Kali Sweet Series, Three Urban Fantasy Novels (Boxed Set)

by Misty Evans

  I stopped circling, undid the clasp of my cape and let it fall to the ground. If Parker wanted a fight, I was up to the task.

  But I was also highly paranoid—you don’t live for three hundred years if you’re not über careful. Maria, Ranulf, Parker and a dead body. Something stunk and it wasn’t the garbage scattered around the area. No one knew better how tricky and conniving Maria was. I’d learned at nine years old to never, ever underestimate her.

  I had the same inclination about Parker. She was no demon, but she was crazy. Religious crazy, demon crazy, ex-boyfriend crazy. A deadly mixture ready to explode.

  She stopped, smiled at my fighting stance and removed her robe, letting it fall to the ground in an imitation of me and my cape.

  I hate imitators. “You really want to do this here?” I waved my free hand at the expanse of Millennium Park. “In public?”

  Her answer was to draw a set of slender and oh-so-sharp daggers from matching thigh holsters and dance around with them in a choreographed display.

  A challenge. And a ridiculous looking one at that.

  Maddy stepped up behind me, her jacket brushing my shoulder. “Kali, you know I’ve got your back, but this is a bad idea.”

  Battles were never a good idea. Some you had to fight anyway. Even in public. “I’ll distract Parker and her minions. You grab Arman and get out of here.”

  Arman’s breath touched the back of my neck as he stepped in behind my other shoulder. His body heat engulfed me. “We’re not leaving.”

  I flicked my wrist and Volante cracked against the concrete. Challenge accepted. “This is my fight, not yours. It’s personal. She’s mine.”

  Maddy sighed dramatically. “You don’t take anything personally, remember? The vengeance demon code of honor, or code of bullshit, or whatever it is.”

  That was part of my code. Don’t take things personally. Don’t get emotional. I couldn’t take vengeance for myself, only others. Parker is Rad’s ex-fiancée. She’s also a Noctifector who kills supernaturals for no other reason than they were abominations in the eyes of The Church.

  Touching my thumbs and ring fingers together, I raised my shield of protection. A cool, blue light enveloped me. Once secured, it became invisible. “Vengeance is mine.”

  “She’s human.” Maddy drew out the word so it sounded like huuuman.

  “She’s a Slayer, and I’m the number one demon on her kill list. All I’m going to do is defend myself when she attacks.”

  The click, click, click of Maddy’s fingernails on her cell phone emphasized her next words. “I’m texting Cole.”

  Around us, Parker and her Noct buddies inched closer. The sly smile on Parker’s face said she thought this battle was already in the bag.

  “Porca miseria.” Parker was highly trained, but her cockiness would be her undoing. I didn’t need the War demon to help me out of this situation. “Forget Cole. This will be over before he can get here.”

  I stepped forward, ready to get the show on the road. Parker sped up her forward motion as well, accepting my counterchallenge. As she moved to meet me in the center of the plaza, she swung her daggers in a series of movements meant to intimidate me.

  Yeah, whatever. I kept walking, boring and un-Hollywood as it was. Volante trembled in my hand.

  Behind me, the Nocts moved in on Arman and Maddy. I heard Maddy hiss, her vampire nature taking over. Arman shifted into his cheetah persona, letting go a cat cry that raised the tiny hairs on the back of my neck.

  The two of them could hold their own against a couple of Noctifectors, but there were close to a dozen closing ranks on them. Time for a distraction.

  Magic rippled down my arm. Volante rose in response. I cracked the whip at Parker and she jumped out of the way. Working her around to the left, I kept cracking the whip, driving her in an arc so I could keep an eye on Arman and Maddy. The Nocts bearing down on them were avoiding Arman’s claws and Maddy’s fangs but that wouldn’t last long. And there was no way I’d let my friends get hurt.

  The Bean is a sculpture consisting of one hundred and ten tons of highly polished steel plates that create a mirrored surface. Maddy and Arman secured themselves under the high arch, forcing the Nocts to come at them in pairs from either side, rather than standing in the open and facing all twelve enemies at once. Clever.

  I’d always wanted to stand on the top of the sculpture and look down. Seemed like now was my chance.

  Climbing the structure, with its slippery mirrors, was a challenge. Good thing I had both demon and vampire blood in my system, and my lucky studded boots had three-inch military-style soles that could climb anything.

  Parker advanced on me, swinging her daggers in tight semi-arcs up, around, down and out. She was slightly taller than me, but reed-thin, and a sword would’ve been clumsy and too heavy for her. Also harder to hide. Daggers could be secured anywhere on her body. They were lightweight and could slice or stab her victim. Most Nocts, male and female, preferred daggers for all of these reasons, but I knew from experience, they also preferred them because daggers were a more intimate weapon. In order to do damage, you had to get up close and personal with your target.

  Less skilled Nocts preferred swords and guns. Highly-trained ones liked daggers and knives.

  Waiting for Parker’s show to be over, I noticed a tiny line creased her forehead. Worry or concentration?

  Standing completely still, I let her get close enough that I could see the hate in her blue eyes. They looked nearly black under the street lamps. She swung a dagger at my throat. Missed, thanks to my speed when I ducked.

  Being the well-trained little Noct she was, she adjusted faster than I expected and instead of swinging the second dagger at my body, she threw it.

  The sharp tip sliced through my protective bubble, slit open my leather bustier, and bit into two of ribs just below my heart. A stinging sensation set up camp.

  What the hell?

  Sure it was a silver blade, but it shouldn’t have penetrated my protection shields. But this was a Noctifector so this blade had to be pure silver and blessed by The Church.

  Still…it might have cut into my shields, but it shouldn’t have blasted all the way through and done damage to my body so effortlessly.

  Parker smiled. “Nothing personal.”

  Yeah, right. Everything with Parker was personal.

  Using my gloved hand to remove the dagger from my ribcage, I examined the blade. Blood sizzled against the silver, evaporating into the chilly air. With the odd steam, an unusual scent flooded my nostrils. A chemical smell, part gasoline and part something I couldn’t identify.

  My demon didn’t care what it was, only that it stung.

  A lot.

  She peeked out from my eyes and smiled back. Black magic surged in my veins. Pain in my demon’s world was a good thing, and now she was ready to rip Parker’s head off.

  Letting Parker see my demon had the desired effect. She sucked in a breath and hesitated.

  That heartbeat of hesitation was all I needed. Snapping my wrist, I sent Volante at her ankles. At the same time, I threw the dagger back at her. Her gaze naturally followed the knife, while the whip sliced through the air hitting its mark with a solid snick as it wrapped around her ankles.

  She screamed and I jerked back on the whip. All the Nocts looked in our direction as Parker was swept off her feet. She hit the ground with a sickening thud, rolled several times and sent me a hateful look when she finally came to a stop.

  Another flick of my wrist and Volante released her ankles. “Nothing personal,” I murmured as I sprinted past her and headed for my friends.

  Musical notes rang out from my cape where it lay on the ground. Whisper in the Dark, that damn haunting rock anthem of Rad’s, filled the wintery air. The gazes that had been on Parker swung to my cape, then up to me as I jumped on the slippery surface of the Bean.

  Thirty-three foot sculpture? No biggie. I hit square on, but the soles of my boots slid out from under me. S
o much for all that military tread.

  I righted myself with a single pinwheel of my arms, slashing Volante through the air and taking out two Nocts on the ground at the same time.

  “Shazam!” Maddy yelled, laughing at the Nocts.

  Raj Nudra’s blood injection hadn’t given me super vamp powers, but a later dose of Alexandru’s had. The Chicago House Master, and direct descendent of Vlad the Impaler, had cut a deal with Damon to give me his blood when I had experienced such extreme withdrawal symptoms that I nearly died.

  Mixing the oldest and most powerful vampire blood with my ancient demon blood turned me into a freak. A Super Woman of evil. I could leap farther, run faster and even astral project if I concentrated hard enough.

  The flip side? I was also part virtue. One of the seven deadly sins Jesus had cast out of Mary Magdalene back in the day. I was cursed—or blessed, depending on how you viewed the glass—with a side helping of virtue.

  Vice, virtue, demon, vampire…my blood, bones and very cells were a complete Frankenstein-ish mess. And everyone wanted a piece of me. The Nocts wanted my head, other supernaturals wanted my blood. According to Maddy, who kept one ear on the supernatural underground, it was the new ultimate drug, even though no one but my blood slaves had ever tasted it. Neither of them showed enhanced abilities, although Rad’s performances in the bedroom had certainly kicked up a notch. The bedroom, the kitchen, my office…

  The ringtone of Whisper played again. I mentally smacked a palm against my forehead. Talk about getting distracted. Il pistolino always did that to me. One of the reasons I kept trying to keep some space between us. One of these days, he was going to be the death of me.

  Parker yelled at her minions and they resumed attack positions. I skipped across the steel plates to the other side, doing a mocking imitation of her and her daggers. Volante buzzed with joy, reaching for the Nocts she could reach below. They darted out of the way, but she followed, nicking their hoods, faces and necks.

  On Parker’s command, throwing stars, more daggers and even a sword came flying my way. I danced out of reach with each assault and the weapons fell harmlessly on the mirrored surface of the Bean.

  The stinging sensation in my ribs burned hotter with every movement.

  Parker pursed her lips and whistled. Not at me or her soldiers. Someone else. Something else. My blood tingled.

  A pack of vampires materialized from the gardens and headed our way, fangs bared and claws extended.

  “Kali?” Maddy’s voice, coming from below, held a note of anxiety. “You seeing this?”

  My blood registered the new vampires, but it didn’t sizzle like it did when a Chicago vamp got close. This group belonged to another city. Another country even.

  Or maybe…from the looks of their ragged clothes and lack of personal hygiene, they could be renegades.

  Sweat broke out along my hairline and the burning sensation spread throughout my chest. I’d never felt this type of pain and a tiny seed of fear made my legs go weak. The silver dagger hadn’t just been blessed by The Church or dipped in holy water. It had been forged with something stronger. Much, much stronger.

  But what?

  I’d heard stories about blades forged in angel fire. The ultimate demon killer.

  Was it possible? If so, how had Parker gotten her paws on one? It wasn’t like angel fire blades were commonplace.

  The Noct in question crossed her arms, staring me down as the vamps closed ranks around the Bean. The lead vamp jumped to the top of the sculpture with the grace of a gazelle and faced me. He smelled like all the Undead…a mixture of old and new blood and lusty magic. But he was young. Younger than Maddy if I guessed right and he was full of conceit and a deep craving. His eyes burned an intense red so he’d either been turned very recently or he was starving.

  Definitely a renegade vampire. I glanced at Parker. “You’re stooping low these days, Parker. Turning human kids into vamps to do your dirty work. You disgust me.”

  Through the years, Noctifectors had recruited other supernaturals—Rad being one of them—to help them wage war on the rest of us. ‘Recruiting’ being a politically correct term. Rad had been tortured and blackmailed into becoming a Noct. No telling what Parker had done to turn these young kids into her vamp bitches.

  “War is hell,” she replied. “Sacrifices have to be made.”

  The vamp took a swing at me, all arm and no hip. I only had to shift my head to avoid the obvious punch. This was going to be a snap.

  Literally.

  It saddened me that I hadn’t saved this kid. Unfortunately human-on-human violence wasn’t under my jurisdiction. One of these days, though, I’d find the vampire responsible and dole out some revenge.

  My entire chest ached now. Ignoring it, I casually wiped the sweat from my hairline while the vamp bounced on his toes. Before he could throw another punch, I used my hyperspeed to lunge forward and hook an arm around his neck.

  I jerked up once and snapped his head to the side, breaking his neck. His body convulsed once and then he fell at my feet.

  He wasn’t dead, and without a stake, I couldn’t kill him unless I decapitated him. But there wasn’t time for that. I kicked him off the sculpture and curled my fingers at the next vampire waiting on the ground. Bring it.

  All at once, the other nine vamps launched themselves at me.

  Chapter Eight

  They hit me from all sides, taking me down in a pile of arms, legs and gnashing teeth. Through the tangle of bodies, I heard Maddy scream my name. Arman, still in Cheetah form, bellowed. One vamp’s teeth sank into the back of my neck; another’s clamped down on my calf.

  Superman had kryptonite. I had holy water and angel fire. My protection magic was definitely on the fritz, thanks to Parker’s dagger, and the infection was spreading like poison, an acid coursing through my body via my bloodstream and engulfing my heart.

  The blade had to have been forged in angel fire. The thought made my head swim.

  The edges of my vision darkened, or maybe that was the vampire blanket covering me. My pulse raced, my skin crawled. The demon inside clawed at the secure prison I held her in, desperate to get away.

  It would have been easy to free the evil living inside me. Too easy. And once free, my demon would destroy everything in sight until someone reined her back in. Previous to my transformation into a demon Frankenstein, I’d believed my boss Damon could do that if necessary. Now, I wasn’t so sure. I wasn’t just a demon anymore.

  Bracing myself, I called on my superfreak mojo and felt it bunch my muscles and pump hard in my heart. I compressed my bones, cells, blood and tendons and then exploded out of the pile, throwing vamps in every direction.

  They hit the shiny surface, limbs flailing, blood running from their mouths. Half of them slid off the sides. The other half lay dazed.

  The exertion took its toll on me. My legs shook. I couldn’t raise my arms. Warm, sticky blood oozed down my neck, side and calf. The sculpture’s surface ran slick with it.

  Darkness encroached on my vision once more and the plaza’s lights made the rest a blur. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth and I dropped to my knees. The angel fire had created the purest silver dagger around. Add in a dip in holy water and the Pope’s blessing and it was a triple whammy my system couldn’t seem to shut down.

  Along with everything else, my shields were broken. To my right, a vamp rose, eyeing me. If he’d waited another minute, he probably could have had me as a snack. As it was, when he leaped at my head, I forced my weak arm to shoot up and grab his neck. His Adam’s apple exploded in my palm.

  Oops. Not as weak as I’d thought.

  I tossed his body over the edge and wiped off the worst of his blood, but my fun wasn’t over yet. The young leader, whose neck I’d broken earlier, had come back online. Teeth bared, he vaulted onto the sculpture and reached for me. His long fingers closed around my neck and he brought my face to his. He cursed me in Spanish.

  Interesting. A Span
ish renegade vampire group created by the Nocts? Damon and Dru would have a field day with that information.

  I would have returned the cursing in his native tongue, but my mouth was too dry for speech and he was cutting off my air.

  Balling my bloody hand into a fist, I punched him square in the stomach. He caved, but held onto my neck. We both fell off the Bean, thirty-three feet straight down to the plaza’s concrete.

  I landed half-on, half-off of him, his weight nearly breaking my arm and causing my head to bounce into the ground. Shouts erupted around me. I was burning with fever and my body felt like every bone was broken. The vamp attempted to shove me away, but my arm was pinned under his torso. I made another fist with my free hand and brought it down on his throat, collapsing his windpipe. He jerked and went still.

  My demon fell quiet. I rolled onto my back and closed my eyes. I needed to finish off the vamps and get Maddy and Arman out of there, but my limbs refused to move. The air in my lungs seemed trapped and the side of my head throbbed where it had hit the concrete. I struggled to open my eyes but they wouldn’t respond. I called on my demon and vamp blood to get a move on with the healing process, but got no response.

  Out of the pain and emptiness came the salty smell of ocean water. A soft caress of warm air caressed my face. A deluge of half-human, half-chaos demon emotions washed over me.

  I licked my lips and fought to open my eyes. They refused to cooperate. “Rad?”

  Callused fingers touched my neck, checked my pulse, and then rose to cup my face. The softness of his touch belied the anger and fear rolling off him in huge, undulating waves. “I’m here.”

  Embarrassed by my weakness, I swallowed hard and finally managed to open my eyes. My breath hitched. Blackness met my vision.

  I blinked.

  Still zero dark everything.

  Satan’s balls, I was blind.

  “Angel fire,” I whispered. “Parker’s dagger is primo stuff. I’m infected and it’s not going well.”

  Rad’s voice floated above me, the clang of swords and the hiss of vampires a distant sound. “I’ll get you out of here.”