I watched his spine stiffen as he moved to the bed and did as he was told. “Do you want me?” I asked, slowly prowling closer to him.
“I’ve never pretended otherwise,” he admitted. I stepped onto the bed, placing my feet close to both hips as I knelt down, straddling him. His hands didn’t move, he didn’t move. “Come on, big girl, say it.”
“So you can hurt me?” I asked carefully.
“No, so I can make you sore enough to remember who the fuck you belong to when you leave me here. So tomorrow, when you wince, you think of me, and the next day after it. I want to fuck you so damn hard that my dick is imprinted in your womb and you remember who claimed you first.”
“Fuck me,” I growled, not intending it as an invite. I was pushed down so fast that I wasn’t even sure how it happened. His body pounded with inhuman speed against mine until I was whimpering and screaming his name to the Gods above us. He rolled us, his mouth crushed against mine in a painful kiss, meant to punish. I brought my hands up to push his mouth away from mine, but his hands captured them, slamming them against the bed as he refused to release my lips. He was fucking me silent? I wasn’t sure if I should be okay with it, but fuck, he was sexy when he was pissed off! He pulled back far enough for me to gasp air and instead of issuing a command, I screamed… “Yes, fuck yes! Harder, you bastard,” I demanded, and he did.
Magic slithered up around my nipples, applying painful pressure. It pinched against my clit, sending my body twisting away from it as my already sensitive clit pounded with the impending orgasm. He jerked tautly, and I screamed as the hardest, most violent orgasm of my entire life bowed my back and shook the world around me as it tore through me. I moaned against his mouth, biting his full lip as he groaned and hissed as his own orgasm continued.
The moment he finished, he fell off of me onto the bed beside me. “Run, little druid,” he laughed. “Because I know how to remove it,” he admitted before turning to stare into my eyes. “When I do, I will hunt you to the ends of the world to claim you. Remember, don’t harm her people on your way out, and don’t touch anything in the garden because it will kill you. But Erie, know this, there’s nowhere you can hide from me. No one who can stop me from getting to you, or finding you. It’s no longer a quest for our people. It’s fucking personal now.”
“Sucks when the shoe lands on the other foot, doesn’t it, big boy?” I lay beside him, stretching out as I eyed the room for clothing. I expelled the air from my lungs and sat back up, only to be gripped hard around the wrist and shoved beneath his hulking frame. “Let me go!” I screeched, but he didn’t. He stared down into my eyes with something dark and brooding as the necklace glowed between us.
“It was created by the Order, Erie. My fucking Order,” he hissed out as it glowed brighter in warning. “I’m going to enjoy punishing you when I catch you. I do enjoy hunting pretty little things down and claiming them,” he uttered before his mouth claimed mine. I didn’t move away from his kiss, not until he pulled away, claiming my bottom lip between his teeth and drawing blood. He sucked it, the fire in his eyes igniting further as I reacted to it.
My legs spread, inviting him for more, but he didn’t indulge. He watched me, and then rolled off of me, unable to ignore the magic that pushed through the necklace demanding he did as I said.
“You will remain here until sunrise,” I instructed. “After that, you will destroy the necklace and then remove it. If you come after me, Callaghan, I will kill you. Happy hunting, Paladin,” I muttered as I turned around and grabbed the robe, slipping it over my shoulders on my way out of the room.
Outside the room I paused, leaning against the door as I struggled to calm the furious reaction that thundered inside of me. That man had been wild, unmatched in lust, and a fucking beast in the sheets. If he wasn’t who he was, and I wasn’t the one thing that could save his people, we may have had a future—if I actually liked him. I could admit I enjoyed his cock and body, but him? He was a rich, entitled, and good-for-nothing prick. It was too bad, really, a waste of a good dick. Maybe it was a good thing he was my first, though, because he’d set that bar rather high.
I followed Synthia’s instructions as I made my way into the garden. The moment I entered it, I screamed. A dragon literally flew over it as a woman with dark hair held a small boy bouncing on her lap as it reached for that fire-breathing, honest-to-Gods dragon. It flew back over us, and I hit the ground with my naked ass in the air.
“Oh, oh wow, you’re naked,” throaty laughter sounded and then the sensation I’d felt earlier covered my body. I jumped to my feet as I kicked myself for being the world’s biggest ninny and stared at the mother and her child. Was she pregnant with a toddler? Hadn’t I heard that the Fae had conception issues I’d envied? “You must be Erie; I am Ciara, and the dragon who is now showing off for you is my husband. The door is right there,” she nodded her head towards a thick door guarded by what looked to be mutes. “They won’t stop you. Us women, we tend to stick together in times of need. You are free to leave if you wish it.”
“Definitely.” My tone was devoid of emotion or fear as I moved towards the guards, intending to fight my way out of I had to. They shocked me by opening the gate which had a dark-haired male barring my way. I’d known it wouldn’t be this easy.
“I’m Ristan, I’ll be your tour guide to the portal as our world will try to keep you here, and as Synthia promised, you are free to leave.”
“Why the fuck would you do that? Isn’t Callaghan your friend or something?” I countered.
“Use ‘friend’ loosely and you have what he is to us. He helped us when we were in a rather tight space,” he smirked. “Not a good sort of tight place. You smell like you fucked him.”
I blinked and his sudden change of subject. “That was rude.”
“Hey, tour guide here,” he groaned as he waved his hands down his tightly coiled body. I followed those hands as I took in the Demons do it Better shirt he wore to his Doc Marten shit-kickers. “I didn’t say I wasn’t an ass or polite. You smell like you just got fucked, and you have welts around your neck. My kind of freaky deaky sexy bitch,” he laughed throatily. “Fuck, I wish she’d have our kid already. These mood swings are hell on our sex life.”
“You’re a demon in Faery,” I pointed out offhandedly.
“I am half-demon, anyway,” he agreed as he started forward and I had to run to keep up with his long strides. “My other half is Fae. And here we are,” he said with a wave of his hand at the portal.
“Where does it lead to?” I asked, turning to eye the rising sun. “Shit…”
“You should probably run; he’s already coming for you. Can’t say I blame him any,” he mused as he reached over, grabbed my shoulder, and started me towards the portal. “Good luck, druid,” he laughed. “I’m sure we will meet again if Faery brought you to us.”
“Faery didn’t bring me here, he did.”
“Faery has indeed brought you here, druid. She calls to everyone who enters, and I assure you, she led you to us for a reason. Five minutes.”
“Five minutes?”
“Until he is here,” he chuckled. “See you soon, female.”
I hadn’t considered the fact that time moved differently inside Faery. Or what time it had been in general when I’d given him the order. I turned back, eyeing the demon that smirked and wiggled his fingers at me oddly. I slipped through the portal with one thought: Callaghan was coming for me, hunting me. So were the druids and Paladins. I didn’t intend to let any of them catch me. Not now, not ever. I was Erie, born of two worlds that could never control me, and I’d be damned if he thought he could.
The End For Now…
Coming Summer 2019!
The first full length book in the exciting new world of Templar Knights
About Amelia Hutchins
Amelia lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, nestled deep in the woods with the bears, where she drinks way too much coffee and dreams of living in a tree fort.
Amelia writes bad ass women, and alpha a-holes that need to be knocked down a few pegs. There’s no insta-love in her books, and there’s always a twisting plot you don’t see coming buried in every storyline. She’s an admitted sweets addict, and could probably live off nibs and chocolate if it didn’t stick right to her hips. She prefers pajamas to clothing, and books to people but does sometimes venture out of her cave to meet her avid fans (Sometimes right on the side of the Interstate). She’s an avid reader of everything paranormal romance or urban fantasy and dreams that one day she will shapeshift into a dragon while remaining on the ground, because she’s afraid of heights.
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Chapter 1
The noxious scents of smoke, sweat, and cheap body spray assault my nostrils yet pale in comparison to the onslaught of glitter and over-teased extensions that gang bang my senses until my eyes burn and saliva thickens in my mouth. I swallow thickly, my tongue soured by the taste of strong liquor and regret. And boredom. So much goddamn boredom.
Another fucking strip club in another fucking podunk town.
It’s been months of this taxing bullshit: me pretending to muster up a glimmer of enthusiasm in order to placate my sheltered, needy brother’s quest to soak in as much of humanity as he can before the entire world is obliterated into nothing more than a tiny speck of dust.
You’d think one of the most powerful archangels in existence would rather spend the end of days—oh, I don’t know—stopping the end of days, but that old fucker is the reason why humanity is on borrowed time. Well, admittedly, I may have contributed when I pissed off Father and was cursed to an eternity of damnation by the brother who’s currently motorboating 900cc of silicone. The very same brother who helped me stage my own death so I could save an angel hybrid girl and let her live in peace with our other brother who is a fallen angel-turned-demon-turned-assassin seeking salvation.
I know that’s a lot to unpack. Big family, even bigger baggage. It can get confusing. So, let me back up a bit.
I’m Lucifer. The Lucifer. I’ve been called many different names in every language in existence… Devil, Satan, Beezlebub. But please, call me Luc. I was once the most beautiful and talented of all God’s creations, but I dared to question our Father’s motives and even convinced my brother, now known as Legion, to fall with me so we could build something new, something better. And that’s what we did…
At first.
Until Legion’s thirst for vengeance grew too far beyond my control.
I’ll admit, I was in it for a little naughty fun. Fornicate without shame, steal without remorse, maybe some adultery without Daddy breathing down our necks. Hell, sleeping in and boozy brunches on Sundays would have made it well worth it. But Legion had other plans to sate his thirst for revenge. Plans that ended in the bloodshed of innocents. Plans that no longer involved me.
I shake myself from my nostalgic reverie just in time to catch our other brother, Michael, wedge a twenty between a set of triple Ds. While the blond pretty boy may look more boy band twink than general of God’s army, make no mistake, Michael is as ruthless as the rest of the Seraph. I should know—I was one, as was Legion. And you don’t make the varsity squad unless you have a rep for being the biggest, baddest, most unfuckwithable of all the angels. And we definitely lived up to the hype.
I’ve witnessed civilizations rise and fall. I’ve watched humans conquer, evolve, and perish a billion times over. I was the serpent that tempted Eve to taste the forbidden fruit that unlocked this world’s ills. Where God’s Will was the answer, I was the question—the niggling doubt that fluttered against humanity’s consciousness. And I reigned as ruler of all evil with unrelenting fire and blood.
Yet, none of that compares to the last seven months of unadulterated fucking hell. And I know hell. Shit, I made Hell what it is today. And I’d rather burn for eternity than spend one more night like this. Just so I could feel. Just so I could be free from the prison of my own making.
You see, that Nephilim girl I sacrificed myself for? The girl that’s now the center of my demon brother’s world and the warmth in his bed? I love her. And not in the way a man loves a woman or even a parent loves a child. I love her like no other being has ever loved another. Enough to abandon my throne and all that I am just so she can know the happiness I could never give her.
So here I am. Stuck in a perpetual holding pattern, unable to land, unable to rest. Unable to let her go.
“Hey, Lucie,” Michael crows from his spot near the stage. His head is tilted upwards, and his cerulean eyes are wide with excitement as he takes in the long legged stripper who has just taken the stage. “This one’s hair is kinda silver, don’t you think?”
I roll my violet eyes and set down the glass of scotch I’ve been nursing for the past forty-five minutes. It’s shit anyway. Not that I expect top-shelf single malt in this shitty town. I can’t even call this place the armpit of the nation. It’s merely a stringy, gnarled hair.
“It’s blonde, Mikey,” I counter, my tone bored. He hates when I call him that. Probably about as much as I hate being called Lucie. Which is why we keep fucking with each other.
“Is it? Looks silver to me.”
“No. Blonde.” And that’s a man. I almost tell him, but I could use some entertainment. I might even crack a smile.
Michael goes back to ogling the featured dancer and I go back to wondering if we’ll be seeing any surprise penis later on. That’s one plus about not being able to use our powers. Since being off the supernatural grid, we’re able to fly under the radar. Along with stowing our omnipotence, we’re vulnerable to things like hunger, fatigue, and the occasional unpredicted dick.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t be opposed, but as of late my tastes have been purely singular. Silver hair, brown eyes, tan skin, and an ass so sweet you want to take a bite. Women that resemble the one I can’t help but ache for. Women that resemble Eden.
Given the unique hair color, my options are limited. And while I’ve tried to settle, I can’t see anything beyond her. Even with the occasional dopplebang, I don’t look at them. I take them from behind and fuck them hard and fast just to get it done and over with. Anything more, and I’ll remember her even though she can’t remember me. It wasn’t what I wanted but at the time, it seemed like the only way.
The evening continues on like it usually does. Michael gets his dick sucked in the back room and then tries to shuffle off the bone-deep guilt that burdens him the second the last drop of cum trickles down whatever random throat he’s chosen for the dirty deed. For all his exuberance and arrogance, he still hasn’t surrendered his true nature. He hasn’t reconciled the fact that he is no better than the backsliders and sycophants he spent lifetimes meting righteous justice to. You can take the angel out of heaven but you can’t take the heaven out of the angel, and Michael once was judge, jury, and executioner, the most gifted in battle and leadership. And after I left, he was all too happy to take my place as dear old dad’s favorite.
However, Michael quickly found out that God’s favor came with a price: unshakeable, unquestionable faith. And as he looked down from his high perch of glory and watched the world change, he, too, began to change. He evolved along with the humans he once had found no more significant than maggots in the earth, inviting little fissures of doubt to take form in his resolve. And before making the ultimate sacrifice and falling, he turned to the one being who had made humanity
his bitch: me.
So that’s what I’ve been doing ever since I walked out of that cemetery in New Orleans, the stench of death and demons at my back. I’ve been fulfilling my end of the bargain and trying to convince myself that staying away from Eden, from Legion, and from my post as the ruler of evil was the right thing to do.
I pick up the cheap scotch and down it. I’ve been stuck on a fucking hamster wheel for what feels like forever. But tonight…tonight feels like the beginning of something new.
“Ready to go?” I look up as Michael makes his way from the Champagne Room, which is probably more like the Malt Liquor Closet.
He adjusts himself reflexively, probably still feeling the ache of his purge. There’s hollowness around his eyes as if the echoes of his remorse have been haunting his dreams. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”
I slap a few bills on the table, much more than the tab demands. But I’ve learned that if you keep humans happy and well paid, they’re more likely to keep your secrets, hoping their silence will lead to an even better pay off.
We step out into the dark and the bottom of my Berluti ankle boots are met with the distinct soft crunch of snow. I frown. I knew we should have kept driving. Who the fuck stops in West Virginia for strip clubs?
“It’s snowing,” Michael remarks looking up at the ashen sky. Fat snowflakes land on his luminous skin.
“No shit. How long were we in there?” I ask, noticing that we’re nearly shin-deep in powdery white. It’s starting to freeze over with the cold temps, which won’t make for great driving conditions. Wonderful.
“An hour maybe? I didn’t realize snow was in the forecast. When will it stop?”
I cut my eyes at Michael yet don’t say a word. The idea of not relying on his angelic intuition is still foreign to him, even after all these months on the road. He’s used to snapping his fingers and being on another continent. I’m surprised he’s lasted this long without the luxury of conjuring a five-star suite at his whim.
Such Violent Delights: A Holiday Paranormal Romance Anthology Page 21