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Edge of the Darkness (Hell on Earth Book 4)

Page 2

by Brenda K. Davies


  And I never would be again. I’d considered easing the desperate, insatiable need he awakened in me with other demons, but the idea of screwing one of them made my stomach turn. I’d never be able to go through with it, which only made me hate him more. Yet, I still didn’t push him away.

  Over the past month, he’d materialized in my dreams a dozen times since we fought each other, but things had never gone this far before. I’d resisted him every other time.

  No, that wasn’t true. With every dream, we got closer and closer. Sometimes, during the day, I found myself looking forward to going to sleep. I despised that I craved this man’s touch, but whether this was real or not, I yearned for it.

  When I tilted my head back and met those eyes again, the ice in them was colder than before. He liked playing with me, enjoyed this game of tormenting me, but he disliked the irresistible connection between us as much as I did.

  He slid his hand inside my pants and between my thighs. “I think you’re going to hunt me, but I’ll be the one who catches you, and when I do, I’m going to make you come.”

  I laughed and shook back my fiery red hair. “That will never happen.”

  “Won’t it?”

  “No.”

  As I said the word, my breath quickened as his finger found and teased my clit.

  Stop this.

  But I could no more stop him than I could stop the humans from tearing open the gateway that unleashed Hell on Earth fifteen years ago. Gritting my teeth, I dredged up the last of my resistance and seized his wrist. I stopped his tantalizing touch as my eyes narrowed on him.

  Red and orange fire flashed through his eyes before he smiled at me. “I can smell your arousal. You’ll come to me, Bale.”

  “And I’ll kill you when I do.”

  Placing his hand against the wall behind me, he leaned forward and rested his lips against my ear as he whispered. “The way I intend to fuck you might kill us both, but what an exquisite death it will be.”

  Those words made me impossibly wetter as my head spun with the promise of them. I tried to pretend this was only a dream, that it would all end when I woke, but I suspected it was so much more.

  His lips brushed my forehead before moving lower toward my mouth. I recalled the intensity of his kiss, the way it made me feel more alive than his hands on me now. The way it awoke me to something I never knew I was missing.

  If he kissed me again, it would be my undoing, and I wouldn’t be able to resist him.

  Wake up!

  Before his mouth found mine, I jolted awake.

  I sat upright, and my head twisted from side to side as I searched the night for any hint of Wrath. My heart beat so loudly I was sure they heard it in Hell; I expected to see him standing in the woods, staring at me, coming for me, but he wasn’t there.

  The little bit of light piercing through the thick canopy of evergreens surrounding us made the night almost as unfathomable as the darkness in my dream, but I picked out the slumbering forms of our small army amid the trees. The fire we lit earlier was little more than burning embers and provided no warmth.

  Shoving myself to my feet, I ignored the lingering ache in my body after being denied its Chosen again and strode away from the tree I’d slept against. I ignored the chill of the forest as I stopped to place more wood on the fire before walking into the woods.

  Even with my many layers of clothes and a heavy coat on, the cold had seeped permanently into my bones. I’d adjusted to countless things since arriving on the mortal realm, but the cold was not one of them.

  It was December on Earth, and in the mountains, December was a brutal time of the year. However, we hadn’t located the shelter of a cave before nightfall, so we settled in a grove of pines that protected us from the worst of the wind.

  I thought we’d traversed most of the Wilds, but this section in this range of mountains was new to Wren and us. After destroying the minotaur, we waited for Magnus and the others to join us before striking out after Wrath. At first, we planned to go after him without them, but when we tried to track his trail, we discovered he hadn’t left one.

  So, with no trail to rush after, we decided it was better to wait for backup before trying to hunt down Wrath and his remaining horsemen. Once Magnus, Shax, and the others arrived, we blindly struck out in the direction Wrath was last seen heading.

  Actually, it wasn’t blindly anymore. In the beginning, I hadn’t felt much of anything, but lately, something was drawing me in a certain direction. I hated the idea of being connected to him in this way, but if it helped me hunt him down and kill him, then I would use it to my advantage.

  I had a feeling we were getting closer. I’d told the others this, and because they trusted me, they believed me. I hoped I wasn’t wrong; I wanted this over. However, I wasn’t so sure they should trust me anymore.

  They didn’t know Wrath was my Chosen. Knowing that it wouldn’t do them any good, I’d kept it from them. They didn’t need to learn that I wouldn’t survive the battle against him and the other horsemen. They might try to keep him alive to save me, and that could not happen.

  The horsemen had to be destroyed, even if it destroyed me in the process. And it would destroy me. Even if we never completed the Chosen bond, I wouldn’t survive the loss of Wrath. This knowledge would only upset my friends, and since I planned to enjoy the rest of my days, I was not going to deal with things like emotions.

  “Bad dream?” a voice murmured from the darkness.

  At first, I believed it was Wrath, that he had found me, but then recognition clicked in, and I searched the night for Caim. I discovered the fallen angel leaning against a tree. With his ebony hair, eyes, and wings, he blended into the shadows, but when he shifted, the dim light caught the rainbow colors in his eyes and wings.

  I caught sight of the two silver spikes jutting from the top of his wings, but I couldn’t see the spikes at the bottom. There was a time when I hated the fallen angel as much as Wrath, but whereas I would always despise Wrath, Caim had grown on me.

  He was annoying and was once the enemy, but he was firmly on our side now, and he would do anything for his niece, and my queen, River. Still, I was not in the mood to deal with the fallen angel.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I said. “I’ll take over the watch.”

  “I’m good here. Like you, I don’t require much sleep. Besides, this is the only quiet I get.”

  Usually, he was the one disrupting the quiet with one asinine comment or another. “It is much more peaceful at night,” I said.

  Caim tilted his head to study me, and I tried not to bristle under his scrutiny. If I reacted too harshly to him, he would suspect something. While there were times when Caim acted a little insane, he was far from stupid.

  “Then we shall enjoy the silence together,” he said, and his eyes drifted back toward the camp.

  I turned to survey the demons and humans with us, but the Chosen couples drew my attention. Hawk and Aisling slept near a rock together and were wrapped in blankets. Corson and Wren lay at the edge of the camp, near where I’d slept. Corson held her against him as they slept peacefully in their sleeping bag. Magnus and Amalia were closer to the fire and in each other’s arms.

  That was what a Chosen was supposed to be. You were supposed to love them and cherish them and hold them through the night; they were not supposed to be your greatest enemy. They were not supposed to be someone you were destined to kill.

  But then, Wren had despised demons in the beginning, and Magnus had disliked the jinn, but they had all worked it out. In his sleep, the demon of illusions, a demon I’d often considered beating into bloody oblivion, smiled as he pulled Amalia closer.

  However, having one of the horsemen as a Chosen was a lot different than a human who hated demons and a jinn. The horsemen had to die.

  “Where’s Raphael?” I asked.

  “On the other side of the encampment keeping watch. Lix is fifty feet that way.” He pointed to the right. “And Shax is a h
undred feet that way.” His arms crossed over each other as he also pointed to the left.

  I rolled my eyes at the gesture and the grin on his face, but sometimes, he was also a teeny tiny bit amusing.

  It would be better if I moved away from Caim and we spread out, but I found myself staying near the fallen angel. If anyone understood loss and regret, it was the angel tossed from Heaven for trying to stop a fight between his siblings. It was the angel who then turned his back on his fellow fallen to help a king he didn’t follow and a niece he didn’t know. It was the angel who lost everything, sacrificed it all, and continued to fight for what he believed was right.

  No, I had despised Caim in the beginning, but now, I possessed an infinite amount of respect for the angel with the black wings and a heart of gold. A heart the rest of the angels, fallen or not, didn’t possess.

  “The hounds are also on the prowl,” he said.

  “Good.”

  Leaning against a tree, I removed my new sword from its scabbard. I’d taken the sword from a demon I slaughtered; it was a good weapon, but it wasn’t the same as the sword Wrath now possessed.

  That sword had seen me through centuries of battles and destroyed countless enemies. It fit my hand like a glove, it was a part of me, and when I saw Wrath again, I would get it back from him and use it to take his head.

  Chapter Three

  Wrath

  I pushed myself up from the rock I slept on and glanced around the pitch-black cavern. Lifting my hand, I willed fire to rise from my fingertips. It encircled my wrists and cast shadows across the gray walls surrounding me.

  The throbbing in my cock drew my attention to my erection. I contemplated easing myself, but that had proven to be a useless endeavor since I first encountered Bale. It gave me only a brief release that was swiftly replaced with frustration when I found myself still yearning for more.

  I’d tried using a tree nymph to ease me; the second she touched me, revulsion curdled in my stomach. I tried pretending the nymph was Bale, but my traitorous dick knew the truth. That incident had only made me angrier and more frustrated. Using my hand for relief was awful, but it was my only option as I wouldn’t try with another again.

  There was only one demon who would satisfy me, and she was still resisting me in our dreams. And what exquisite dreams they were. I could still smell the fiery aroma of Hell and the more subtle scent of fresh air and woods embodying her.

  It should infuriate me that she, like so many other demons, had allowed Earth to change them so much their scent reflected it, but with her, my anger didn’t come as easy as it usually did. I also enjoyed her refreshing aroma.

  But I shouldn’t. She kept refusing me; she had stabbed me. I slapped my hand off the rock floor, and my fire raced up to my elbows. I welcomed the heat of the flames and the release of the rage coiling incessantly within me.

  This was who I was. It was who I’d been for so many thousands of years that I could barely recall most of them anymore. My age, like so many other things in my life, was lost to me before the varcolac sealed me away with my fellow horsemen.

  And now, some demon, the enemy, was making her way into my life and my dreams. For twelve thousand years—or at least that’s how long the other demons said we spent behind our seal—I sat locked away with my brethren.

  For twelve thousand years, I’d harbored and nurtured a hatred toward the demon who locked us there—the varcolac. For twelve thousand years, the only thing keeping me going was the possibility that one day, I would break free and murder the bastard who locked us away. It was the only dream I harbored during those desolate, lost millennia.

  Of course, while behind the seal, I had no way of knowing the varcolac who locked us away was dead, or that Lucifer and the angels had penetrated Hell, and many varcolacs had risen and fallen over the years. However, I didn’t care that the one who ruled now was not the one who locked us away. He was still the varcolac; he hadn’t freed us, and he would pay.

  But at what cost?

  We had already lost six of my brethren. I despised them before being sealed away; being locked away with them for thousands of years hadn’t engendered any love for them. Instead, my hatred for them grew, but they were my fellow horsemen, and no matter how much I hated them, we were the only ones in existence, and that bound us together.

  When this was over and the varcolac was dead, I planned never to see any of them again. There was a chance a new varcolac would rise. If it did, I would kill that one too, and all those who followed. But there was also a chance the downfall of the seals and Hell would make it impossible for such a thing to happen.

  And when the varcolac was dead, I would not hide anymore. I would go out into the world and claim what was mine… a demon with fiery red hair and lime green eyes. Bale would fight it, but I had not lived this long and come this far to be taken down by the Chosen bond. Enemy or not, she would yield to me.

  I rose from my bed of rock and, not bothering to dress, made my way toward the exit of the cavern. My horse, Zorn, lifted his head from where he stood in the corner. He blew out an impatient breath, but his hooves clacked against the floor as he followed me from the cavern. He easily could have stayed behind, but we were often in view of one another. That was the way we preferred it.

  My bare feet didn’t make a sound against the rocks. Stepping out of the cavern, I ignored the rocky walls and golden statues I passed as I made my way toward the exit. I should stop reaching out to her in my dreams, but the fiery temptress was impossible to resist.

  Every night I went to sleep, determined to keep it under control, but for the first time, I couldn’t control one of my abilities. Before meeting Bale, I hadn’t been able to connect with others in such a way.

  Now my ability to connect with and enflame the emotions of others had twisted itself into something that allowed me to communicate with her while we slept. The Chosen bond was the driving force behind this new development, and it only worked with her. Once I discovered I could connect with her, I tried to do it with others and failed.

  She was the only one I could connect with, and now that I’d started, I couldn’t stop, which did not help to improve my increasingly foul mood.

  However, each time we connected, she allowed me to get a little closer and touch her a little more. I recalled her wetness against my fingers, the way her breath caught, and the passion shining in her eyes.

  The closest I’d gotten before was unbuttoning her pants, but little by little, I was wearing down her defenses. Soon she would let me inside her, and even if it was only a fantasy, it was real enough that I wanted more of it.

  My flames caught and reflected in the statues as they burned hotter. Unable to ignore the shimmering light reflecting in the gold, I glanced at the carvings watching me from the shadows, or at least it felt as if they watched me.

  When I first entered this forgotten place, the carvings fascinated me. I’d spent hours and days studying the demon statues lining the walls. Upper and lower-level demons lined the hall in almost equal amounts. This place, having risen from Hell like so many other things, consisted of hell stone and the statues.

  However, I’d never seen anything like them when I was free in Hell and had no idea what material was used to carve them. They were all in different positions. Some were standing, others knelt, some sat, and one lay face-first on the ground. Many of them had weapons, some held nothing, and a few held bowls or clothes or mugs.

  The mystery of this place fascinated me, but because we couldn’t let anyone know anything about our location, I didn’t ask any of the other demons about the carvings and what demon made them.

  I didn’t understand what had compelled a demon to create these things. Demons were not creatures given to creation; we much preferred destruction. It was what we excelled at; so seeing these carvings throughout the halls was surprising to me. But what amazed me more was my fascination with them.

  At times, I contemplated battering all of them until only dust remained
. I was Wrath, so it was my responsibility to ruin everything I encountered, but as I pictured destroying them, I recoiled from the idea and couldn’t move any closer.

  I was a creature of destruction; these things were a work of art and beauty that should offend me, but I couldn’t ruin them. And my fellow horsemen wouldn’t destroy them; they didn’t harbor an overwhelming impulse to ruin everything in their path.

  Well, War did, but he was more strategic in his destruction than me. He incited people to violence, but they did it on battlefields or in large groups. When I set my wrath free, I didn’t care how those it affected killed whoever got in their way. Part of the fun was the never knowing how or what someone would do when they cracked.

  That’s why I was nowhere near as boring as War and the others. I was unpredictable, and so were those I affected. Death simply killed, Pride preened, and War could take years to get his victims into the full swing of things. I took mere seconds.

  Now, with only myself, War, Death, and Pride left, there was no one to destroy the statues, except for me. And I didn’t have the time for it.

  I refused to acknowledge that I might like or admire the carvings. I didn’t like anything. I’d never liked anything.

  I was thousands of millennia older than most demons. I never knew my parents; I wasn’t sure if I had parents or evolved from the bowels of Hell. And it didn’t matter to me if they once existed or not. If they once lived, it was so long ago I didn’t remember them, and I doubted there was any love between us.

  When water splashed over my feet, I pushed aside my troubled ruminations as I neared the end of the tunnel. I didn’t go all the way to the end. I stood there and let the coldness seeping into my bones quench the last of my lust for Bale.

  Not for the first time, I wondered about the darkness in her dream. We didn’t always connect, probably because we weren’t asleep at the same time, but every time we did connect, the darkness was there. I didn’t know what it meant, but it was important to her. The problem was, I didn’t think she knew what it was either.

 

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