by Kai Leakes
Silence drowned out the world then the idle strand of blond hair fluttering in the wind to fall by her feet brought back a clanking noise then shriek with Kyo’s voice echoing around her, “Demon bitch!”
Sanna took that as her cue to move to safety, keeping her eyes on the second demon. She noticed Khamun’s form move under his blankets to look her way and she felt ever more foolish. She should be able to handle this but no, here she stood standing like a fool, feeling defeated. She dug her nails in her staff. Anger made her unhook a clear diamond and silver dagger chained to her wrist. A slow thumping pressed into her temples and tears blurred her vision but her eyes stay locked on that Anarchy Demon before her.
She felt Khamun’s eyes on her again. She sensed him. He was ready to step her way but a quiet energy that made the hairs on her body stand at attention had her excited. She studied his tumbling hair, noticing the swirling tattoo against the side of neck softly light up as he stopped in his tracks. A slow, cunning smile spread across Sanna’s beautiful features and her eyes shifted into an illuminating silver. Instinct caused her to drop into a low stoop. Her fist nestled to rest against the pavement.
In the other hand, the dagger she held pressed comfortably against the small of her back. “Oh you asked who I am? I’m that foot in your behind. Let’s do this.”
Everything she learned from her trainings as well as her past memory teachings unlocked in her mind like a flood. She leisurely rose up as if in slow motion. All fear she carried melted away and she charged headlong forward toward the growling demon.
Massive claws swiped across her way making her spin on her heels to the right of the demon. Using momentum to help her slide flat against a wall, she lunged her dagger behind her into the demon’s ribs. A satisfying metallic smell wafted in the air with a high-pitched scream. Black-red blood trailed to where the demon sat crouching. Sanna used the precious time she had to lock eyes on the scared child, and then scoop her up in her arms. They moved down the alley toward a hidden Khamun. The closer they got to him, the harder Sanna’s heart beat until something within her told her to duck.
Cradling the child against her, she shifted on her feet to duck in a slide. The jarring slam against her spine brought tears to her eyes. Sanna thought she felt her own blood spill down her side only to feel the little girl slump against her instead. Is she hit? Is the little girl hit! ran in her mind.
“Please no!” ripped from her lips.
A quick glance had Sanna’s pumping heart stop briefly. Blood was everywhere. Tears slid down her cheeks and Sanna stopped where she was to lay the child down. Instinct was her teacher, telling her to bow over the girl in prayer for her not to be wounded. While her hands slid over the girl, San was rewarded with the thorny feel of a talon in the spine of the little girl’s back.
Her hands started to shake with anger. Her senses flashed red while she carefully pulled the talon out. She was so sorry for the child. This should not have happened, played around in her mind. Sadness engulfed her while she kneeled over the unconscious child.
Her mother used to hold her whenever she was hurting and for now, that was what she felt like doing. Sanna pressed her hands over the girl’s wound rocking her back and forth in her arms. Her tears splayed across the little girl’s face and her body quaked with her agony in not being able to save the girl.
Sanna could feel the demon watching in amusement. Through Kyo’s eyes, she saw how he noticed the way her skin illuminated as if it were warm gold. His incessant laughter was full of satisfaction, and malice fell upon her ears before he casually walked forward then ran at her. His enormous form hunkered down then tackled Sanna, causing both her and the fallen little girl to tumble backward on the concrete.
Sanna found herself pinned by the Snatcher’s large form. His sour breath and ironclad grip around her neck choked her while he forced his face into her own.
“So you are the bitch our King put a hit out for. You seem weak and worthless. I’ll enjoy bringing you to my Sovereign,” the demon roared low against her ear.
Sanna frantically screamed in disgust. Her skin felt as if a million beetles were crawling within and on her skin. She felt her body lock down from a multitude of seizures that pressed against her. A memory from her past let her know that this entity fed on its prey’s mind, toying with their worst fears. Hands reached for her, pulling at her, touching at places that no one but her Khamun had ever touched and she cried at the pain being inflicted upon her.
Moist breathe bristled against her skin. “You’re so weak, and so delicious in your fear and anger. I never thought you’d be so easy to have; others were weak fools! Now give me more, pretty Oracle.” The demon continued his taunting, enjoying every minute of it. “You are so frail, so useless against us. Your true self lost to you, huh? My King will enjoy this information. Let me in deeper. I like that tightness you are giving me.”
Sanna’s eyes ripped open at the sensation of Khmaun’s burning anger close by. She had begged him not to intervene when it got too hard for her and right now she wish she hadn’t. The demon’s mental invasion made the pit of her stomach bottom out. She jerked forward then slashed, before clawing at the demon. A force from within her made her punch forward to slash vertically again.
The sensation of uncomfortably hot, spongy tendons embraced her fist and arm. She knew she felt the heating dagger still in her hand. Both the dagger and she lit up in eternal light. The demon tried to pull away but she only pressed her body closer to wrap her legs around its waist. The tentacle he had implanted in her mind shriveling away, breaking off into a husk. Satisfaction strengthened her resolve to press on while her incisors ripped from her gums into its battle length with the sudden need to feed.
“I’m so hungry,” fluttered from her mouth, in which Sanna complied giving into that burning deprivation. Hard bone inserted into tough, sinewy flesh. Her tongue flittered then pressed against the flush of hot, thick liquid. She tasted the salty, metallic rich essence of the demon and suddenly millions of screaming voices filled her mind. The airy evanescence impression of something she could only describe tasting like cotton candy hit her palate. She knew this had to be the sins of every human, Nephilim, and other demons this monster had ever met.
This bastard was good at the game of blending in and taking what he wanted. He and his “wife” were part of an international banking and financial conglomerate. They stole money from many unknowing customers by making them sign up for predatory loans, stale stocks, and failing bonds. They stole many poor’s or working poor’s homes by buying their land from under them.
They were also in the designer drug game and human trafficking market, of which this little girl was going to be the next victim. They intended to turn her into their human doll by shipping her off to a client in Paris with a load of designer drugs placed upon her. The little girl’s parents had been college graduates deceived into believing that they were signing up for an international job program. This program was told to pay for overflowing college debts, but in reality, the foundation stalked and recruited only to traffic the people who became a part of their company. This was madness!
Ripping her hand out of the chest cavity of the demon, Sanna’s eyes shifted into night vision. Behind her lay the body of the Anarchy demon’s Dark Gargoyle lying in many pieces like confetti. She saw Kyo watching attentively, wiping her bloodied nails off then resting an arm on Khamun’s shoulder. Khamun stood proud holding the sleeping little girl in his arms.
She saw the thin threads of souls the demon consumed and tainted throughout its body filtering into the air. That knowledge of that with the many voices and compounding emotions of the spirits in her body made her lunge her hands into the demon’s convulsing form. Tacky fleshy goo covered her.
“Now who is lying in shaking fear for the first time of its existence?” Sanna cooed, anger causing her skin to shimmer with her divine power.
“Please, I’ll give you intel, anything you want, just stop this,” the demon
pleaded.
Sanna heard Khamun behind her.
His silky, husky voice was icy and slightly seductive when he spoke. “You will lie there and let her finish her kill. Do not plead for shit. You don’t have a right to, my man. You forfeited everything the moment you allowed yourself to be created. Then you forfeited that for the second time the moment you laid a hand on her holy form. So, kick back and enjoy it.”
Sanna’s eyes widened at the simplicity and coldness of how Khamun delivered that response. Her skin felt saturated in his love and desire. The way he supported her gave her power in and of itself, which had her briefly looking over her shoulder at him. He stood draped in darkness with the moonlight.
His elegant, crinkled locks fell down around his shoulders. His plush lips glistened from him licking them and his mahogany rich skin seemed to emit its own shine from his power. Her eyes wanted to drink his broad Egyptian Michelangelo-carved body. To strip him down and kiss every raised scar on his abdomen, his arm, and neck, but his nod and heated stare told her to return her attention to her prey. His slick fanged smile left her breasts feeling swollen with desire in that sweet moment.
A bashful smile played across her face while she glanced at her support. She wasn’t the type to find humor in gore. However, in this moment, she found herself almost laughing when she saw the demon’s eyes widen once they locked on Khamun’s scowling face. It also caused her to smash the demon’s windpipe with her hand.
“Hey, look at me. Today is your judgment day.” Her honeyed gaze forced the demon’s attention. Sanna felt the monster try to fight her hold again, but whatever she had done before when she forced him down had slowed his movements. Thankfully, this allowed her time to take her diamond kila dagger in her hand and flicked her wrist cutting at each thread in the air connecting to the Anarchy demon. As she cut and cut, the entity let out a scream that shook the dark alley. Puddles of blood rippled when the demon screamed and he went rigid. It made Sanna cut slowly to inflict more of her own torture on the demon for retribution from its victims. Prayers spilled from her lips adding to the demon’s agony while she worked.
Feet pounding against a puddle of blood alerted her to Khamun suddenly by her side crouching low. His large hand pulled her close to him by the back of her neck. He held out his wrist in offering for her. The sensuality within the act had her heady in need. Her arousal blossomed with the need to feed. It slammed harder into her in that moment of the magnetic pull of his scent and she found her incisors sinking into his spicy, sweet wrist. His moan ripped through her, covering her pulsing mound while she slashed at the threads of the demon and fed.
Each voice that had ebbed from her went into him. Shock hit her when Khamun’s eyes turned black. She noticed the way he dropped down like a rabid dog to rip the demon’s throat apart. Black-red blood splashed everywhere and the monster caved in like a husk before imploding into a miasmic mist, which Khamun absorbed.
The hard momentum of that absorption connected to her and almost knocked her head back. Her lover took his wrist from her mouth to place his splayed hand over her heart. A pressure filled her body to slowly flux within her like a wave. Its gentle undulation caused her head to drop back then forward against his chest before the pulse transferred into Khamun. His roar made her heart palpitate a thousand times while he expelled the sins from the demon, sending the innocent souls to the Most High.
A sedative, warming peace flowed over her body, claiming her. Her skin felt ultra-sensitive and tender. Her nipples pressed taut against her shirt and her swollen yoni throbbed in need. She needed her Khamun in the most biblical way. Moreover, as he dropped his head forward in a slump, his locks swung forward to curtain his ruggedly sexy face. Sweat covered his thick body. His wings stroked her wings, and she knew by his tight grip that he needed her too.
“Ah, so I’ll leave you both to yourself and take the little girl to the safe house. You healed her somehow, sis, so, ah yeah, bye.” Kyo’s amused voice interrupted her hazy thoughts.
Sanna saw Kyo pop a lollipop in her mouth then tilt her head to the side still watching in protection while glancing around the alley and above their heads. Her god sister then turned on the soles of her feet, holding the sleeping girl in her arms. San noticed that Kyo’s aura funneled around the girl as a shield before she lifted them both in the night air to fly off with her golden wings expanded casting a soft flicker of light.
Warmth encompassed her. A deep rumbling “Mine,” from within Khamun’s throat had Sanna finding herself on her back. Her curly hair spilled onto the wet pavement with her mate deep within her. She hadn’t even realized she was naked in his embrace but the swift pulsing potency of his thickness hitting home pleasingly shocked her into awareness.
Her world and that alley melted away into the familiar softness of their bed while he locked on to every nerve in her suddenly cleansed body. As the silky suction of his heated mouth made her kitty constrict around his engorged shaft, his large, rough palms trailed the curving planes of her body. Sanna’s lashes delightfully closed at the feel of his lips tracing down her body, while he introduced her lotus to the different ways he knew how to savor and kiss her.
A soft, guttural sigh melted from Sanna’s mouth ending in a sweet whisper of love: “Yours.”
Chapter 11
Nydia was locked in a dream. The acid taste of metal lined her throat as she flinched at the feeling of her hands being bound. The odor of an abundance of fish, mixed with urine, blood, and other putrid scents assaulted her system. It made her want to scream. Links of iron held her down. Cuts on her body and around her neck seared her in pain from the dried water from outside of her moving prison, which seeped into their openings.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. That inkling of fear within her wanted to dance in the darkest corners of her mind, but instinct dictated that she was born not to fear those who captured her. She was born to kill them, to place that very fear they used to gain their prisoners against them by returning it threefold over within their dark husks. Her adored prince had taken down all in his path to get to her to no avail. She was forced to watch him fall, taken down in front of her. Her precious jaguars, each one she controlled on indivisible mental tethers, lay dead at her feet while she fought; but eventually she was violated by the dark bite.
She screamed for him at that moment at the feel of the taint in her system, “Kwame!”
She screamed for him as they sequestered her then submitted her to horrendous experiments before sealing her now-corrupted body into Purgatory. She never stopped screaming his name even when she felt her soul spread with evil. She screamed while the little bit of light within her was set free by a beautiful woman whose eyes shined with hope, but whose body smelled of the Cursed. She shrieked and fought for freedom, confused by the woman who appeared before her and led her to her salvation. She praised the Most High, crying for her lost love as she shed that tainted form and was reborn fresh but marked with a dark tracer unbeknownst to her.
Her dream shifted to a new scene where she screamed at a house that she felt was hers. Her pretty room with its many stuffed animals and toys was being set ablaze by a team who swore to protect her kind as was their duty within the light but lied. She felt as if she were a young child. Tears rimmed her eyes and her soul broke by the false Protectors. They were a group corrupted by the very dark she had run from. They made her lose everything.
She shrieked in horror and loss when her attackers killed her parents. Their bodies were taken, along with her, to be tortured in front of her. Played with like dolls by an evil, crazed King. She felt herself cower in fear when that false King laughed in finding her again before submitting her to ritual experiments that turned her into what she was now: a monster. Her once pure body and spirit were locked into a vessel transformed by a Cursed demon and she screamed and screamed and screamed. The words, “As it was before, so shall it be again,” cried from her soul and covered her in flickering holy light before it snuffed out.
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She thrashed out, waking in agony. “Calvinnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!”
Jerking up with a start the Medusa haphazardly glanced around her private condominium, a place she always rested her head before tracking Nephilims. Her mind and body felt on fire. The right side of her ribcage seared. Her skin pulsed and ached at the touch. The illegible writing she was born with was red and swollen where she clutched at her right side. She pushed her sweat-drenched covers from her body then emptied her stomach on her bamboo wooden floor. She knew it was a smart thing not to stay back at the Cursed fortress or near Reina due to the Mad King and his daughter’s animalistic temperament. That prickly feeling she was feeling lately within her hallowed heart, after being touched by the Reaper, alerted her that something was about to happen. So she made her plans then pushed up her orders of hunting more Nephilims, especially that Oracle, and she came to her downtown condo.
Her spine was killing her, which was not abnormal for her. The sensitive protrusions of exposed bone always bothered her due to how she was created. However, that wasn’t the only issue. It felt as if her skin around it had been stretched then pushed back together, only to be ripped apart again as it once was. Had she wings, she would have thought that was the problem, but it wasn’t the issue at hand.
She hated this body regardless of how voluptuous and curvy she was. Pinpricking pain ripped at her backbone causing every nerve in her back and spinal protrusions to throb with each inhale she took and her tail to relase and madly whipping against her. It often hurt for her to release her spial razor tail, which is why she didn’t release it often. The pain was too much, like it was now. She refused to let any tears fall. She hadn’t cried ever and she was not about to start now. That was not who she was.