“You’re going to pay for Bamal, bitch.”
Razor was actually crying. But I had no pity. And I would have no mercy. I remembered the hundreds of tourists and Parisians running from the scene of the Eiffel Tower bombing while Razor had smiled at his handiwork from the sidelines. I remembered the father who fled with his screaming toddler in his arms, the child’s blond curls bouncing, his face a mass of tears and fear a second before they were blown apart.
“No, Razor. You’re going to pay…for every soul you struck from this world. For every innocent you defiled to please your master.”
Razor stepped forward, his demon horde closing in. I laughed. They all froze, puzzled by my maniacal response to a face-off with twenty-one demons, weaponless.
But I had a weapon. It was me.
“Get her, Razor,” called one of the larger fools standing in the crowd. Razor launched into a run.
“Good-bye,” I said, sucking in a lungful of air and blowing my power straight at him. White crystals blew with a gale-force wind. Razor screamed as his skin melted away upon impact. The others followed, howling in pain as they clawed at the skin falling from their flesh. I waved my hand. Razor’s monstrous form fell backward as did the rest like dominos.
“Be gone,” I whispered.
Their bodies liquefied into the ground. Nothing left but twenty-one piles of steam.
Beyond them stood Rook and Simian, the scary-as-hell demon princes. As if they were twins, they tilted their heads in the same direction, like curious dogs at a strange sound. They turned to each other, mirror-like, and sifted away. Creepy but smart demons.
The roar of a dragon Titan filled the battlefield. I gazed across the moor, angels and demons entangled in combat as far as I could see. The black-winged army of St. Michael fought with violent ferocity and skillful precision. Sparks of blue and white Flamma fire shot into the air as a multi-headed beast in the distance fell to the ground, shaking the earth. A streak of white zipped across the night sky as Mira dove and swept triumphantly over the mammoth creature. My lovely hawk had taken down a Fury. And twenty yards away, Jude was getting the best of Bellock.
I smiled and took two steps before I was slammed onto my back, my head cracking against a protruding rock. Dazed, I touched my fingers to the back of my head. Warm stickiness.
“Sorry, love. Did that hurt?”
Damas knelt beside me, one hand clutched in my hair, the other pressing hard on my abdomen.
“You are one brave son of a bitch,” I said. I paid my debt to Acheron, so there was nothing to keep me from blowing this fucker into oblivion and ridding the world of him once and for all.
He yanked my hair, stinging the injury on the back of my head.
“Ah!” I cried out.
With my mouth open in pain, he swept down and pressed a wet kiss to my mouth, so fast there was no need to react, for he was off the ground and standing above me in a blink, gray clouds sweeping above him.
“I wanted one last kiss.”
“Before I kill you? Hope you enjoyed it.”
He pressed his foot to my chest, shoving me down.
“I saw what you did, what you said to your mother,” he said, angling his pretty face with a grin. “I might not have had much luck with you. Perhaps it will be different with your daughter.” He winked.
A thick blade of steel ripped through his chest, sword protruding a full foot. His mouth opened in gaping shock. He coughed. Black blood splattered. George loomed close over his shoulder. “You’ll never know, bloody fucker. You’ll never twist anyone to your will again.” George glanced down at me, where I lay still trapped under Damas’s foot. “Finish him, Genevieve.”
I grabbed Damas’s ankle and thought the word death, obliterating him into ash and charred bones, the wake of Vessel light blasting across the moor. Demon shrieks of terror squealed at the flare of power blowing over the battlefield. I didn’t consign him to some deep well of hell from which he could one day crawl to torment more victims. No way. He was gone for good. Finally.
I jolted to my feet, coughing on the ashy remains of the third demon prince I’d wiped out of existence. What looked like a shriveled femur bone rolled down my torso as I stood. I gave it a swift kick.
A slick stream of blood oozed from my head wound down the back of my neck, and my eyesight hazed. Spots dotted my peripheral vision. George grabbed one arm, but I focused ahead at the man running toward me through the mayhem. Jude. Sprinting full speed, jaw clenched, gaze locked…on me. As my knees buckled, he caught me in his arms before I hit the ground.
“I’ve got you, mon coeur,” he said, his deep voice filling me with the promise of protection. “I’ve got you.”
“I’m okay,” I said, my words sluggish. “We have to keep going.”
“You’ve done enough for today, my heart.” He swept an arm behind my knees and lifted me. “It’ll wait till tomorrow.”
I wanted to go on, but using my new power had drained me dry. Spots hazed my vision. I wound my arms around Jude’s neck and rested my head on his shoulder as he strode away from the battle and sifted to safety.
I didn’t fear the dark this time when it swept me under. I never would again. Why, you ask? Two reasons. One, old Murdoch was right. Nothing could ever drown my spirit in sadness again unless I let it. No matter what tragedy struck me next, I was content within myself. I would face life the way Jude had taught me—strong, confident and battle-ready. And two, I’d found my compass under the stars, always pointing me true north. His strong arms wrapped around me tight, promising never to let me fall and to always keep me safe.
Always.
Epilogue
Nine months later…
I stood at the window of our cottage, holding our pink-cheeked cherub in my arms. Mira coasted in the updrafts over the cliff under the relentlessly gray sky. Uriel was right. We were now in the Age of Gray. But my sweet bundle knew no difference. She smiled nonetheless.
“Do you see Mira? She’s doing tricks for you.”
My daughter cooed, her hazel-gold eyes lighting with a supernatural spark. Jude walked up behind us, wrapping my waist with a protective arm. I leaned back, reveling in the solid strength of him.
He cupped her head with his broad hand, completely covering her head with his wide palm and long fingers. She lit up with a smile for her daddy.
“Sweet Seraphina,” he crooned.
When he chose her name, I balked at first, thinking it a tad long and lofty for such a wee thing. But then Jude had said, “It means fiery-winged and comes from the word ‘seraphim,’ the strongest of angels.”
I looked at her coppery cap and eyes of flame and whispered, “Seraphina.” It was a perfect moment.
A far-off rumble dragged our attention out the window. In the distance on the mainland, a stream of gold light a mile wide flooded from the heavens to the earth below.
“Another chasm,” I said.
“Yes. Another.”
The chasms had opened from above and below, flooding earth with new armies of Flamma every few hours the first days after the Blood Moon. They’d dissipated after several weeks. But every month or so, another would open up somewhere and dump another army onto earth.
“Shouldn’t we go and help Uriel and the others? I feel much stronger now.”
“No need to hurry.” He bent and placed a kiss to the top of Seraphina’s sweet head. “The war will wait. Even for you. Besides, we’re winning.”
For several months following the Blood Moon, we battled the Flamma of Dark armies cropping up all over the globe. Wherever the fighting was heaviest, we went. Word spread that the Vessel of Light was on the warpath and that with my newfound power, I could kill at will any Flamma of Dark within reach. The demons were driven back, but many fled to the underworld. Toward the end of my second trimester, as I stood on a Mongolian plain, staring at a field of decimated demons, I fainted on the spot. That was when Jude had told George and Uriel they could fight without me for a while. I did
n’t bother arguing. When Jude made up his mind, that was it.
I was disappointed to learn that Bellock had escaped the night of the Blood Moon. So had the other demon princes. Four of them were left, but they’d kept themselves well hidden since that fateful night. And there never was any sign of Erik. He’d vanished and escaped punishment altogether. But the world was getting smaller. He couldn’t hide forever.
Jude had secluded us here with our burgeoning child, keeping us far from the war. The others brought us news from time to time. The constant battling of heavenly and demonic hosts had changed the ways of the world. Humans had taken up with either side and fought beside the Light or the Dark. There were thousands of human casualties, sending survivors into hiding. The modern world crumbled under the weight of worldwide war.
When my time came, going to a hospital was out of the question. What hospitals were still functioning acted more like triage emergency facilities—a chaos of wounded constantly flowing in and out. I wouldn’t have my child in such a place.
Father Clementine had helped with the delivery at his protected abode in Sussex. I had to channel my VS without the aid of an epidural. Even though I dulled the pain with my VS, the agony was horrific. But it was worth it.
It was difficult to explain my clandestine marriage to Dad. He was hurt that I’d kept my marriage from him, at first.
I’d never tell him who’d sacrificed herself at the altar of the Blood Moon so that I and my child might live. So that we all might live.
Then Seraphina came, and all seemed right with the world.
Mindy remained in Father’s care for a few weeks after the Blood Moon too. I’d noticed Xander making frequent visits to “check on her health”. Yeah, right. Mr. High-and-Mighty demon hunter had a crush. But Mindy’s spirits were low. For the first time, she didn’t respond to a man’s attentions. She was more subdued than before. War and death had a way of making people reset their priorities pretty damn fast. Trivial things didn’t matter anymore.
We’d set up Mindy and her mother in a nearby cottage outside Brodick. My father elected to keep a cottage in a more secluded spot near the Glenashdale Falls. I wanted them all close as the war raged and the world changed. Outside the Isle of Arran, humanity was falling beneath the iron fist of constant bloodshed, terror and battles.
And on the edge of the forest where Jude and I walked and the deer roamed, there was a small stone marker under a rowan tree, reading: Beloved wife and mother, who returned to the Light and to Love. Surrounding this nondescript epitaph was a Celtic heart with interlacing knots that circled and wove into the script in a never-ending line. Just as my love for her would never end. I kept her name from the marker so no wandering Flamma of Dark—in search of the Vessel who failed them—would try to desecrate her remains. She was now hidden and protected in a shaded place on an island far away from the rest of the world. When fall swept through, the rowan tree’s leaves flamed to life in vibrant orange, red and gold, reminding me of the woman whose zeal for art and beauty and love now rested in peace beneath its boughs. That was when Seraphina came. I glanced out the window at the chasm pouring Flamma of Light onto the mainland, glad it was not one of the others opening up nearby. George and Kat were busy, organizing and acting as liaisons with the constant flood of angels spreading across the globe.
Seraphina cooed and gripped my finger with her pudgy little hand. I carried her away from the window and sat on the bed, my knees bent, cushioning her between my thighs.
“That’s right, my love. Today you are you. That is truer than true. There is no one alive that is you-er than you.”
Seraphina’s mouth opened in a toothless smile, and she gurgled in response to the poem I’d recited so often. Her golden eyes sparked with mirth, marking her as something other. And so she was. She was the daughter of a Vessel and a Dominus Daemonum who loved her more than life itself. No matter what the future held, she would have us both to guide her into this strange new world that was changing, falling, building into a mysterious unknown.
I glanced up at Jude, who leaned against the windowsill, watching me with arms crossed and a heart-stopping smile in place. Seraphina yawned.
“I think she’s ready for a nap.”
“Mmm. Good. I’d like to take her mother to bed as well.”
“I think that can be arranged. I’m a bit tired myself.”
“No, you’re not. I was the one to feed her three times in the middle of the night.”
He walked over and scooped Seraphina out of my lap and tucked her in the bedside crib, but not before pressing a soft kiss to her dainty head. His gaze lingered on her a few seconds before he spread out alongside me on the bed. The mattress dipped. I turned sideways to face him and slid my hand under his shirt to his back. “I appreciate you taking full baby duty last night.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” I kissed him. Instant heat sizzled between us, as always. My body still wasn’t ready for sex, but we’d found other ways to pleasure each other for the time being.
He swept his lips lightly over mine. “How about I show you how much I appreciate you?” He melded his mouth to mine and stroked his tongue once before pulling apart. “Would you like that?”
“Yes,” I said, breathless and wanting.
Then Jude made me forget about the worries of the world the best way he knew how—with his hands, his body, his mouth…and his love.
About the Author
Juliette calls lush, moss-laden Louisiana home, where the landscape curls into her imagination, creating mystical settings for her stories. Her love of mythology, legends and art serve as constant inspiration for her works. From the moment she read Jane Eyre as a teenager, she fell in love with Gothic romance—brooding characters, mysterious settings, persevering heroines, and dark, sexy heroes. Even then, she not only longed to read more novels set in Gothic worlds, she wanted to create her own.
Website: www.juliettecross.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/juliettecrossauthor
Twitter: www.twitter.com/Juliette__Cross
Goodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/7795664.Juliette_Cross
Look for these titles by Juliette Cross
Now Available:
The Vessel Trilogy
Forged in Fire
Sealed in Sin
Bound in Black
Don’t miss the other titles in the Vessel Trilogy!
She never knew this demon world existed. Now she just wants to survive it.
The Vessel Trilogy, Book 1
Genevieve Drake never needed a man to come to her rescue. Not until the night of her twentieth birthday, when some dude nearly chokes her to death in an alley behind a New Orleans Goth club. And a hot stranger splits the guy in half, rips a monster from inside, and incinerates it into ash.
The hunky rescuer? Jude Delacroix—Dominus Daemonum, Master of Demons, now her guardian, whether she likes it or not. But she’s seriously beginning to like it.
Her would-be murderer turns out to be only the first of many minions of the demon prince, Danté, who has all kinds of lascivious and sadistic plans. Which means when the formidably beautiful Jude offers his protection, Genevieve has no problem accepting it.
For Jude and his fellow demon hunters tell her she is a Vessel, one who is born to serve the Light, but can be corrupted into a weapon of darkness. And to survive, she must trust a man whose unearthly eyes promise heaven…but whose powers unleash hell.
Warning: Contains a dark and brooding demon hunter who harbors even darker secrets, a snarky heroine who’s being hunted by every demon in the underworld, and a sadistic demon prince with a fancy for violent sexual encounters.
Sometimes sin looks an awful lot like heaven.
The Vessel Trilogy, Book 2
One demon prince may be festering in the bowels of the soul eater Cocytus, but Genevieve’s troubles are far from over. Prince Bamal, demon lord of New York City, still wants her. But this time, he wants her alive, to control her
inherent power as a Vessel of Light.
With Jude Delacroix off searching for the prophecy, Thomas—a guardian angel with sea-green eyes and an aura of winter woods—steps into the gap, offering her the power to protect herself.
Yet she hesitates, for the transfer of that power comes through a kiss. While Gen’s love for Jude is true, Thomas stirs a desire where there should be none. Thomas also knows Jude’s darkest secret and plans to use it, if necessary, to win Gen for his own.
While her Vessel power grows and more demon spawn creep from every dark corner of the world, one thing is certain—the Great War between the angels and demons is quickly approaching. And Gen is in a race against time to awaken her full power before the storm breaks.
Warning: Contains a demon hunter with dark secrets, a sexy angel with ulterior motives, and demonic creatures running amok.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Bound in Black
Copyright © 2015 by Juliette Cross
ISBN: 978-1-61922-497-1
Edited by Linda Ingmanson
Cover by Kanaxa
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: July 2015
www.samhainpublishing.com
Bound in Black Page 25