“A superiority complex,” he retorted quickly.
I tutted again. If I was hesitant about this plan before, I was stone-certain now. “Dear me, what an awful lot of growing up you have to do. Such a pity you won’t get the chance,” I said. I clicked the portal ripper’s dial forward, back, forward a little more.
Knight watched me with apprehension. “What are you doing?”
I could not have stopped myself smiling if I tried, and I had no intention of trying. “No one will miss you if you are gone. Least of all me. Perhaps Dulcie will, in the beginning, but time will pass and she will come to understand that all of this really was for the best.”
“What are you talking about? What are you going to do to her?”
Honestly, such a cliché thing to ask me. As though he was truly too stupid to figure it out. “To her?” I echoed. “Not a thing. I will continue to protect her as I have always done.”
He shook his head at me in abject confusion.
I smiled. “Alas, poor Vander,” I said. “I hardly knew thee.”
Vander’s eyes widened. “Bram.”
The portal opened behind me, a vague, watery circle hanging in the air. Practically invisible, but Vander could still see it.
“Bram, no.”
“Bram, yes,” I corrected.
The fear swept visibly across his face. The brightness in his skin, the peculiar redness in his eyes, flashed with the light of a distant explosion. He glanced at Dagan before he looked back at me again. “You can’t leave us here, they’ll kill us.”
I chuckled.
You know, the word chuckle is so overused, I think it has lost its original luster. It is a sound like gurgling water in the pitch darkness of a cave, of an oil slick boiling up from a ruptured pipe. It is the sound of the night sky distilled, a barrel of abandoned wine bobbing in a thunderstruck sea. It is a sound reserved for the dark, the uncaring, the stark and the malicious. It is a sound of unapologetic glee, of primordial sarcasm.
This, my friends, is the sound I made in that burning hallway.
“Why, yes,” I agreed. “Yes, they will.”
“No,” shouted Vander, clutching at the bars. His voice echoed back at him as a ghostly taunt. “No! Bram, don’t you fucking dare!”
I waggled my fingers at him. “Now you’ll never be able to harm a hair on her beautiful head ever again.”
With a single step back, I let the portal swallow me. The dungeon blurred and disappeared, and Vander’s screaming cut off with a bright popping sound as the door closed in front of me.
What a stunningly productive day this was turning out to be.
To Be Continued!
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Introducing Angel, book one in my brand new series,
The Sacred Oath Series!
“This may be my new favorite series from H.P. Mallory.” –Terry Tresler, ★★★★★
“This book is unlike any other she has ever written... much more hardcore and in your face!!” –Cooking Mama ★★★★★
“Standing ovation and 5 stars for another fantastic book!” –JM4 ★★★★★
“This book was seriously great!”—Melinda ★★★★★
About Angel, Book 1 in the Sacred Oath Series:
I don’t know who I am or where I came from.
The only thing I do know is that I’m running from something.
And there’s a voice inside my head that guides my every move…
When I’m taken prisoner to be thrust into a lifetime of prostitution, I learn I’m an angel. Yes, I bear the markings on my back: markings that reveal my wings have been removed. But when my only ally, a foul-mouthed sprite, insists my wings are intact, I realize the danger I’m facing.
I need protection. And that protection can only come from three magically powerful men who were destined to protect the balance between shadow and light:
Dragan, a gargoyle and the King of Shadow;
Cambion, an elf and the King of Nature;
and Baron, a vampire and the King of Death.
At one time there were four but Variant, the King of Light, grew greedy and usurped control for himself. He banished Cambion to the fae realm and Dragan to the shadow realm.
And he murdered Baron.
And now Variant is after me.
Read on for a sneak peek of Angel, Book 1 in the Sacred Oath Series!
###
Dragan,
The King of Shadow
I take a step away from the beautiful woman, intent on leaving both her and the annoying sprite, but something pulls me back, as if invisible arms are pushing me to her. The shadows within me are pulling, struggling to maintain their grasp on the unconscious girl. I can feel them wrapping their tendrils of dark mist around her, holding onto her tightly.
“Bloody fuck,” I grumble under my breath as I realize I can’t leave her here, though I also can’t say why. A woman has never had this effect on me.
I wrap her in the bed linens. As soon as I touch her, though, something happens. I feel power pulsing through her tiny body. It envelops my hand and weaves up my arm, into my chest and causes my breath to freeze. It feels like a legion of ants dancing over every inch of my skin, but the energy is beneath my skin, not on top of it, thrumming and crackling electricity.
I pause momentarily, surprised. There’s strength in her. Power. By touching her, I feel my own magic begin to boil up as if it answers her silent call. But this time, the shadows aren’t trying to force me to take her—they’re responding to her, stimulated by her, drawn to her.
I can’t explain it, but I feel captured by her, by the magic that undoubtedly flows within her.
“Didn’t I tell you she was beautiful?” the sprite asks. His voice snaps me out of whatever trance I’ve fallen into.
“No, you didn’t,” I respond, throwing her over my shoulder. Using the Arcane Magic that’s part of me, I imagine everything surrounding me in black. Then, I whisper the words to allow myself to become invisible in the eyes of those who would perceive me.
Blind from sight.
I imagine myself fading into the darkness around me, becoming one with the shadows, one with Shadow Magic that infiltrates me—that is me.
###
Cambion,
The King of Nature
Angels are beings of light, but they aren’t immune to corruption. And I know their proclivity toward decadence and greed better than most.
Then, I remember the visions the angel had...
First, the sex. A not-altogether-unpleasant visual. It was more than a vision, though. Like a dream, the sensation—phantom, but present—has arrested me and now I can’t stop replaying it.
I don’t trust her. And I don’t trust the vision, either. In fact, the more I think about it, the more convinced I become that she’s after something. Women, I’ve found, are manipulative, and the smart ones understand they possess what every man wants between their legs. This one is no different. I’m more than convinced she’s using her extreme beauty to seduce us. And, so far, it appears to be working.
Well, at least on Dragan.
Yet, I, too, find myself craving her. But I’m not satisfied that this desire originates from inside me. Instead, I wonder if I’ve been enchanted. Dragan definitely appears to have been completely bewitched, because he can’t take his bloody eyes off her for more than a few seconds. The barbarian is too stupid for his own good.
I can’t deny there was attraction between the angel and me from the onset. I know that much is true. But the ferocity of my need and my inability to curb it fills me with concern. I’m not a man who obsesses over a woman; I’ve never been that type. I’m too rational, too logical of mind. And yet I can’t stop thinking about this woman—a woman I don’t even know.
She’s placed falsehoods in my mind, I’m sure of it. And these lies are confusing because they feel l
ike the truth.
Her beauty is undeniable, but it’s her power that concerns me.
I’ve seen first-hand the hold she already has on Dragan and I won’t allow myself to become her second casualty. Where he sees an injured doe in the woods, I see an intelligent predator in the midst of setting a very convincing trap…
###
Baron,
The King of Death
Dragan’s eyes are on me instantly. He doesn’t trust me; that much is obvious. But he really doesn’t trust me with the girl. Little does he know I’m uninterested. Yes, I find her as beautiful as everyone else does. But physical pleasures are of little interest to me. The only emotion that drives me is revenge.
I walk far enough that I can still see the light from their fire, but no longer hear their voices. The silence around me is comforting, and I feel myself begin to relax somewhat.
The constant squabbles and dissension between them is distracting and irritating. I’ve been on my own for so long, I find company both disagreeable and tiring. Their constant chatter fills my head and I can’t concentrate on anything. But that’s not the only reason I seek my solitude.
I don’t like the way I feel around that angel. I don’t know if it’s her light that appeals to the darkness within me, but being around her does something to me. It’s almost as if I can feed from her energy. As a vampire, I require sustenance from other beings, something which usually comes in the form of their blood. But with her, it’s different.
I note with interest that I haven’t fed since I met her. And, what’s more, I don’t feel the pangs of hunger. I feel satiated, content, even without nourishment. I don’t understand how this can be.
Perhaps I’m feeding from her life energy? I consider. It doesn’t seem far-fetched. If I am, in fact, feeding from her lightness, I know it’s from her alone. Being around Cambion does nothing other than vex me. Furthermore, I’ve been in the company of creatures of light before and I’ve never felt anything like this.
When I’m in proximity to Eilish, I feel energized, full of life, even. My spirits are improved and this constant darkness that suffuses me seems less… dark, somehow.
It’s dangerous, I think. It’s the type of feeling one could become addicted to.
Not me, I argue with myself. I’ve experienced too much darkness ever to succumb to the light. I’ve known misery and pain such that none other has. It’s been the entirety of my existence. And I’m nothing other than a death dealer. There’s no place in me for lightness.
Angel, Book 1 of the Sacred Oath Series… Available Now!
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ALSO BY H.P. MALLORY
Fantasy Romance Series:
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Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance Series:
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About the Author:
H. P. Mallory is a New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author who started as a self-published author.
She lives in Southern California with her son and two cranky cats, where she’s at work on her next book.
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