20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  “He tried to drug me,” I said, folding my arms defensively. “He was evil.”

  “So?” Asmodeus’s whole face turned a bright shade of violent purple and flames poured from his hands. “DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER WHO YOU WORK FOR?!” His voice roared from his tiny throat, shaking the walls of my apartment. “You’re a demon! Evil is what you do! It’s what you are!”

  “So,” said Gabe, glaring at me with a dark, judgemental scowl. “You are from the pit.”

  “Surprise.” I waggled my fingers teasingly. “Getting your lollipop licked by a demon ain’t so bad, is it?”

  Rather than being angry with my teasing, Gabe seemed more confused than anything. “But…like you said. Licking. I know you aren’t evil.”

  “Babe, I’m from Hell. Literal Hell. I promise you, I am evil.”

  “But I sensed—”

  “Shh!” Asmodeus put his fingers back up to his ears, squinting as he listened intently to some voice neither of us could hear. Silence rained.

  “Maybe we should abandon the safe house,” I said. “You know. Lay low for a while.”

  A brief moment of silence.

  “Probably,” admitted Gabe, touching the bridge of his nose. “Oh my God…what a disaster.”

  Asmodeus’s communication seemed to end. Hissing angrily, he buzzed around in front of my face, snapping his fingers in a furious blur. “Hey, are you two loco in the coco? We can’t run from this.”

  I swatted at him. “What the fuck’s a coco?”

  “Never mind that—look.” Asmodeus rubbed his temples furiously, little wisps of smoke trailing up from his fingertips, drifting up like little claws. “The big guy is getting interested in this. Okay? I have it from a good source that he’s looking into it personally.”

  “The big guy?” Aww, crap. My boss in the pit; a huge, brutish bully. “I don’t want Azazel to come here. Dammit, fuck!”

  “No, you bimbo! It’s not Azazel!” He glared at me with eyes that were pure flame. “The…big guy.”

  “Surely you can’t mean…” My brain shut down. “The Morning Star? Lucifer?”

  “Yeah! Him!” Asmodeus whimpered as though in pain. “Turns out you really fucked up—you really fucked up bad!”

  “Oh shit,” said Gabe, turning to me, ashen faced. “You really fucked up bad.”

  Fucking Up Bad

  Asmodeus’s Safe House

  New Jersey

  My stomach felt like it had dropped all the way back to Hell and left me behind on the mortal realm. This was much worse than the nephilim; if they got involved, they were cold, emotionless robots but they were rational. They could be talked to. Reasoned with.

  But the big guy? Lucifer himself, first of the fallen angels? Not so much.

  “I’ve never met him,” I said, trying hard to keep the fear out of my voice. “I don't know anyone who has. I mean, I saw him a few times, always from a huge distance, but…”

  “I haven’t either,” said Asmodeus, a similar tremble in his tone. “But Jessica once told me, you know, that he was really tall up close. And I mean really tall. He’s a monster. Built like a giant, with horns and teeth and fists and…no, no. This is not good.”

  “Jessica?” Gabe hesitated, his eyes flicking between us. “Wait, do you mean the succubus that was supposed to be at the party?”

  “Yeah,” said Asmodeus. “Some shitty celestial took her out, and…” his voice trailed off, eyes focusing on Gabe, suspicion creeping into his voice. “And I don't mean to dinner.”

  Awkward silence.

  “Sorry about that,” said Gabe, shrugging. “It was her or me. I couldn’t let her get close to Damien.” He shot me an annoyed look. “Turns out I shouldn’t have let you get near him either. Just…for a different reason.”

  “Nice,” spat Asmodeus, bitterly. “You killed my friend, you bastard.”

  I squinted at him. “Was she really your friend? You didn’t seem too upset when you told me she got killed before.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” hissed Asmodeus, then turned back to Gabe. “Murderous bastard!”

  “Foul waste of air,” said Gabe, hand drifting back around to his back where his pistol was.

  Asmodeus stuck out his tongue. “I know you are, you said you are, but what am I?”

  We didn’t have time for this. “Ladies, ladies. You argue like you’re on Reddit. You’re both pretty, okay? Sheesh.” I took a breath, trying to steady myself. “Anyway. Whatever. We need to find a way to fix this.”

  Both of them fell into their thoughts. Gabe ran his hand through his hair, and Asmodeus drifted around my head rubbing his chin.

  “I just can’t believe this,” whined Asmodeus. “Lucifer himself. Getting involved over a single dead mortal? It’s…it’s mind boggling.”

  “Are you always so easily boggled?” snipped Gabe. I glared at him and he shut the hell up again.

  Asmodeus put his head in his tiny hands. “Wanna know a fun fact? Desperation is an anagram for a rope ends it. I want you to know this. I want you to know how I’m feeling right at this very second.”

  “That fact,” said Gabe, “was not very fun.”

  Asmodeus managed a little smile. “Man, speaking of fun…remember that time the whole of Hawaii thought they were going to get nuked because of a false missile alarm? That was me. All me. Oh, I laughed for days. All their fucking little faces.” His voice became high pitched and squeaky. “Oh, oh, we’re fucked, we’re so totally fucked! Ahh! The norks are dropping the big one! Duck and cover, duck and cover!”

  Gabe didn’t smile. “A lot of people believed they were about to die in nuclear fire. It wasn’t funny.”

  “It was crazy funny,” Asmodeus’s smile widened. “All that fear…all those people crying on Facebook and Instagram, talking about how they were going to be burned to a crisp, texting their crushes and telling them they loved them. Beautiful.”

  A spike of anger surged through me. It was becoming obvious that if we didn’t do something soon, Asmodeus and Gabe would just sit here sniping at each other until one of them snapped and started a fight. We had to get the hell out of here. We had to—

  A faint chime rang through the room, three soft notes like a doorbell.

  I looked at Asmodeus. “Are you expecting someone?”

  “Nope.” Asmodeus looked at Gabe. “Are you expecting someone?”

  “Nope,” said Gabe, turning finally to me. “We should get out of here.”

  “There’s only one way in and out,” said Asmodeus, worriedly wringing his hands together. “The door. Unless we can climb out of the window…”

  The doorbell chimed again, a little more insistent this time, and I grit my teeth. “I’ll stall them,” I said, jerking my thumb toward the window. “Get out. I’ll give you as long as I can.”

  Gabe nodded firmly. “Meet back at Damien’s house,” he said, and then he turned to the window. “See you soon.”

  “Yeah,” I said, with absolutely no conviction in my voice at all.

  The bell rang again and I knew I had no more time.

  The Nephilim

  Asmodeus’s Safe House

  New Jersey

  I steadied my nerves and, once the window closed behind Asmodeus and Gabe, I pulled open the door.

  A woman stood on the other side of the door, wearing a perfectly tailored three piece suit complete with bowler hat and clipboard held comfortably in both hands. She had dark hair cropped into a perfectly neat bob, tanned skin and a face completely symmetrical, almost to the point of being unnerving. She seemed like she was made out of plastic, as though she’d been sculpted out of clay and then animated through some arcane process.

  “Lady Grace?” she asked, formally tipping her hat. Her lips didn’t move as much as they should have. “My name is Juliet-Tango-Delta-Five-Eight-Eight. I represent the Nephilim Establishment. I am here to ask you some questions about a recent incident.”

  “Alright,” I said, leaning comfortably up against the doorframe. “Mi
nd if I call you Juliet?”

  “You may address me however you wish. It is irrelevant to the matter at hand.”

  Time. I needed to stall for time. “Well, names are important,” I said, firmly. “JT, then? Or maybe Eight-Eight? Your full name is just a very big mouthful, that’s all, and being a succubus I know a lot about mouthfuls, if you know what I mean.”

  The nephilim stared blankly at me.

  “It’s a joke,” I said, slightly defensively. “Relax.”

  “The nephilim have no sense of humour that we are currently aware of.” She turned the clipboard toward me. “This is a brief summary of the charges laid against you.”

  Oh boy, paperwork. “I’m a slow reader,” I said, scanning the paperwork slowly and carefully. But as I did so, the words rearranged themselves, forming a simple language version of the previously complicated document.

  1x MASQUERADE VIOLATION

  1x MURDER (Mortal)

  1x UNAUTHORISED SURFACE EXPLORATION

  (reading this text indicates a full and

  proper understanding of the charges laid against you)

  “Having read the charges and acknowledged a full and proper understanding of the charges laid against you,” said Juliet, “I am hereby advising you of your punishment.”

  “Punishment, huh?” I said, giving a lopsided, teasing smile. “What is it? Whips and chains? A rough spanking?”

  Juliet paused, adjusted her bowler’s hat, then continued. “You will be destroyed and your spiritual essence committed to the diaspora.”

  Well, that wasn’t what I want to happen at all. I tried to keep my whole body relaxed. Gabe and Asmodeus needed time to get away. “Okay,” I said, slowly. “How soon will this happen? I’d like to appeal this decision.”

  “The sentence will be rendered as soon as the appropriate documentation is filled out and signed,” said Juliet. “And, unfortunately, all avenues of appeal have already been exhausted on your behalf.”

  Lovely. Stall. I needed to stall. “Okay,” I said, cautiously. “I understand this. However, my concern is for the mortal realm at this point. How will this incident be handled?”

  The nephilim gently folded her arms. “Our agents have damaged the boat further to make your crude deception seem more plausible. The official record will show that a submerged floating shipping container sank the Cythera. We have also affected the body so that its wounds more accurately represent the kinds of injuries a boating accident would inflict.”

  Affected? I decided not to ask too many questions. “Right,” I said. “And, uhh…what about Gabe? And Asmodeus?”

  “Lord Asmodeus will be issued a written warning, as will Lord Gabriel. We will not be warning either of them again. It is the opinion of the Nephilim Establishment that your destruction should serve as sufficient warning to both parties and ensure their further compliance and discretion.”

  “Oh,” I said, my brain drawing a blank on more topics to discuss. “That’s…great. And uhh—”

  “Sign the document,” she said, holding out a black, simple, cheap ball-point pen.

  I took it, slowly and carefully, making like I was going to sign. “Actually—”

  “Sign,” said Juliet, insistently.

  “I was hoping to discuss this like rational—”

  “The time for discussion is over.” Juliet unfolded her arms, fingers crackling with electricity. “Sign or prepare to face oblivion.”

  With a sigh, I slipped the pen into my pocket. “Oblivion isn’t really my jam,” I said, smiling sheepishly and moving to close the door. “Thank you, come again some other time—”

  Juliet put her fist through the wooden door, splintering it into hunks of wood. The crackle of electricity followed the intense smell of burning oak.

  Shit.

  I turned and ran toward the window, feet pumping on the plush carpet. Behind me, Juliet pulled the door right off its hinges, breaking the thing into splinters and stepping into the foyer.

  I shielded my face and crashed bodily into the glass, smashing it and falling through, into the air, surrounded by long shards of falling glass.

  Wings. I needed my wings. I put all my focus onto my wings—feeling my bones creak and stretch, tiny little nubs growing out from my back…faster, faster, faster—

  The ground rushed up toward me. I strained, extending my tiny, shrivelled wings out as far as they could, urging them to grow as fast as they could. The pavement grew closer…

  Just in time, I swooped and pulled up, barely a foot above the ground, my toes bumping and scraping against the ground. I climbed, pulling up into a hover, turning back toward the broken window.

  Juliet ran toward me, jumping into the air just as I’d done. Which was dumb, because nephilim couldn’t fly.

  Her legs extended, becoming massive springs. She landed on the ground and bounced, hands extended out to me, fingers crackling with power.

  Shit! I swerved, dodging out of the way barely in time. Juliet sailed onward, landing on the pavement again, crouching and pressing her hands together. A bolt of lightning jumped from her fingertips and splashed into me, burning my skin. A thunder crack echoed around me. My wings trembled, jerked, and stopped working.

  I began to fall again, but this time I was ready. I snagged a streetlight, swinging around it and crashing heavily to the ground. Juliet began striding toward me, her massive legs giving her an impossible advantage.

  Escape. I needed a way out…

  I’d fallen on something metal. Not concrete. It was a JCMUA Sewer manhole cover. Jamming my fingers into the holes, I flung it at Juliet, then rolled into the reeking sewer.

  A Shitty Escape Plan

  Sewer Network

  New Jersey

  I crashed into the sewer, landing with a splash in some stinking, rancid water.

  The sewers were a lot smaller than I was expecting. Maybe it was just a district thing, but the tunnel I’d fallen into was barely big enough for me to crawl through and was full of water that came up to my chest.

  At least I was really, really, really hopeful it was water.

  Knowing that Juliet was only seconds behind me, I wiggled around onto my hands and knees and began sloshing through the pipe, keeping my head as high as I could so the…water…could not get in. Above and behind me, Juliet scrambled down the pipe, chasing me into the sewer hole.

  But falling down had

  I came to a junction and, hands scrambling over the slime covered tube, turned left. The sloshing continued unabated. Another junction. Left. More sloshing. Even closer this time.

  Another junction. I shrugged off my torn and ruined hoodie, tossed it into the left hand pipe, then half crawled, half swamp into the one on the right.

  Water picked up behind me, pushing me onward. I no longer had to crawl. Instead, I found myself fighting the tide, trying to avoid being sucked down with the rushing water. My fingers dug into the sides of the sewer pipe. I extended my claws, scratching thick jagged lines down the length of it, dragging me helplessly along. Lucifer’s Teeth, it stank.

  The pipe emptied into drop. I tumbled down the miniature waterfall into a much larger pipe, sinking into the water. Closing my eyes and holding my breath, I kicked and thrashed until, finally, my head broke the surface.

  It wasn’t that deep. At least I could stand. I did so, keeping my lips pressed together and hoping none of the stuff had gotten into my mouth. I sunk my claws back into my body, hoping I wouldn’t need them right away again.

  Completely lost, but at least fairly confident Juliet wasn’t behind me anymore, I sloshed through the larger sewer pipe, until the water got shallower. Up to my ankles. I took random turns and bypassing ladder after ladder, hoping to further shake off any pursuit, until I felt brave enough to head up.

  I scaled the ladder, then pushed up the manhole cover. The sun was coming up, and the pre-dawn light had cast Jersey City in a pale hue, washing out all the colours, street lights still providing most of the illumination.
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br />   Trying not to breathe through my nose, I clambered out of the sewer and, acting like it was totally natural of me, kicked the manhole cover back over the sewer and began my best attempt at a casual stroll down the street, each step leaving muddy footprints behind me.

  Yeah. “Mud”.

  I knew I had to find Asmodeus and Gabe. The thought of the two of them being stuck together made me grumpy. Those two were cats and dogs. If one of them hadn’t stabbed the other by the time I got there, it would be a miracle. If Juliet or some other nephilim didn’t track me down and end me before I could, that would also be a miracle.

  My survival hinged purely on luck.

  Even at this un-Satanly hour in the morning there were joggers. Fat people trying to be thin, and thin people trying to be buffer. A woman with a little barking dog came power walking along the pavement. She held her nose as she passed me by. Fortunately being stinky meant people would avoid me. Hopefully.

  As the minutes passed, I began to relax and my mind turned to how I was going to get to Damien’s place. It was by the water, but…that was a lot of foreshore. I couldn’t just wander aimlessly.

  I passed joggers and dog walkers and jogging dog walkers, all of whom barely gave me the time of day, despite my caution. Morning people. Yeesh.

  Finally, after what felt like far too long, the sun came up properly and my clothes finally dried out, even though the smell around me lingered. I saw no sign of Juliet, so I finally pulled out my phone, fired up the GPS, and followed the map toward Damien’s house.

  It was a long way to walk, especially smelling to high heaven, but I made it. As I got close, I could see Damien’s place surrounded by cop cars, the front of the house bathed in strobing red and blue light. Wherever the rest of the party had gone, I had no idea, nor did I care.