Seven Seals, Books 1 & 2

by Traci Douglass

  “Really? Looks like it’s mine now.” Kagan stuffed the prize in his pocket and disappeared into the shadows.

  • • •

  “Think you’ll want to check this out.” Kagan placed the amulet into his commander’s palm.

  Xander studied the triangular pendant, the tiny symbols engraved on the bronze. “These are astrological.” He pointed to the largest sigil in the center. “This is the sign for Mars.”

  The scraping of a metal chair against the concrete floor drew their attention back to the struggling, trussed-up demon. Xander shoved the artifact into his jacket and turned to the vitals monitor. “He’s not telling us anything.”

  “He’s lying, Xan. He knows exactly who he’s working for.”

  “Maybe I should take over.”

  “No. My mission, my interrogation.” Kagan stood defiant.

  Jaw clenched, Xander considered Kagan for a long moment before nodding. “Fine. The first injection’s ready when you are.”

  Kagan glanced at Mira, who sat on some crates in the corner watching the proceedings. Alone. She caught him staring and hopped down, walking farther into the darkness. Her confession rang loud in his memory as he grabbed a handful of syringes. I got away and kept running. Oca! Tonight the running would end.

  He approached Argus again. With a flick of his thumb, he removed the cap off the needle and inserted it into the port of the IV tubing. The plunger descended, releasing the chemicals into the flow.

  Seconds later, Argus’s strained grunts filled the air, his body convulsing against the restraints. The drug’s effects intensified and Argus’s transformation slipped, his face flickering between human and demon while his claws dug into the metal arms of the chair. Once the last seizure subsided, Kagan knelt beside Argus with a rabid smile. “Now, demon, you and I talk.”

  • • •

  The agony dulled to a bearable throb and Argus’s head drooped. Eyes scratchy and watering, he squinted. “Go screw yourself, Scion.”

  Kagan produced another syringe. This time Argus tensed before the chemicals reached him, anticipating the torment. Pain, vivid and searing, swelled to a crescendo, so much better than before. His skin crawled atop the supporting bone like undulating worms and his face split, revealing glimpses of the scales below. The demon relished the exquisite torture. Sons of El were raised on grief. Ate misery for breakfast. This was a walk in the fucking nursery compared to his initiation.

  “Two doses, demon. One more and your host could die. Something tells me you don’t want to find another one this late in the game.” Kagan paced. “In fact, my theory is you chose this human for a specific reason. There’s a purpose for your unusual co-habitation, isn’t there, Argus?”

  “You know nothing, pussy.” Argus eyed Kagan with contempt.

  The Scion glanced toward something beyond the lights. Argus extended his mental feelers. The little bitch is here. He pushed his preternatural senses further. Even better, she’s bonded to the Scion.

  Now he had ammunition. His dry chuckle reverberated through the warehouse. “You got no idea who the fuck you’re dealing with.”

  “Tell me who you’re working for.” Kagan gripped his hair, yanking his head back.

  Argus laughed, hungry for another dose. “Shit, Kagan. McClaine says your girlfriend’s the finest piece of cunt he ever had.”

  • • •

  Kagan jammed the third syringe into the port before Xander could stop him. Argus’s violent writhing snapped the back legs off the chair. He fell to the ground in a mass of quivering limbs, his screams scattering pigeons from their roosts in a barrage of flapping chaos. There was one final violent convulsion then silence. Grim satisfaction seethed through Kagan’s system. At last, Mira would be free.

  Xander stepped up beside him to tower above the motionless body. His commander’s anger radiated off him in palpable waves, his tone tight with fury. “The last dose caused a massive seizure. There could be permanent brain damage. Our orders were to return him in working condition.”

  Kagan gazed at the contorted half-human, half-demon face below and battled another crest of unbridled rage. Images of a sixteen-year-old Mira alone in the streets, hurt and terrified, flashed through his mind. His warrior instincts went into overdrive, and his chest constricted. He would protect her! Fanculo la missione!

  Stone-faced, Xander yanked the IV from Argus’s arm. “Christos, Kagan! What the hell’s wrong with you?”

  “He threatened my target,” Kagan said before walking away.

  “And how’s that different from every other job?” Xander called.

  Kagan ignored his commander and zeroed in on Mira.

  • • •

  Mira watched Kagan’s approach, her arms crossed. His measured stride and determined expression razed her nerves. He drew closer and she moved farther away. When Kagan finally cornered her, they were at the far end of the warehouse, hidden from view.

  “McClaine raped you.”

  His words burned through her like battery acid. She evaded. “I’m not discussing this with you. Leave me alone.”

  “Oca! I’m your guardian!” She tried to escape, but he grabbed her arm. “Your protector.”

  “I don’t want your damn protection. In fact, I don’t want anything from you.” Mira wrenched free. “Just go the fuck away.”

  Before she had time to react, he pinned her against the steel wall of the warehouse. “You wanted me this morning, Mira. I can make you want me again.”

  She froze when he moved closer, the rigid length of his cock pressing into her abdomen. His teeth tugged gently on the lobe of her ear, and she couldn’t stifle a shiver. His lips brushed her cheek then lowered to nibble her jaw. Flashes of McClaine crashed through her reality: his hands digging into her thighs, his rancid breath moist on her neck, his flaccid dick flopping in front of her face. No!

  One hard shove and Kagan stumbled back without resistance. Mira wiped a hand over her trembling mouth. “Stay the hell away from me, Kagan. Don’t touch me again.”

  • • •

  Kagan ran his tongue over his lips and tasted the salt from her tears. I’m no better than McClaine.

  With a curse, he pushed off the metal wall and slammed out the nearby door. He welcomed the shock of frigid air on his heated skin. In the distance, he glimpsed the outline of Chago leaning against the building, tossing his dagger in the air and catching the hilt without a glance. After a moment, Kagan approached.

  “How goes the interrogation?” Chago asked.

  “Got nothing except an amulet he was wearing.”

  “He’s a Son of El. You know normal torture doesn’t work with them. That’s why Sloane’s trying out the new drugs.”

  “With his host involved, we had a chance.” Kagan studied the gravel beneath his boots. He picked up a stone and hurled it toward the lake. “Merda! I snapped.”

  “Xander should’ve handled the interrogation, anyway. Or had me do it.” Chago’s gaze returned to the horizon. “You’re too involved.”

  Kagan’s jaw clenched. “I’m as capable as ever.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Chago leaned a shoulder against the building and faced him. “You’ve got other priorities. Me, I’d have kicked his ass and worried about details later.”

  Kagan crossed his arms. “And that would’ve been helpful how?”

  Chago opened his mouth to respond, but was pre-empted by a loud boom from inside the warehouse. The doors blew open, clanking into the steel building as flames shot out. Both warriors charged into the chaos. Smoke and flame clogged the air.

  “Can you see anything?” Kagan squinted into the inferno. The heat puckered his skin and singed the hair at his nape.

  “Joder! No.” Chago shouted from somewhere to his left.

  A hand emerged from the billowing black to grab Kagan’s arm. Xander appeared, hacking and covered in soot.

  “You okay, Xan?” Chago said.

  Xander nodded. “How about you two?”


  Kagan peered behind Xander. “Where’s Mira?”

  The fire raged higher and Xander pushed them outside.

  “Xan, where the hell’s Mira?” Kagan started toward the entrance.

  “Argus took her. Flashed before I knew he was conscious.” Xander grabbed Kagan’s arm and held up a hand for him to wait until his coughing jag subsided. “Something’s off. He recovered too fast.”

  Kagan stood frozen amidst the blaze, his mind spinning between the fact Argus had Mira and his parting exchange with her. Merda!

  When Xander spoke again, his voice was sandpaper raw. “He took the drugs, Kagan. And the mark on his chest was glowing.”

  Chapter 9

  Mira returned to the world of the living in stages, her head pounding and her mouth dry. A metallic clang issued somewhere close, and the acrid smell of chemicals permeated the air.

  She scooted until her butt bumped the wall behind her then levered into a sitting position. Balance was harder than she imagined with her arms tied behind her, but after several attempts, she succeeded. Upright at last, Mira took a deep breath and looked at her surroundings.

  Well-worn shag carpet covered the floor and filled the tiny enclosed space with the odor of musty tube socks. The walls were stained and watermarked, illuminated by one bare bulb high above. The clang issued again—louder this time—and she pressed her ear to the drywall, searching for its source. A dry, off-key whistle drifted to her ears and grew in intensity. Someone approached her door. Shit!

  She searched for something to use for a weapon. The chemical reek threatened to overwhelm her. A turning knob snapped her gaze toward the door. She pushed into the corner. Memories of her nightmare surfaced, and her brain misfired.

  “How’s my pretty?” McClaine’s severely disfigured face craned around the door. She cringed at his mutilated features. Not an attractive man to start, with half his mug missing he was a zombie horror come to life. He leaned into her space, the scent of rotted meat and brimstone carrying after him, and his lone orange eye glinting in the overhead beam. “Been a long time, Mira.”

  She attempted to speak, despite the gag. Only a garbled mess emerged. The bastard tried to cop a feel of her boob and chuckled, a sinister sound chock full of crazy.

  “Now, Mira, you and I are going to spend some quality time together.” He pressed closer and his hand dropped to grip her inner thigh. Her muscles bunched beneath his hard pinch. “Your fucking boyfriend should have killed me when he had the chance.”

  He pulled out a huge blade and Mira shrank away, her head whipping side to side as she searched for an escape. The blade tip traced her neck then slipped lower and her chest tightened. “Let’s make you more comfortable, eh?”

  The demon grabbed her arm and she kicked out, landing a solid groin hit with her steel-toed boot. He slumped, holding his crotch. Mira levered into a standing position and hobbled toward the door. Freedom was inches away, the air fresher as it wafted in from the hallway. She’d managed to reach the brown-paneled doorframe before a razor-sharp claw clamped on her ankle, the venomous tips penetrating her boot to pierce flesh. Pain shot up her leg and she stumbled. Fell. Paralysis took hold, creeping upward from her ankle. Her mind raced while her body shut down. Please, God, help me! Unshed tears clouded the final moments before her vision tunneled to black.

  • • •

  Kagan’s powerful stride cut a swath through the holiday crowds. He weaved his way toward his apartment, clutching the nondescript brown bag in his sweaty fist. He’d bought enough ammo to take out a small army. Or one determined pezzo di merda demon!

  He entered the converted warehouse, a familiar buzz zinging through his nervous system as he rode the elevator to the top floor. Kagan opened the door to his loft and found a scene of controlled anarchy. Xander gave him a curt nod of acknowledgement from where he loomed above Wyck and the computer. Zoe sat beside Wyck, pointing to the screen while he typed.

  A dagger whizzed past Kagan’s head to lodge in the brick wall. He swiveled to find Chago, his hand raised in silent greeting and lips twitching in a suppressed grin. Kagan fired him a glare of pure annoyance. He indicated the damaged stone and shrugged out of his coat. “You break it, you buy it.” Chago only chuckled, pulling his dagger from the wall.

  “Do we have a location?” Kagan asked, moving to stand beside Xander and the others at the kitchen table.

  Wyck pointed to a picture on the laptop—a dilapidated building surrounded by boarded-up businesses. “Yep. Thanks to the tracking device you slipped in Mira’s pocket, we traced them to this tenement in North Lawndale.”

  Zoe snorted, meeting Kagan’s surprised stare before returning her attention to the screen. “Way to spy, 007.”

  “Good one.” Wyck sniggered and tapped shoulders with Zoe.

  Xander frowned, his gaze flicking between Zoe and Wyck. “Is she a distraction?”

  Wyck smiled. “Nope. She’s a straight-up powerful—” Zoe kicked him hard in the shin. “What?” Wyck frowned at her.

  “She’s a powerful what?” Xander’s gaze narrowed.

  She gave Wyck a look full of warning and more than a tinge of panic. Wyck nodded. Xander smacked Wyck across the back of the head.

  “What the hell’s that for?” Wyck scowled up at his commander.

  “Watch yourself.”

  Wyck grunted, zooming in on the front of the apartment building.

  Kagan shook his head and squinted to read the engraved granite pediment at the entrance. “Shadow Falls. That’s appropriate. When are we going in?”

  Hours later, Kagan stalked the deserted sidewalks of North Lawndale in the pre-dawn light. After checking in on his earpiece, Wyck confirmed Xander was in position behind the building and Chago was on the roof, all escapes well-guarded. Kagan spotted a few onlookers, none of the demon variety. Four enormous white guys in a black-as-sin Suburban at five in the morning drew unwanted, unavoidable attention. Best to wrap this up quick and get the hell out.

  Kagan stopped short when a noise clanked to his left. A jolt sizzled through him. Argus was close. Kagan smiled. He was going to enjoy making the bastardo suffer this time.

  The blow struck a millisecond later.

  His skull crunched, and his world splintered. A diabolical giggle followed him down to his knees. He landed hard on the concrete, his arms useless to catch his weight. His face collided with pavement and more bones shattered. A single orange eye peered at him from beside the tenement’s entrance. Kagan struggled to speak, but a venomous claw sunk deep in his neck. His last thought was of the trapped woman in the building. Mira.

  • • •

  Mira’s shirt was ripped open at the shoulder and cold air swamped her torso. Something slimy and smooth traced her mark before dropping away. Her wrists were freed then bound again to the arms of the chair in which she now sat. Soon her ankles were also secured, and the chance for escape vanished. A groan rife with suffering drifted in from her right. The effects of the venom made focus difficult, but if she narrowed her blurry gaze, she could distinguish the outline of a large blob. Her demon captor passed by and stirred the air, his reeking scent now joined by something more. Something familiar. Vanilla and sandalwood and protection. Kagan!

  Mira struggled to scoot closer, but her chair stayed rooted in place. The demon’s laughter echoed, followed by his snarky drawl. “Aw, ain’t that cute? You missing your boyfriend, bitch?”

  Argus grabbed a corner of the cloth gagging her and yanked it free. Her airway cleared and Mira gasped for breath. Head up, she spoke in a croaky voice worthy of a pack-a-day smoker. “You’re a dead man.”

  “Bitch, I’ve been dead for eons.” Argus patted her cheek and moved to the counter.

  He flipped open the gunmetal interrogation case and eyed the rows of pre-filled syringes like a starving dog in a butcher shop. Almost reverently, he pulled out several and held them up to the light, inspecting their contents before making a final selection. He moved behind her and Mira lost trac
k of him, only to jump as he sliced through the other shoulder of her T-shirt and bared her to the waist with only her bra for cover. His fingers hovered over her breasts, clenching before dropping away. Revulsion cramped her stomach. Cold wetness preceded a sharp prick as an IV needle slid into her vein. Argus turned her chair to face Kagan’s before returning to the counter. Wonderful. She’d have an audience for her final hurrah.

  She studied Kagan’s unconscious form, noting the pallid tone lurking beneath the tan of his skin. Her gaze snagged on the blood caking the side of his neck, stretching like an arrow to the rear of his skull. Only the steady rise and fall of his chest assured her he was still alive.

  The demon lifted one of the syringes and removed the cap. He jabbed the needle into the port on her IV and pushed the plunger to release the drug into her system. Her hopes for survival plummeted.

  Pain built, a surging fire destroying her from the inside out. Her screams reverberated off the cinder-block walls. Argus chose his lairs well. Her pleas for help went unheard, unheeded. The convulsions intensified and Mira’s jaw spasmed. Her heart slammed against her ribcage. White-hot agony seared her mark. Christ! I don’t want to die!

  Mira lost the battle with her stomach and vomited. In between heaves, she registered Argus now hovering beside Kagan. He smacked the unconscious warrior hard across the face, and she flinched. Argus noticed, picking up another syringe and heading in her direction. “Here comes round two, bitch.”

  This time when the chemicals struck, her teeth chattered and her blood froze. Goose bumps covered her skin and her core temperature plunged. Mira’s last thoughts were of the wounded man beside her before blissful unconsciousness dragged her under. Please wake up, Kagan!

  • • •

  Kagan cracked open an eye. His vision doubled, yet he forced himself to focus on the details. Mira’s horrified screams ripped through the room before she passed out. He tensed. His efforts to undo the knots around his wrists and ankles doubled. He moved slow, avoiding detection while he worked the knots free with his fingers then clutched the ropes in place and maintained his position. He lifted his head to test the extent of his healing, turned slightly to see the IV in his arm. Dizziness overwhelmed him, bile thick in his throat. He took a deep breath, willing the nausea to pass.