The Holy Dark

by Kyoko M

  He slashed at me with everything he had. I could hear another demon coming up behind me, so I let him drive me back towards the middle of the floor. Sweat dripped off his forehead as he fought, growing angrier by the second as his blade touched nothing. I waited until I felt the air behind me stir and grabbed the demon attempting to sneak up on me from the rear. It was the first woman who attacked me, hellbent on getting revenge. Bad idea on her part.

  I broke her wrist and shoved her into Trucker Hat’s path. He stabbed her through the stomach. Her body stiffened and she made a wet gagging sound as if she were about to puke.

  He ripped the blade out of her gut, shoved her aside, and kept coming, his blue eyes hot with rage. He lunged. I grabbed his wrist as he passed by me, mere inches from landing the slice, and broke his arm over my shoulder. He dropped the knife with a groan, but he wouldn’t give up.

  Breaking his arm brought me in close enough to hit, so he swept my legs out from under me. I hit the floor and he rode me down, his useless arm at his side, the other wrapped around my throat. The impact cracked the wooden slats in the floor and knocked the last angel feather from my hand.

  “Who do you think you are?” he spat. “You walk in here like you’re hot shit in a champagne glass and you think you can just flatten us and live to celebrate it? We’re demons, baby. We eat your kind. I’ll choke you just enough that you pass out, but not enough that you won’t feel it when I cut open your cute little stomach and slurp your intestines down like Ramen noodles. I want you to feel it. I want you to die knowing that you’re nothing but prey. You’re meat. You will never beat us.”

  I gripped his arm with one hand, getting his attention. I tried to speak, but there wasn’t enough air in my lungs to form words. He leaned in until the blood from his ear stump dripped onto my face, his breath rancid as he grinned toothily at me.

  “What do you have to say to that?”

  “Smile pretty, prick.”

  Then I reached into my pocket, slipped out one of Myra’s homemade grenades, and shoved it into his open mouth.

  He choked and leapt off of me, grabbing at his throat. He only got out a single muffled scream before it blew his head into a million meaty chunks. I wiped my face clean, snickered at his corpse, and began sifting through the survivors for the proper stoolie. Some were dead, others rocking back and forth on the ground making animalistic whimpers of pain.

  I settled for the big guy, who lay on his back, weeping softly and clutching his burnt crotch. He may have been a demon, but he was still a man. Men really did not do well with groin injuries. He was by far the most vulnerable of the group.

  I retrieved my angel feather and climbed on top of Mr. Big Stuff. He instinctively reached for me, but I kicked him in the gut and then pinned his wrists to the ground with my feet. “You got something to tell me, handsome?”

  “I ain’t telling you shit, you—” I reached back and jabbed the end of the feather into the sizeable hole in his thigh. The acrid stench of burnt flesh rose through the air. He writhed, but I held him down until he stopped.

  “Alright, alright!” the demon shrieked. “Moloch doesn’t make his presence known because he figured the angels would come looking for him after he murdered Gabriel. Nobody knows where he is. But demons talk. We don’t like being left out of the loop, so some of us snoop around. All I know is where he’s going.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “Pray tell.”

  “Ethiopia.”

  I stilled. “Where in Ethiopia?”

  “The Blue Nile Falls. Rumor has it he wants to start the war there. They say there’s something important along the river, something lost.”

  For the first time since I ingested Belial’s blood, I felt something other than power and strength. Fear.

  Moloch was heading for the Garden of Eden.

  I narrowed my eyes at the demon. “How long will hellfire last on earth?”

  “I don’t know! Maybe a couple of days? A week?”

  “And can it catch fire to anything? Even something holy?”

  “Yeah.”

  I knew what he was going to do now. That son of a bitch.

  “Thank you for your cooperation,” I told him, rearing my arm back for the killing blow.

  A cold, hard grip attached to my wrist, stopping it before I swung down. A man spoke in a dispassionate voice.

  “That is quite enough, my dear.”

  I ripped my hand away and whirled around to face my new guest. Belial stared at me with a bored look, not bothering to even lay eyes on my victim. “Are you done now? Because we have things to discuss.”

  I stood up and shoved the feather in my pocket. “I don’t have time for talk.”

  I turned and walked away. I got about three steps before he grabbed the back of my ponytail and snatched me around to face him, so hard that it ripped out several strands of hair.

  “Don’t you dare walk away from me, you insolent child!” he snarled into my face, hot air slapping my cheeks. Rage flooded through my system in an instant. How dare he touch me without my permission. How dare he insult me.

  I slapped his arm away. “Insolent? When were you gonna tell me about Moloch’s real plan? Or were you just planning to hide until the whole thing blew over like the coward that you are?”

  “Coward?” he breathed, towering over me. “Watch your tongue or I’ll eat it right out of your mouth.”

  “Save your threats. This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? To play the two sides against one another and hope that we wipe each other out so you can pick at the leftover scraps like a vulture? Well, you’re not going to get what you want this time. I’m going to stop Moloch. I’m going to hunt him down and kill him with his own dagger. After that’s done, I’ll come back and finish what we started a year ago.”

  He stepped closer. “A couple mouthfuls of my blood and now you think you can handle me? Me? I’ve been devouring entire societies and spitting out their bones since before your ancestors even came to this country.”

  “Tough talk, but less than an hour ago, you told me I’d be the end of you someday. Maybe that day is sooner than you think.”

  I whipped out the feather, aiming to stab him in the gut. He caught my wrist before I could plunge it into his upper stomach. He twisted it aside viciously and pain crippled my entire right arm. Panic wrapped itself around my brain. Why did that hurt so much? Wasn’t I nigh-invincible in this state?

  The demon squeezed my arm so tight that my fingers convulsed and dropped the feather. He kneed me in the stomach, hard enough to crush every ounce of air out of my lungs, and then dragged me backwards by my hair. I thrashed, unable to pull myself up, choking, gagging, desperate for air and for any semblance of control.

  Belial threw me against the wall with enough force to crack the concrete, and then pinned me there by the throat. I clutched at his arm feebly, unable to look away from his furious gaze.

  “Let me make something perfectly clear to you,” he whispered. “Not once in the millennia I’ve been alive has anyone, and I do mean anyone, stolen my blood from me. I am a Prince of Hell, you pitiful excuse of a girl. If you ever dare pull something like that again, death will not be an option. I will drag you into my deepest, darkest lair and I will spend hours laying into you in every sick and intimate way I have learned from my time in Hell. You will beg me to kill you, and I will deny your request with extreme prejudice.”

  He slammed my head against the wall, sending another set of agonizing shocks through my skull. “Is that clear, Jordan?”

  He loosened his grip enough to let me talk. The oxygen returned to my lungs, and my brain. I should have been scared out of my wits. I should have been quaking my blood-smeared sneakers at the sight of him, practically vibrating all over with unrestrained hatred. I wasn’t.

  I was immensely, irreversibly, turned on.

  “Perfectly,” I purred in a low voice. His expression shifted to suspicious and borderline disbelieving at my tone.

  To dri
ve the point home, I caught his wrist and slid his hand down from my throat to my collarbone and then to cup my left breast. The blood on my shirt made a squelching sound and instantly plastered to his palm. “In fact, why don’t we get started now? Do it. Tear me apart. We’ve been prolonging this enough anyway.”

  The archdemon’s face melted into a neutral look. “You are not yourself. You do not know what you are asking me.”

  “What’s there to know?” I asked, curling my stained fingers in his expensive dress shirt to pull him closer. “Demons are all blood, death, and sex, right? Isn’t that what you’ve wanted from me all along?”

  He didn’t resist as I tugged him towards me. His breath curled across my lips and then he spoke again.

  “Not anymore.”

  I didn’t see him swing. One second, we were about to kiss and the next my temple exploded with pain and everything went dark.

  A pounding headache woke me. With every heartbeat, pain pulsed down my body. Steady. Repetitive. Tormenting.

  I made a weak sound, touching my aching forehead. My fingertips brushed over my damp hair and I realized it was clean. Where had all the blood gone?

  I lowered my hand, still too drowsy to open my eyes yet. I was in bed, but not just any bed. The way it cushioned my body meant memory foam. The fact that I could feel the impossibly soft Egyptian-cotton sheets also meant I wasn’t fully clothed.

  “Welcome back,” a velvety voice spoke to my left.

  My eyes popped open. I spotted Belial sitting in a chair next to the bed, calm and collected as if it were the most normal thing in the world that he was there.

  I struggled to sit up, gathering the navy sheets around my body. To my relief, my bra and panties were still on. “What are you—when did you—how did you—”

  The room swam in front of my vision and the headache spiked so hard it made my eyes water. I cried out, curling up into a ball on the bed. Belial’s hands settled on my shoulders, rolling me onto my back once again.

  “Don’t move. You have gone through unimaginable amounts of strain. It took nearly half of my energy reserve to heal the damage you did to yourself.”

  “D-Damage?”

  “You had the strength of an archdemon, but that didn’t mean your body could handle the stress of performing all those amazing feats. My blood healed the bullet wounds in your right arm, but you tore them open again during the brawl. Without me, you’d never be able to use that arm again.”

  Once I was flat on the bed, the headache abated. I squirmed under his grip. “Mm, let go.”

  “Stubborn girl,” he muttered, sitting in the chair. Seconds later, the headache came roaring back.

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” I mumbled, hating how pathetic my voice sounded.

  “My blood is wearing off. It is an incredibly painful process, much like going into withdrawal.”

  “How long will it take before it’s gone?”

  “A few hours. You won’t be able to move much until then. Rest.”

  “Rest?” I snorted. “With you just sitting there watching me? Yeah, that’ll happen.”

  Belial shook his head. “I cannot believe you are still this sarcastic as worn out as you are.”

  “I can’t believe you’re still such a pervert. Where are my clothes?”

  “You were soaked in blood and gore. I put you in the tub and managed to get it out of your hair and your undergarments, but the shirt and pants couldn’t be salvaged.”

  I eyed him. “Did you peek?”

  Belial stared. “You are an idiot, Jordan Amador.”

  I frowned, trying to think through the thick pain-induced fog. He had a point. I had just brutally murdered several demons without even batting an eyelash and yet I was more concerned with him seeing me naked. My priorities were screwed up.

  “How did you find me?”

  “It wasn’t hard,” he said. “The incident at the bar was on the news. I found the witness and he told me where you’d gone. Naturally, your instincts would’ve led you to the nearest demons’ nest. Though I admit I’m impressed at your ruthlessness.”

  “That’s what you wanted all along, right? To turn me into a demon like you. Now you got your wish.”

  “You’re not a demon, Jordan.”

  “Then what am I?”

  He paused. “Complicated.”

  “Well, thanks, but I have to get out of here,” I said, steeling myself for another attempt to sit up. “I have to stop Moloch. I have to save people. That’s my job.”

  My stomach clenched so hard it made me grit my teeth when I sat up. The pain crackled down my skull and hummed through my bones. I ignored it, hoping that standing would alleviate it, but my legs buckled underneath me.

  Belial caught me before I hit the floor, sliding his arms around my naked spine. Like magic, the pain vanished. What the hell?

  “I will not warn you again,” he hissed, lifting me back onto the mattress. “Stay down until the blood has run its course.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  He hesitated, brushing the stray hair out of my face so he could see me. “What?”

  I laid one hand on his cheek. “Why doesn’t it hurt when you touch me?”

  “We’re sharing power. You’re an extension of me, temporarily.”

  “Is this what it would be like if I had agreed to be your servant?”

  His eyes widened a touch. I’d surprised him, for once. “To some degree.”

  Thoughts swirled around in my head, none of them solid. I couldn’t focus on anything other than the sweet pleasure flooding through me. His skin was so soft. His hair was even softer. His cologne surrounded me. I felt safe and content. Shouldn’t I thank him for what he’d done?

  I lifted up enough to brush my lips across his. He watched me with his eyes half-lidded. He stayed above me on his hands and knees, breathing softly into my mouth as I kissed him.

  He shuddered as I opened my mouth wider, slipping my tongue past his lips. His hands balled into fists on either side of me. He kissed me back, but not like any other time before. He kissed me with careful, exploratory movements, not lustful and punishing force.

  I wound my calves around his legs, tugging him down to me. As soon as the front of our bodies met, he groaned and broke away. I opened my eyes, not realizing that I’d closed them. His face was flushed and strained above mine.

  “No,” he whispered. “You are not yourself. I have no desire to take you when you are under the influence of my blood.”

  “It’s okay,” I said dreamily, trailing my fingertips down his arm. I felt the muscles bulging underneath his white button up shirt. So firm. So lovely. “I want this. We both do.”

  He shook his head, lifting up to his knees. “Do not tempt me. I am not your husband. I am not a noble man.”

  I caught his tie in my hand, pulling myself up to meet him. “You don’t have to be noble to be exactly what I want.”

  He sighed, a pained sound, resting his warm hands on the back of my arms. “Jordan…”

  I kissed him again, pressing myself against his broad chest. He didn’t resist, his breath quickening the longer we touched. I pushed on his shoulders until he fell back onto the mattress, crawling after him. I straddled his waist, watching the torn expression on his face as I settled my legs on either side of him. His long fingers spanned over my hips, gliding up my bare skin to settle underneath my bra. He wrapped his hands around my back and pulled me down to meet him. Our bodies melted together without resistance. I felt his heart beneath my palm, hammering wildly as he kissed me. So he did have one. How unexpected.

  He buried his hand in my hair, controlling the kiss, the other hand tickling down the curve of my spine. I rolled my hips and he growled softly, his grip tightening. I trailed my fingers down the hard lines of his chest and reached for his belt buckle, undoing it. His suit pants came undone and he exhaled as I started to lift up to unzip them.

  Then, without warning, he rolled us over and pinned my wrists benea
th his hands.

  “You wicked girl,” he panted out in between deep, hurried breaths. “You’ll be the death of me. You are my Helen of Troy. Every inch of me is a warrior and a fiend and yet I would let my city burn for you. I want nothing more than to take everything you have to offer and more, but not for this price. My soul was already damned once. I’ll not have it damned again.”

  “Belial, please,” I whispered, writhing beneath him. He was so close. I could almost taste him. I needed to feel that rush again. Why was he doing this? “Please. Make it stop hurting. You have to make it stop.”

  He shut his eyes. “I will, my pet. But not like this.”

  Belial dragged my arms together and pinned my wrists with one hand, the other undoing his tie. He jerked it from around his neck and tied me to the headboard, raising my hopes for a split second. To my dismay, he climbed off the bed and the pain consumed me from head to toe, ten times worse than before. My insides liquefied and threatened to pour out of every orifice. I was burning to death and he wouldn’t help me. Someone had to help me or I was going to die. Someone. Anyone.

  He returned from the bathroom with a syringe in his hands. I struggled with all my might, trying to pull myself free, but his knots were professionally tight. I couldn’t budge.

  The needle bit into the side of my neck. Something cold flooded inside me and then the pain receded. It shrunk down until it all settled in the pit of my stomach. I curled onto my side, hiding my face as tears leaked out of my eyes. The pain stayed an icy lump in my midsection. I writhed and shivered and twisted against my bonds to no avail.

  The mattress dipped on one side as Belial crawled onto the bed. His fingers brushed against my arms and then my wrists came free. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, clutching it, praying for death or anything to relieve me of this horrible sensation.

  Then, mercifully, he pulled back the covers on the bed and settled behind me, looping his strong arms around my waist. The pain subsided like water rushing down a drain. I no longer wanted anything other than to rest.