. “But sure.”

  Right. Time warp. The whole one-Heaven-day-equals-an-Earth-year thing was really confusing sometimes. What Xai and I had enjoyed as a minor holiday trip back home had equated to over two decades here, changing everything and everyone around us.

  On a similar note… “It’s the last place Kalida knew before being sentenced to Ashmedai’s realm for however many millennia has passed there.” Since Hell worked in the opposite direction—where one day on Earth equated to a year in the underworld—it would feel like a heck of a lot longer timeline to her. “Maybe she did go back to Miami.”

  “It’s worth investigating,” Xai agreed, releasing me. “Grab whatever other weap
ons you need, love. I’ll go make our hotel arrangements.”

  My heels clacked over the marble as I did a slow circle in the hotel lobby.

  The digital age certainly had done a number on customer service. No more reception desks, just booths where patrons could select what they needed. Xai hadn’t needed to do much more than pay electronically before he was sent an electronic key that opened our door to the suite. After depositing our bags—something an automated service attempted to do for us—we wandered back downstairs in our evening attire.

  “No forced interactions with humans?” he mused. “I approve.”

  I pinched my lips to the side, debating. “It’s a bit sterile.”

  “And yet, far more pleasing.” He held out his elbow. “Shall we, darling?”

  “Chivalry?” I slid my arm through his. “Who are you and what have you done with my Xai?”

  “He’s waiting for you upstairs in the suite.” He bent his head, lips against my ear. “Might I suggest we finish this mission before he decides to engage in his penchant for exhibitionism? Because that dress would look far better hiked up around your hips, darling.”

  Delicious heat pooled in my belly as I glanced sideways to meet his smoldering gaze. “Is now a good time to tell you I’m not wearing anything other than two tiny silver blades beneath this very short dress?”

  His resulting growl went straight to my lower abdomen, stoking the fire brewing there. “You’re lucky we have somewhere to be right now.”

  “Or perhaps, unlucky is the better term,” I replied coyly.

  He nipped my ear hard enough to bleed and laved the wound with his tongue. “Careful, Evangeline.”

  “Never, Xai.” What would be the fun in that?

  His dark chuckle vibrated against my skin. “It’s a good thing you’re armed, love. You’ll be needing those knives later.”

  “Promise?”

  He nuzzled my neck. “Yes. Now let’s get going before I fuck you in this lobby.” He tugged me toward Tax, who stood waiting for us in an all-black suit that rivaled Xai’s attire. My deep red dress would hide blood just as well and popped against my alabaster skin, making it a much better choice than the midnight dress code.

  “Sharon is at a dance club about a mile from here.” Tax turned with the words, leading us toward a sleek vehicle with two doors. They lifted before us, revealing the posh two-seat interior. He tossed the keys to Xai while spouting off an address and walked off, presumably to meet Remy somewhere for a ride.

  “Why do you get to drive?”

  Xai smirked as he opened the passenger door. “Get in the car, Evangeline.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “It’s like you want me to stab you.”

  “Foreplay, love.”

  “Unless I render you useless with a well-positioned blade.” I blew him a kiss and slipped into the leather interior, the fabric on my legs inching high to reveal as much skin as possible.

  His lips twitched. “I dare—”

  The crack of a bullet silenced his words.

  I jumped out of the car just in time to catch him as he fell, a thin rivulet of blood streaming from the indent between his eyes. “Xai!”

  He lay motionless in my arms as I collapsed to the concrete, screams lancing the air around us. I barely registered them, my attention on the unconscious male in my arms.

  A too-fresh memory blossomed, one where I thought I’d lost him forever. His death an imprint still branded into my heart.

  Not again.

  I refused to lose him.

  He’s fine.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  How? Why? Who?

  A crushing reality, fracturing my soul in two…

  Get it together, Evangeline.

  It was too soon. I’d only just brought him back, only just agreed to finally be his. After so many millennia of working toward this—us—I refused to accept this fate. To even acknowledge the possibility.

  Just a bullet.

  Focus!

  I closed my eyes, forcing my mind to override my heart. Swallowing my terror. Knowing he would be fine. He would wake up. It took a lot more than a gun to kill one of our kind. Even if it was silver, he’d be fine.

  He’s fine.

  But the second I used to gather myself was too much.

  A rookie mistake born of emotions and not the longevity and knowledge of my birthright.

  I knew better.

  Too late.

  The barrel of a gun touched my temple.

  A cruel laugh tickled my ears.

  “Predictable,” someone growled.

  And the world went black.

  3

  Well, This Sucks

  Brimstone.

  Sulfur.

  Burning flesh.

  All scents I recognized, but it was the delirious sensations that confirmed my location. My stomach heaved from the wrongness surrounding me, my mind fracturing beneath the weight of depravity.

  Angels didn’t belong here.

  Not even the Fallen ones.

  Xai, my soul whispered, longing for his strength through our ethereal bond. Too far away. I couldn’t pull energy from him here—only the bare minimum to stay aware. Without my ties to him, I’d be lost in an unconscious stupor, suggesting I’d been in Hell far longer than ever before.

  Had it taken me longer than normal to recover from the gun wound to my head? Because I was in Hell? Had I been shot or just struck?

  So many questions.

  Too little answers.

  “I think she’s waking up,” a gruff voice announced.

  Oh, you’re a smart one, I thought back at him. Well done, you.

  “Good,” a harsher voice replied. Throaty and feminine, and not at all familiar.

  Whom had I pissed off this time to warrant this little trip to Hell? The list was endless considering all the lives I’d taken throughout the millennia. A consequence of my job. For some reason, they blamed me for my having to kill their friends. If they had been good little demons who behaved, my job would have been moot. But no, they all had to go causing destruction on Earth and attracting my brand of punishment.

  Damn demons. They never wanted to take credit for their own errors.

  I would have sighed if my lungs were on board with the motion. The cloud of smoke didn’t help, and neither did the stench of torture suffocating my nose.

  Yeah, this was going to hurt. Especially considering I could hardly breathe, let alone fight.

  I took stock of my bound hands and feet, the torrid air touching my exposed torso, and the metal chair beneath my bare ass.

  Naked and in Hell. Not my proudest moment, but I’d survived worse.

  A smack across my face had me biting back a curse.

  “Oh yeah, she’s awake.”

  Another smack had me glowering up at the hazy face above him. Words failed me since my vocal cords were coated by Hell’s atmosphere, but I attempted to convey my irritation through my eyes.

  “There she is,” the gruff voice announced. He sounded like a dipshit, so I gifted him that nickname.

  “About time,” his counterpart muttered in that hoarse voice.

  And I hereby dub you Shitmeister.

  Brilliant. Now that they had names, they could die. Just as soon as I figured out how to move again.

  A sharp tug forced my head back to stare into a messy blob. Pale skin, maybe dark hair. Couldn’t tell. Seemed to be a big messy blob of humanoid demon. Blinking didn’t help either.

  “Oh, no, I want you fully engaged.” Shitmeister followed the bitter words with another slap across my face. “Join us, Eve.”

  Sure. Just untie me and I’ll happily hit you back.

  Icy liquid shocked my bare skin as one of them dumped what had to be a gallon of water over my head.

  Fuck!

  Now, that was just uncalled for.

  Another bucket swiftly followed, sending a jolt down my spine. And by the third one, my vision was clear and focused on Dead Man Number
One, also known as Dipshit. His lips were stretched in a pleased grin, his hazel eyes brimming with pride at having doused the poor Fallen Angel in water.

  Something about him struck a familiar chord. Was it the mane of dark curls? That lithe yet athletic build? The handsome lines of his face?

  Hmm. I couldn’t quite place it. Nor could I identify his demon heritage. How odd.

  “She’s awake now,” he announced.

  “And pissed,” I added. “Good job.” Because I would be killing him first after I freed myself.

  The only positive of the water? I realized I wasn’t nearly as bad off as I thought. Xai’s essence pounded through my spirit, granting me the ability to function far better than most in my situation.

  Which means he’s definitely alive.

  Not that I expected otherwise, except for that one moment of weakness. Fucking memories.

  A chair scraping over rock pierced my ears. “Wow, that’s a horrible sound.” I winced as it increased until Shitmeister stood before me. A female, if the curves were anything to go by, and, yikes, she had a very unfortunate face with scars riddling every inch of her exposed skin.

  She flipped the chair around and straddled it, crossing her leather-clad arms across the back, her gloved fingers tapping a rhythm. “Eve.”

  I met her dark irises, a note of recognition flaring inside of them. “Kalida?” I asked, shocked by her ghastly appearance. “You look like hell.”

  Her lips twitched, whether in a grimace or a grin, I couldn’t tell. “That’s what happens when you’re tortured for long enough. You stop healing.”

  “Huh.” I eyed her destroyed skin and the silver streaks marring her black hair. “It’s a good look for you.” And deserved after everything she’d done.

  Another twist of her mouth. “I’m very glad you think so, Eve.” She continued drumming her fingers, her head tilting slightly. “I remember everything.”

  I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. “Congratulations?” I remembered a lot too. Like her trafficking demons onto Earth as part of some fucked-up plan to dethrone her father and replace him with Geier, the former Demonic Lord of North America. That didn’t go so well for her. Case in point, her face.