The Devil's Plaything (Ceasefire Book 2)

by Claire Marta

  On another inspection, I find my leather holster and ammo stashed at the bottom. Reloading and checking the two knives, I shrug it on. The familiar weight relaxes and focuses me for what’s ahead.

  I am a storm.

  A hurricane.

  A force of fucking nature which will not be stopped or reasoned with.

  I will wreak chaos.

  “You’re better off coming with us. There’s no way you’ll find Markaz now. He’ll be long gone now that I slaughtered my way down here.”

  Ignoring Raziel’s words, I concentrate on the melodious notes that have been playing softly in the back of my head. They grow stronger with driving purpose. I’ve tapped into every facet of what I truly am. From here, there will be no going back. Whatever hopes I had at salvaging by ink-stained black soul are forever lost.

  Slinking insidiously, the shadows come to my call. Behind me, I hear the Nephilim swear. Air shifting, I know he’s reaching for me, but I’m enveloped by the gloom before he can intervene. The fire of my rage had turned frozen with a fury that burns. Now Markaz will learn the torment of cold unfeeling ice which sears much deeper than its counterpart.

  The world shifts around me. I know with certainty the shadows will take me where I want to go. As they whisk me to my destination, I hear ominous whispers. Unfurling around me like petals of a flower, they stretch out into the darkness. The light of the high moon bathes the untouched white landscape in a silver glow making everything brighter.

  Wailing. A new-born’s frightened cry pierces the silence of the night. Beyond the expanse of the open clearing, I spy two robed figures stalking away. Bare soles becoming numb from the bite of the snow, I ignore it as adrenaline kicks in. I jog to intercept them. My eyes sweep the area every few seconds for any surprises, but nothing stirs.

  Juliana.

  I never got the chance to hold her. They took her from me, but tonight I intend to take her back and never let go.

  “Miss me, daddy dearest?” I call in the sweetest of voices.

  Swivelling in astonishment, Markaz cradles a bundle in his arms. The wail comes stronger this time.

  Attention latching onto the tiny fist I see waving from the furs, I fight every instinct to crowd his space and snatch her back.

  “Only the Devil has the power to command the shadows so completely.” He tells me in astonishment.

  I sense the last of them seep away, merging back into the dark.

  “I guess they’ve decided to obey a new master.”

  Turning to his companion, he gently places his burden into the waiting embrace. “Knell was supposed to be training you.”

  Freeing my gun, I tap the barrel against my lips thoughtfully.

  “Was that his name? I killed him right before I ended Ethan who was in the middle of abusing my sister.”

  “That was never part of our agreement, Markaz. The girl was never to be touched.”

  That angry voice. Sensual, lethal, it has the power to liquefy my bones. Sweeping up the heavy hood, it’s owner bares his cruelly angelic face, displeasure clear in his expression. All my attention centres on the dark man. His eyes hold mine.

  Lucifer.

  Colour ebbs from my cheeks. “You’re in on this?”

  Markaz laughs nervously. “Who do think was the one to take your baby from your womb? He had his priests perform the ceremony. Cut you open himself. We’ve had a deal for months. I get a kingdom and he gets the child with no threat from me.”

  He’s been pulling the strings to this fucked up morbid chess game the whole time. If they expect this news to cripple me they’re going to be disappointed. Violence, pure and undiluted, consumes me completely. Music pours through me. Everything I have endured at their hands fuels the burning acid of pain. I embrace it willingly.

  “Our game is finally at an end and it’s time to say goodbye, my Flower.” Lucifer looks towards his companion.

  Hysterical laughter rises in my throat. “No, it’s time for you to die, motherfuckers. Let’s play.”

  They’re about to learn I won’t be the victim of their games any more. Aiming, I unleash my anger with a twisted smile painted on my face. I’m an expert shot, but not enough to risk my daughter. Instead, I focus on Markaz. One less arsehole to deal with.

  As each blessed bullet rips into his torso, he jerks. Blood blossoms from each neat hole, but it doesn’t bring him down. Bellowing like a demented elephant, he swells, growing in size. Veins popping in his neck, he charges before his horns have a chance to fully extend. Visage monstrous, he reveals what we are. A beast.

  The thunder of his feet powering him across the frozen lake splits the air. Unsheathing a knife, I fire a few more times into his torso. He expects me to go down easily. The fucker may have fathered me, but he doesn’t know what I’m capable of. His muscular frame is unadulterated strength, but it also makes him cumbersome. I see my advantage.

  Dodging clear of his first punch, I drive the blade into his exposed side to the hilt. Warm and wet, the spurt of his blood is welcome. His other arm swings my way, but I’m ready for it. Tearing the knife free, I run the length of its sharpness along his uncovered forearm, cutting open a gaping gash.

  Markaz roars.

  Hand slick with the evidence of my small victories, I dart under his flailing arm. He’s a hardy cocksucker. More super juiced than any berserker I’ve come across before, but still sloppy. As a strategist he creates war, plots every detail from the safety of distance. Has others fight for him. Lacks the skills a warrior needs. I, on the other hand, have always been knee deep in death.

  The smell of burning flesh is a sickly aroma as the blessed bullets sear within his body, but still, it doesn’t slow him down. Delivering shallow cuts, I litter his back and anywhere else exposed.

  I’m drunk on violence. The need for revenge. I want to bring them to my personal Hell. Feed my hunger with their blood and screams of mercy. The entirety of my being advances higher in a clarity of bloodlust. Transforming me into a hurricane of sharp precision. A force of nature; both majestic and deadly.

  Spinning, Markaz lunges out with brute force intent on ending my vicious attack. In a graceful, revolving whirl, I move clear.

  “Can you try harder? I’m getting bored already.”

  The music in my soul continues to rise towards a delicious crescendo.

  Spittle frothing from the corner of his mouth, he snarls. “You’re a cocky bitch.”

  A sudden gush of pain jolts through my ribs. Doubling over from the slash of his claws, the gun in my hand is knocked clear. My agile movements only save me from another pitiless fist. Skidding across the ice, a hiss escapes me as tender skin scrapes the hard surface.

  “I’ll cut out your tongue and use it to clean my boots when this is through.”

  Giving him the middle finger in answer, I quickly scan the area for Lucifer and my daughter. The arsehole hasn’t moved. Expression impassive, he continues to watch us battle. I hope he’s taking stock of what will be coming his way. As soon as I’m done with Markaz I’ll have the Devil’s head as a trophy.

  Tightening the grip I have on my knife, I circle Markaz. I know I can’t underestimate him. Arrogance will get me killed. Maintaining a cool detachment, I push ego aside.

  With a burst of unnatural and unanticipated speed, he attacks. Clutching me around the throat, he lifts me effortlessly off the ground.

  Panic flares low in my belly. Eyes going wide, I claw at his arm. Squeezing tight, he crushes the flow of oxygen to my lungs. He’s going to break my neck. I recognize the stillness that washes over him. Jamming the blade of the knife into his throat, I cut a jagged opening in his flesh. Locking my legs around his waist I swing around onto his back the second he releases me.

  Raining down blow after blow with my elbow onto his skull, I use the tip of the blade to rip at his exposed neck, tearing it away like fine paper. There’s no way to get to his vital organs without his retaliation. Blood pours from the damage dealt as he writhes and screams
desperate to dislodge me.

  Hand groping up, he fists a chunk of my hair. Tightening, he yanks with a strength that not even I can defy. Airborne, I’m not prepared for the slam of a solid surface against my back. Bruised, winded, I have no time to catch my breath. Rolling to the side, I find my gun within reach. Snatching it up, I scramble up on shaky legs.

  With an inhuman roar, Markaz rams into me with the force of a truck taking us both off our feet. We hit the ice. Barrel pressed to his chest, I pull the trigger. The bullet strikes, ripping through his flesh and muscle just shy of his heart. The sound of cracking is swift and thunderous, roaring through the twilight.

  Realization comes quickly, but not quick enough. Sinking through the rupture we’ve created, I gasp from the sharp chill of the frigid depths. Scratching in panic, my frozen fingers don’t find purchase in the slippery sides. A hand manacling my ankle draws me down.

  With one huge breath, I’m dragged beneath as Markaz takes me to join him in his watery tomb. Gaze fastened on the surface above, I catch sight of a form staring down at us from above. Safely swaddled in a blanket, my baby is wrapped in his arms. Emerald green eyes watch me mercilessly, chilling me to the bone.

  The Devil has his daughter.

  No emotion shows on his handsome face as I sink farther. Swiftly turning, he walks away. Screaming in outrage, my mouth fills with water. I’ve been discarded. Left to die now that the fucker has what he wants. Emotions bleed out of me. I’ve played my part and he’s finished his game.

  Claws rake into my foot. Angling my head down, I kick at Markaz with the other. A line of crimson streams from the bullet wounds in his chest. Winter blue eyes meet mine for a moment. Hatred. It’s clear and in that second I know this needs to end now. We plummet together into the murkiness beneath.

  He clings to me with a death grip as we speed in our descent. This motherfucker won’t quit breathing. He’s an immense pain in my arse. Unsheathing a knife from the holster at my back, I drive it through his evil heart without remorse.

  The notes of the song become echoes of a sweet corrosive melody that die away in my head. Warmth tingles through my hands. Power burns up through the layers of my skin in a virtuous desire to cleanse and purify. A wave of pain hits me as claws pierce my side. Adrenaline masks the debilitating injury.

  Again and again, I thrust, angelic light pulsing through my fingertips, ingraining the blade with the force of my slipping sanity. It’s not my brother, but it still hurts ending the shell that once housed him like this. My purpose was to protect him. I have to see this as a way of setting him free, if by any chance, a fragment of Nathan remains.

  The gloom swells below him. He writhes, convulsing as the last of the air leaves his lungs. I watch his eyes become glossy and vacant with death. Eerily still, he vanishes from sight.

  Gaze rising, I struggle against the pull that has me in its grip. It’s dragging me down. Curling around my legs, tugging me into its frigid blackness. The need to breathe clamours through me. The surface of the water shimmers above, calm and welcoming. Kicking my legs, I swim with all my worth, ribs throbbing as blood loss makes me woozy.

  Inches from the surface, the current pulls me back. So tired now, my movements are slower, sluggish. I’m fighting a losing battle. Sinking deeper, legs exhausted, unable to hold my breath any longer, cold-water rushes into my mouth.

  I’m going to die. Again.

  This time I know there will be no coming back. The thought splinters my oxygen deprived mind. I want my baby. She deserves a life with a mother. With me.

  Lungs shuddering, feeling as if they’re about to explode, I muster the last of my strength. Darkness swirls into my vision. Silent, subtle, it surrounds me.

  Death.

  We’ve met once before. It looms, waiting to claim me in its bony icy embrace once again. My body will be left to float forever in this peaceful grave. I’ve played the Devil’s game and now he’s taken his due. The ultimate price. My life.

  Abruptly, the sensation of being towed upwards registers. Head breaking the surface, I drag in a tortured gasp, water streaming from my mouth and nose. Red and black blotches dance before my eyes. I’m pulled into a pair of strong arms.

  Lucifer.

  I don’t miss the sob that escapes him. He holds me so tightly I can barely breathe.

  “It’s all right, Mavi. I’ve got you. You’re safe, my brave one.” He croons in the gentlest voice I’ve ever heard against my damp hair. “Your trials are finally over. Rest.”

  I sag into him with relief. Exhausted, I allow myself to slip into sweet oblivion.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A gasp explodes from my chest. Eyes snapping open, it takes a moment for my dazed brain to kick in. Lucifer’s bedroom. Soft furs caress my naked skin where I’m enfolded in the centre of the massive mattress. The Lord of Hell is nowhere in sight.

  Sitting up slowly, I shove dishevelled black locks out of my face. All the bloodied sordid events of the last few days come flooding back.

  My baby.

  Where the fuck is she? A desperate need to find her drives me. Rolling off the bed, I find my clothes neatly folded and waiting for me on a chair. Dressing quickly in jeans and t-shirt, I shove my feet into the trainers.

  Slinking from the room, I make my way down familiar stone corridors. A new inner instinct guides me. Silent, focused, I keep my steps light as I listen for any signs of life. Nothing stirs. Is this another game? A hoax? Seeing an open doorway my feet automatically move towards it. I stop dead in my tracks.

  The room is spacious, light, and airy. Decorated along the walls, pretty pink wall paper is dotted with white, chubby, fluffy cartoon sheep. A tall dresser stands against the wall the drawers painted a matching shade. On the other side is a changing mat stocked with wet wipes and diapers. Stuffed toys of all shapes are exploding out of a wooden chest.

  Hand rocking a white cot in the centre of the room, a blonde demoness kneels on the floor, humming.

  I see red. This is too much. He’s gone too far. Every piece of me has been stripped bare. Now it’s time to cleanse myself. I’m not prepared to sacrifice anything more for him. Here, I draw my line in blood and pain.

  Sensing a presence, her blonde head whips up. Eyes locking with mine, the bitch gives me a hiss. With purpose, I stalk into the room. Music floats through my head, darkly delicious and destructive.

  Sliding a dagger free from beneath the cot, she scrambles to her feet to meet me. Does she really think she’s going to keep me from my child? I go for the brutal approach. Fast, hard. Blocking her pathetic attack with a forearm, I send a fist into her ribs. Pain twists her features.

  I’m sure she’s had to defend herself in the past. Maybe killed rivals for intimidation, but I’m like nothing she has faced before. It doesn’t take much to disarm her.

  Ramming the knife home, I send it through her chest with all my force. The damage is done. The metal has slashed a hole in the organ, pumping blood through every vein, now struggling to carry on.

  Straining, fighting against my hold, strength quickly seeps from her frame. Breath laboured, her body desperately tries to hold on. I feel every spasm, each muscle jerk. Releasing my grip, she crumples to the carpet.

  Crimson spreads, staining the front of her gossamer thin blue dress. With detached interest, I admire the way it soaks the material, turning it darker. Such a pretty shade. Blond hair spilling out across the floor, she stares up at me with glassy eyes, appearing peaceful for someone who just died in a ruthless way. Gripping the slick hilt covered in her blood, I rip it free. Wiping the blade clean on the dead female’s skirts, I slip it into its sheath before securing it in the waist band at the back of my jeans.

  A gurgle breaks the silence. Attention snapping to the cot, my heart thumps a mile a minute at the sound. Calmness from my fresh kill spirals away.

  This is too close to the fucked-up dream I had, but I have to look. She’s what I have been searching for and I can’t stop now. There is no avoi
ding this. Dread churns my stomach with tense cramps.

  Creeping forwards, I edge closer until a pink woollen blanket comes into sight. One more slow step and I can see over to the occupant dozing inside.

  Juliana.

  Sleepy green eyes open to meet mine. Thumb wedged between puckered lips, she sucks furiously on the digit. She looks so peaceful. A miniature being in all her perfection.

  Love. It spreads warmth in my chest along with awe and amazement. Reaching out, I marvel at the downy smooth softness of a pink cheek as it meets my knuckles. Tiny hand reaching up, fingers curl around one of mine.

  Carefully as I can, I scoop her up to cradle her in arms eager to finally hold her, but at the same time scared I might break her. She’s like a doll. Fragile and precious. It makes me aware just how vulnerable my daughter is.

  Nuzzling a tuft of dark fuzzy hair, I breathe in her newborn scent. God, she smells good. Like warm vanilla.

  “It’s ok, sweetie. Mummy’s got you now,” I croon quietly. “And I’m never letting you go.”

  Kicking her legs, Juliana becomes more active at my voice. Drinking in the moment, dampness fill my eyes. She’s more perfect than I ever could’ve dreamed of. I’m her protector now and for as long as I live I will love her until my last breath.

  Chin trembling, the tears break like a dam, rolling down my face as I sob. Rawness colliding with hope. Every defence I have washed down by the new life I’m holding in my arms. A baby.

  My baby.

  Sinking to the floor, I rock her as she begins to fret, her own startled cry joining my own. It makes everything more real. Shoulders heaving with emotion, I inhale a recovering breath, struggling for control. This is not the place to break down. Not now. I need to take us somewhere safe. A place where no one can reach us.