The blood curdling screech that awaited us stirred me from the drugged-out haze settling in. Julian let out a curse as something flew at him full force before settling on my chest. We weren’t even through the doorway completely, but Bandit was here and waiting.
“Hey…bub-by,” I slurred. My raccoon wrapped his arms around my neck and purred louder than I’d ever heard him. Maybe that was just the drugs.
Julian kicked the door shut behind him and flipped the light on as he moved into the house. My living room disappeared as he rounded the corner to my room. He laid me down in bed, pulling the covers around me. I was already far enough gone that my arms and legs were useless, and the feeling of helplessness crept in. The beast inside me twitched, pacing uneasily. She didn’t like this anymore than I did, but sometimes there was truly nothing you could do except wait it out.
“What can I do?” Julian asked, his voice tense. Strained.
“Lights,” I murmured. Bandit snuggled closer to my chest, and right then it was the only thing that kept me sane. That kept the panic at bay.
“What else? What do you need? How do I fix this?” he asked. I could hear the desperation in his voice, but his emotions were lost on me. I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t feel much of anything, except the contentment coming from Bandit.
“Can’t…” I croaked. “M-m-moira. W-w-wa-want Mmm—” I strained against the pressing weight sitting on my chest, but I hoped he got the message. Eyes heavy and fluttering, I stared at the ceiling. I started to drift across the universe. Time itself was transcended as the violet and blue lights of the club swirled around me again.
I became lost in a world of memories and nightmares. People’s faces, men’s faces, passed me by as I waded through. Then came Josh, and the imp, and the bouncer, and Danny…as they all bled together into one. I saw the faces of times gone by, and they slipped through my fingers like smoke, always eluding me.
But then the faces changed. And the lights grew bright. And when the smoked settled, all that remained was fire. The flames were black and shades of blue as they danced through my dreams.
They were the flames I’ve dreamed of ever since I was a little girl. They were the flames of Hell. The only thing in this world that could outright kill a demon—outside of Death himself. I suppose that should be strange, but I was a demon dreaming of things that little demon girls do. Flames and fire and ash. They gave off no smoke, but they destroyed everything they touched.
It was within those flames that a beast led me, hand-in-hand, to a new place.
Where the pain couldn’t reach me, and the demons couldn’t find me, and people on earth could no longer hurt me.
Because I was one with the flame.
One with the fire that burned inside my soul.
**Julian**
I didn’t know how to help her. I didn’t know what to say that could make this better, or make up for the pain that I couldn’t save her from. The human drugged her with black lotus, and then molested her. He would have raped her, had she not called out. It was the hurt she projected in a cry for help that led us there. That let us save her. I don’t think she even realized she had done it. But if Ruby was as strong as I think she was…we weren’t the only ones that felt it.
If my instincts proved right, demons would be coming for her from all corners of the earth. Some would want favor. Some would seek to control her. Others would simply wish to kill her in a bid to open the gates of Hell.
I thought we had more time. I’d hoped we could get to know her better. I’d wanted her to come to it on her own, but time was running out. Even if her psychic assault didn’t reach another soul past the four of us, we had a bigger problem.
The beast had awoken, and with it would come the transition. Maybe not tonight, or tomorrow, or even next week, but it would come. And we needed to be ready when it did.
Lucifer had created us to be able to handle the beast. To ground her when she could not ground herself. If we were to have any hope of being able to do that, we needed her to trust us.
Trust isn’t earned lightly, and it takes time. More time than we had. If she really was on the verge of the transition, we didn’t have more than a month. And that was a generous estimate.
The front door flew open, and a tiny green-haired banshee stormed around the corner. The girl didn’t even look to me, her eyes frantic as they sought a single person. I moved aside for her, hoping she could do what I and the others could not.
She ripped off her heels fiercely and climbed into bed next to Ruby. Her slender green arms wrapped around Ruby’s slightly wider shoulders. She began murmuring things under her breath, but I closed the door. The things said between two people that close were not meant for others to hear. Certainly not after a night like tonight.
I walked back down the hall and into the living room where the other three waited. Rysten was seated on the couch, staring with a vacantness that was telling. Allistair faced the window, his back to us and his posture stiff. Unyielding. Laran paced before the door and the wind blew harder outside. The moon had been eclipsed by dark clouds as heavy rain came down. The forecast hadn’t called for rain this night, which meant it was War.
“Is it taken care of?” I asked.
Laran nodded. “The bodies have been burned; the ashes scattered. No one will know what happened. They never existed as far as this world is concerned.” He was the most solemn I’d seen him since the Ring Wars.
“And the human?” I asked. If I didn’t have Ruby’s needs to be concerned with, I’d be calling him back from the veil right this moment to make him pay ten times over. Twenty. I could make him relive his death a hundred times.
But it would never be enough for what he did to her, and she didn’t need to know that particular aspect of my power just yet.
“I’ve erased every trace of him online. Social media. Bank accounts. Vendor accounts. Birth certificate. Social security. It’s gone. All of it. But unless any of us suddenly learned how to take people’s memories…it will be impossible to erase his memory from her life completely.” Rysten blew out a harsh breath. “Humans will remember him, but there is no evidence that his disappearance could be linked to her.”
I nodded once, but it was Famine that spoke. “That’s the best we can hope for, unless we plan to kill everyone he ever knew.” I considered the validity of that statement. Weighing the good and the bad, the domino effect that would have.
“The imp with one eye escaped. We need to prioritize hunting him down before he becomes a problem,” I replied. Laran nodded, but he wasn’t as enthusiastic as he usually was about the prospect of hunting. I couldn’t blame him; not when failure sat like a stone upon our backs.
“There’s more…say it” Rysten prompted. I turned to my brother. The darkness I knew well still hadn’t left his eyes. Killing the human wasn’t enough. Many were going to die tonight when this conversation was over.
“The beast has awoken. One of the demons got to her, and she burned him alive from the inside out,” I replied. Rysten nodded. He must have sensed it the same as I had.
“She’s stronger than she realizes. I don’t know how she’s repressed her powers this long, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence she hasn’t gone through the transition yet. Something happened to her, and I’m not talking about tonight,” Rysten said.
Silence spread between the four of us, the air thick with things unsaid.
We saved our apologies, our hurt, our sorrows, because they were not meant for each other. It was not each other we failed, but Ruby. If Rysten was right, it was possible we failed long before we even came for her.
If something happened in her past to cause her to suppress the transition, it was enough to make me question if we were right sending her to this world in the first place.
To a world where monsters and men were the same thing.
Chapter 17
I woke up toasty warm, and panic immediately replaced the calm a deep sleep had given me. My eyes flew open
, expecting flames and a burning house, but no such sight awaited me.
My room was dimly lit, cast in a warm yellow glow. On one side of me, Bandit was sprawled on his back, his head pillowed by my arm that he had drooled all over. On the other side was Moira, still wearing her dress from the night before. Her arm was slung across my bare waist, wrapped protectively around me.
Then the memories from last night came flooding back.
The club. The drugs. Josh. The imp. The bouncer. The fire.
My beast.
I didn’t even need to check that it was true, because she was still there. Right in the back of my mind, watching me and waiting for the moment she was needed.
I swallowed hard, and my throat protested loudly. It was as parched as the desert. I moved to shimmy out from beneath Moira and Bandit, but she tightened her hold on me, and my best friend looked up.
All it took was one look from her and tears formed in the corners of my eyes.
“Oh, honey…” she whispered and held me tighter.
“How much do you know?” I rasped.
“Not much. Allistair came and found me last night. Told me some bad shit went down and you were drugged,” she murmured against my shoulder.
“Did he really say that?” I asked.
“That some bad shit went down?” she asked. I nodded. “No. I’m paraphrasing. He used more adulty words, but I kind of lost my shit because I knew something was up before he found me. You didn’t come back. I was looking everywhere for you. They brought me home and I saw you lying in bed—” She stopped and hugged me tighter.
“I killed someone, Moira,” I whispered.
She didn’t even hesitate. “They probably deserved it.”
I choked back the sob that threatened to escape me. Whether from shock or gratitude, I didn’t know. What I did know was that Moira was the best fucking friend that I could ever ask for.
“You don’t have to talk about it. Just tell me where, and I can bury the body. No one will ever know.” Wet tears streamed down my face as I hugged her tighter. The dryness in my throat stung as I tried to swallow the lump that formed.
Devil knows what I did to deserve her.
“He’s already gone,” I whispered.
“What do you mean?”
I took a deep breath. I was prepared to tell her everything, but not yet.
“Can I take a shower first? I feel disgusting, and after—” I didn’t even have to finish. Moira unwound herself from me and jumped out of bed. Her makeup smeared across her face, and black tear marks trailed from her eyes to her chin.
“You don’t have to explain yourself. I’m going to go start some tea and make a pot of coffee. I’ll be in the living room when you’re done.” She smiled weakly and left me to my own devices. I was probably supposed to cry then. It would have made sense.
Cry for myself. Cry because I killed someone. Hell. Maybe if I were another girl, I would have cried for the man I killed.
They were rapists and killers, and I wouldn’t cry for that.
They didn’t deserve my tears.
I inhaled through my nose and gently removed my arm from underneath Bandit. He rolled over onto my pillow and left a trail of slobber behind. At least some things never change.
The transition from laying down to standing was harder. My head began pounding, and the room swayed. I took it slow, gripping the headboard as I went. When my feet touched the floor, it took a minute to adjust before standing. Oddly enough, the shift to standing wasn’t terrible. My legs felt weak, wobbly. I suppose that getting drugged twice in one night will do that to you.
I made a promise to myself right there: no more bars. Me and Moira could get drunk at home if we wanted, but I wasn’t stepping foot in another fucking bar as long as I lived.
My first steps towards the bathroom were slow and shaky, but they were steadier by the time I reached the door. I gripped the handle tightly, ignoring the mirror as I entered. I didn’t want to see myself like this. That might actually break me.
I crossed the cool tile floors, staring at my feet as I went. My mind was numb. My body acted without thought. The throbbing in my throat stung, but the grime against my skin was worse. I was dirty in a way that even water couldn’t clean, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying.
My skin reeked of sweat and alcohol.
I stepped into the shower, still clothed, and flipped it on. Even the memory of where Josh’s fingers and mouth had been made me want to scream. Not in pain, but in fury.
I tore at the shirt plastered to my chest, shredding the fabric until it no longer clung to my skin, littering the floor of my shower in scraps and pieces. The rest of my clothes followed. I would burn what was left of them before the day was over.
I scrubbed the shampoo into my hair, washing away the sweat, dirt, and ash that coated me. I emptied the body wash onto myself as I tried to scratch my skin clean with the loofah.
My hair smelled of lavender, and my skin was red and raw, but it wasn’t clean enough. Inside me, the beast paced. She didn’t like this. She thought it was pointless. She’d rather be out there burning the world down. I ignored her as I let out the one and only scream I would allow myself.
After this, what’s done is done. I would give myself these few minutes. Not to cry. Not to anguish over the demons that died, or my would-have-been rapist.
I screamed because I could.
Because it happened.
Because I was violated.
Because words could not describe what I felt, but the animalistic roar was as close as I could get.
When my voice broke and my ears rang, the back of my throat raw and tasting of blood, I finally heaved a sigh of relief and let go of the sponge. I turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, feeling lighter than before. I dried my skin with a clean towel and wrapped it around my waist. While brushing my teeth, something caught my eye in the mirror and the toothbrush fell from my fingers.
Five points now adorned my sternum. Black lines connected them. A circle ran around the edges. And the realization of what I was staring at made the beast within me purr.
After twenty-three years of believing I was half-demon, an upside-down pentagram formed between my breasts.
I had a brand. Which meant I would transition.
That brand was Lucifer’s mark.
I tore my eyes away from the mark on my chest and brushed my teeth as quickly as possible. I didn’t want to look at it. Not today. Today, I would be Ruby. Just Ruby. The tattoo artist who had a pet raccoon and a crazy best friend.
Today, I would eat a bucket of Rocky Road ice cream. I would drink two pots of earl grey, and spend the entire day laying on my sofa watching Viola Davis and her team of wannabe lawyers. I would wear pajamas and make Moira braid my hair because I was too lazy to do it.
Today, I was the half-succubus from Portland, who attracted more trouble than even the Horsemen of Hell knew what to do with.
Tomorrow, I would be Lucifer’s daughter.
The demon destined to be the next ruler of Hell.
But today, I was just Ruby.
To be continued…
Also by Kel Carpenter
The Daizlei Academy Series:
Heir of Shadows (Book One)
Trial by Heist (Novella)
Scion of Midnight (Book Two)
Queen of Lies (Coming Soon)
Queen of the Damned Series:
Lucifer’s Daughter (Book One)
Wicked Games (Book Two)
Infernal Desires (Coming Soon)
About the Author
Kel Carpenter is a USA Today Bestselling Author and writer of all things fantasy. She loves reading, watching Netflix original shows, and subjecting her favorite co-author and editor to crazy, harebrained book ideas. Kel currently resides in Atlanta, GA with her boyfriend and three fur-children. When she is not writing or working on completing her senior year of college, she is spending time with her dog, Harley, or teasing her two cats with a las
er pointer.
Join Kel’s Readers Group!
Acknowledgments
This story started as one thing, and grew well beyond what I had intended. I have my tribe to thank for that. Analisa and Carrie are not only my shitty coworkers that bitch with me, and probably about me, but they also are like family in that they’ve stood beside me despite my bad days (and there are plenty of them). My boyfriend can attest to that. Matt has been wonderful throughout my journey as an author. He’s good at remembering to feed me and take me on walks, even when I forget to do so myself. Perhaps the most important person of all though, is my coffee gopher. Not only does she bring me coffee, but she would kill me if she was not mentioned here. So, thank you, Courtney, for listening to all my caffeine withdrawal induced ramblings and being the first person to always read biographies I record for the voices.
And finally, to my readers, thank you for buying my books and enabling my coffee addiction. It means the world to me.
Coming Soon
Queen of the Damned Book Two
Lucifer's Daughter Page 12