Violent squeezed her water glass so hard it broke. She didn’t know why she punished herself with these memories. She’d been on the Earth almost four hundred years, and the remembering never got any easier.
Giovanni had been the only human worth anything, so she spent a good two hundred years procreating. Half-breed vampire after vampire she bore, hoping her descendants would wipe out the humans altogether.
Violent looked at the knife on her mantel. It had caused her untold pain, but she’d made it a symbol. It kept her focused — the knife that had ended Giovanni’s life.
She needed to breathe, to be away from the art his hands had created. Violent walked out her back door and into her gardens. She lived for her plants now. Her trees, her flowers. She needed to tend to them so they’d make it to the next season. The humans were killing the plants now too.
She leaned down and plucked a brown leaf from one of her babies. Sometimes removing the parts consumed with death gave the rest of the plant a chance. Celeste had started it all. If Violent had possessed the strength to pluck Celeste from the Earth, she and her love might have had more time together.
She looked up at the stars poking through the murky sky. Really it was her own fault for wanting to know the beauty of Giovanni’s dreams. Satan had even warned her. He’d known it was a selfish choice to go to Earth and find her painter. She could almost smell the smoke from his cigarette as she remembered his words.
“Beautiful minion, take my sword. It is your fate to choose. This painter you love? If you make it — and I don’t think you will — he gets a piece of Hell for his very own. Is that a gift or a curse, Violent?”
It had been a curse. She hung her head. There was no changing things now. She’d tried to kill herself so many times before. She longed to get out of her own head. Maybe she’d prefer Hell now. Dealing with the humans was arduous, and the memories of her lost love had become more painful than any of the tortures she’d experienced in Hades.
She could still smell Satan’s smoke. It was so vivid she searched her backyard. The small orange glow from his cigarette gave him away. She could hear his crisp heartbeat now that she was paying attention.
“I’ll bet you were thinking about me, gorgeous. How right am I?” He tossed his drug into her plants.
Violent strode over the soil he’d defiled and picked up the lit trash. She popped it in her mouth like gum, chewed it, and swallowed.
His only reaction was to raise an eyebrow. “Violent. Still as charming as ever.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Satan, you being here can’t be good news. Did you get evicted?”
“Something like that. Call me Jack, for now anyway.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I need your help.”
Violent shook her head and turned her back. “I don’t help humans. Sorry. Leave a message after the beep. Beep.”
“You owe me, Violent.” His voice was quiet and desperate.
She turned and watched as he walked into the pool of light her kitchen window created in the garden. She recognized the look on his face. He was willing to face anything — a sword as long as his leg, a dragon, crawling to the center of the Earth, anything. The man was in love.
“What’s her name, Jack? Does she know she’ll get a piece of Hell for her very own?” Violent smiled a bit as she repeated his warning to her.
“Emma. And I’m not sure she’ll have a mind to know anything by the time I get her out.” He made a fist and gripped it with his other hand.
There was a discreet cough from the dark. Jack rolled his eyes.
“Pardon me.” He held up his hands in surrender. “I meant when we get her out.” He nodded to his left.
A half-breed stepped into view. Violent looked him over like she always did when she met one of her descendants. This one looked a bit like Celeste. She instantly disliked him. A female joined him. She favored the twins. The last stepped into view and Violent covered her mouth with her hands.
She crossed to him so quickly he didn’t have time to seem alarmed. “You look just like him.” She took the liberty of touching the half-breed’s face and smiling.
Jack cleared his throat. “Well, I guess I’ll introduce you guys.”
Violent ignored him, gazing into Dean’s eyes and gripping his arms tightly.
“This angry, jealous asshole next to me is Jason. The pretty little beauty over there is Seriana, and the dude you’re manhandling goes by Dean.”
Violent grabbed Dean’s hands and pulled him into the light. “None of my children have resembled Giovanni this much. It’s like seeing a ghost. A beautiful, perfect ghost.” She looked excitedly at his hands, thrilled to find them dirty and splattered with what looked like red paint. She brought them to her mouth and kissed them. After licking her lips she realized it was blood on his hands — no doubt left from his last feeding — which sobered her a bit.
She stepped away from Dean but kept her eyes on his face. “In all the art he painted, he never added himself. All these years I’ve had only myself and my spawn to look at. But now…”
Jack stepped between Violent and Dean, drawing Violent’s eyes reluctantly back to his own, at least for a moment. “Well, as creepy as all this is, we don’t have a shitload of time. I need you to tell me how to get to Hell. I already went to the place where I came out and fought the dragon with Emma.” He paused and seemed to have to gather himself. “But there was no entry we could find. And these giant mosquitoes can dig pretty fucking deep.” He motioned to the half-breeds with his thumb. “Unfortunately Mr. Alzheimer can’t remember shit about how Emma got to Hell the first time.”
Violent raised one eyebrow and Jason looked at his shoes.
“So, Violent, take me to your leader and make it fast.” Jack cracked his knuckles and lit another cigarette.
Violent tore her eyes from Dean and looked at Jack again. “You were the leader, last I checked. And as far as owing you anything, I’m not so sure about that. All I caused Giovanni was pain and death. How do your friends feel about the lot in life I handed them?”
Jack ran his hand through his hair in frustration. She squinted at his discomfort. He punched a tree and bloodied his hand.
Jason stepped forward. “Ms. Violent? I believe we’re related. It’s nice to make your acquaintance.” He held out his hand. Violent crossed her arms. “There’s a great need for you to assist us. We would appreciate it very much.” He looked so earnest.
She shook her head. “Half-breeds are evil. I know. I raised a bunch of ’em. No matter how nice you are now, blood speaks louder when the time comes.
Jack cursed and stomped on her plants.
Violent was ready to dropkick the ex-Devil when Dean spoke. “Violent.”
He wasn’t speaking Italian, but his voice was deep and familiar. She walked closer.
“Did you love Giovanni?” Dean reached for her hand this time.
“So much.” Her eyes clouded with tears. “But it all ended so badly, and look at what you’ve become. You’re a result of that horrible love.”
“This is a burden I happily bear, knowing now that you made an impossible love possible, even if only for a short time.” Dean smiled broadly.
Violent knew he was playing her. He was using his striking resemblance to unbalance her.
“We’re fighting for another good person. Emma’s just like your Giovanni. She’s good, and she’s dying a little bit every second she’s in Hell. We can save her. Do it for impossible love, Violent. Do it for Giovanni. Make him proud.” Dean patted her hand.
After a moment she nodded. Even though she was answering Jack, she spoke to Dean. “Okay. For Giovanni, I’ll help you find her.”
Dean opened his arms and she stepped into him, closing her eyes and thinking of her past love.
Jack tapped her on the shoulder. “All right, Grandma. Let’s get to work.”
Acknowledgments
This book is the direct result of being loved by my wonderful husband. To my children, I
revolve around you. To Mom and Dad, no dream is too big thanks to your example. To Mom and Dad D, your hearts are limitless. To Pam, let’s always laugh. Karen, that place in Boca will wait for us. To Kim and Jo, tons of thanks. Shannon, girl, I don’t deserve you, but I can’t quit you. Angels and Vixens, you keep it hot. My Bookshelves Girls, we’ll all get there. Alice, thanks for slapping me in the head and motivating me to give Jack room to run.
Jessica Royer Ocken, many thanks to you for your pretty edits. My words adore you. To the exquisite Omnific staff, your heart and dedication is in everything you do. Thank you!
Most of all, to my beautiful, smart, wonderful pre-readers. This story is dedicated to you.
About the Author
There’s always been place in Debra Anastasia’s mind that contains other worlds, other people, and endless outcomes. As a child she played there often — the door was opened by reading. But eventually time and responsibilities clouded this place with cobwebs.
But now… Oh, now. Writing has helped her open that door again, and she was thrilled to find everything still in place and ready to play.
Debra now lives in Maryland with her family, and when she’s up late at night, stories leak from her fingers onto the keyboard. You’re invited to share her imagination, and she promises not to waste your time. “Let me tell you a story,” Debra says. “It is an honor to be your author.”
Table of Contents
Crushed Seraphim
Copyright Information
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Crushed Seraphim Page 24