Authors: Violet Walker
T
he twenty brothers gathered around the table. They all felt the vacancy of Ortho, but there wasn’t time to replace him. They were stronger as twenty-one, but they would make do.
“Chances are that demon is still separate from the nest, but that doesn’t mean the half-breeds won’t be strong. If they’re even five years old, they’ve already bonded. We go in, and we strike quickly,” Damien said. He made eye contact with Preston, and Preston nodded.
His brothers murmured in agreement, and Damien took a deep breath. “I made a mistake fifty years ago. If you have a chance to rectify it, take it.” Preston could see the pain in Damien’s face. He didn’t want to lose Cresher, but he knew they had no choice.
They filed out and melted in the shadows. Although he couldn’t see them, he could feel them around him. They were his strength. They were his family.
And they might kill him when they realized he was going to make Sierra his Coyquiha. The brotherhood could take wives. Preston had never married, but some of the brothers were on their second wives. They could marry humans and other half breeds, but the long lasting love of a Coyquiha was sacred. And it was rarely meant for humans.
He pushed the thought of Sierra out of his mind as they approached the nest. It was a modern day home in modern America suburbia. It was almost ironic to think of the kind of evil that lurked there.
The kind of bloodshed that would take place.
He counted the different scents. Thirty. They were outnumbered, and that was cause for concern, but they didn’t back down.
He linked with the others, he tensed, and when they moved, he moved.
They jumped through windows and doors, and the nest was waiting. Preston slaughtered two of them without even thinking before he got through the first room. His body was tense, and he was only thinking about the main goal.
Keep Sierra safe.
A scream pierced the air, and he whirled around. The space around him shimmered in magic, and he froze.
Cresher lounged in the doorway with a knife to Sierra’s throat. He’d spelled her so that he couldn’t smell her. Her eyes were wide with fear.
“Stop,” he shouted, and everyone froze. All eyes were on Cresher.
“So nice of you to join me, brother,” he said as he looked at Damien. “Do you know who this is?”
Damien cocked his head. “The huntress.”
“Yes. She’s is a huntress. And I’m about to slit her throat.”
“Why should I care?”
Cresher smiled. “Maybe you should ask Preston about that.”
Damien turned to Preston, and Preston knew he could see the raw and naked fear on him. He trembled knowing that Sierra was only inches from death.
“This had nothing to do with her,” Damien said in a controlled voice. “Let her go or kill her. It makes no difference to me. You’ve let a full blooded demon top side, and that has to end.”
Cresher looked around. “You’ve killed my nest.” Preston could see the rage in his eyes. “Now I’m going to watch your own suffer.”
He pulled the dagger up, and Preston moaned. He was going to sit here and watch Sierra die.
But Sierra was smiling. The blade came down, and she twisted at the last minute. It sunk into her shoulder, but she was already whirling around. He watched as she pulled a pin from her hair and sank it into his eye. He howled, and she gripped her shoulder, but she was already chanting.
Chanting?
He looked closer. The pin had a crystal glued to the end. A sleeping crystal.
It wasn’t big enough to drop him, but it was enough to make him stagger. Damien made his move, but a quick movement from the corner caught their attention. The full-blooded demon streaked from the shadows, grabbed his master, and disappeared.
“No,” Damien swore. Preston dove for Sierra as she fell, and he caught her.
“What are you doing here,” he hissed.
“Followed you,” she panted. “Wanted to help. Fuck that blade hurt.”
He gritted his teeth as he slit his wrist again. He knew everyone was watching as he healed her with his own blood, but he didn’t care.
“A sleeping crystal?” he growled.
She smiled. “I have them stashed all around. I usually wear one at all times. Just in case, follow rule number One. Never go anywhere without a weapon.” She suddenly swallowed hard. “Preston?”
“Yes, beautiful.” The wound stopped bleeding and started to close.
“The others are staring at me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“They know you’re my Coyquiha.”
She gripped his shoulders as he carefully pulled her up. “What does that mean?”
“It means that I love you. Forever.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him. “You do?”
“I do.” His heart raced. What if she didn’t return his feelings?
She licked her lips and stared at the others nervously. “Are they going to kill me?”
Damien laughed. “If a man is cursed with a Coyquiha, he deserves to suffer the consequences.” He turned. “Good job, brothers. Let’s go home.”
One by one, they filed out. Sierra looked nervously at the bodies. “That’s a lot of blood.”
He tipped her chin to stare at her. “Do you love me, Sierra?”
She laughed shortly. “I’m standing ankle deep in blood and corpses. Is this really the time and place?”
“Yes.”
She took a deep breath.
“I’ve been trained to kill your kind since birth, but I feel different around you. I feel whole and alive. I thought it was just the sex, but it’s not. It’s you. It’s everything about you. I love you, Preston Wellington. I love your demon and your human half.”
Her confession shook him to the core, and he enveloped her in a slow and long kiss.
“Preston?” she murmured.
“Hmm?”
“I love you, but if you try to seduce me among all these dead bodies, I may never speak to you again.”
“Shit.” He broke away. “Sorry. Come home with me?”
She took his hand. “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
As they walked out of the house, a sudden thought struck him. “Is your father going to kill me when I ask for your hand in marriage?”
“Probably.”
“Hm. That’s going to be a tough barrier to break down.”
“Preston?”
“Hmm.”
“We’re no longer ankle deep in corpses.”
He looked down and saw the desire in her eyes. “Sierra, we’re in the front yard of some stranger’s house,” but he was already erect.
She drew him into the shadows and dropped to her knees. “I want you.”
And as she unzipped his pants and bared stiff member, he hissed. She wrapped her lips around him, and he knew he’d give his life to protect her.
His huntress.
His lover.
His love.
THE END
Demon Romance
Singed Blood
Submission to the Dark Forbidden Mate Series Book Two
Lucile Wild
Demon Romance: Singed Blood
L
ana checked the clock impatiently. The show was running behind, and now instead of leaving at one, like she’d planned, she would be leaving closer to one-thirty. She could cut her dance short, but management wouldn’t be happy.
Poppy music pumped through the speakers, and the neon lights slashed through the darkness as the two girls finished up their routine. One swung high on the pole, her blonde hair flying, and the other swung low. There were times when Lana saw the girls accidently kick or hit each other, but tonight? Tonight they were on point.
Finally, they both tumbled to the edge of the stage and waited patiently while men stuffed dollar bills into what was left of their clothes. When the lights dimmed, they collected the money tossed on the stage and exited.
“It’s a good crowd tonight,” the blonde panted. “You’re going to knock ‘em dead tonight, Lana.”
Lana frowned. “I don’t know. They seem more of a stripper crowd than entertainer crowd.”
“Doesn’t matter,” the brunette smiled. “You’re still the star.”
The lights went completely out, and the crowd, knowing what was coming next, settled down. Lana was grateful. Sometimes it was hard to capture their attention.
She adjusted her microphone and took a deep breath. It was show time.
Low sultry music serenated the room, and a single spotlight lit a small area. She pushed one long tanned leg out and stepped to the clicks of the music.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
“There’s something about the touch of your skin.”
Click. Click. Click.
“It sends shivers down to my every end.”
Click. Click.
“There’s something about the way that you smell.
Click.
Reaching the pole, she slid into the light. The men applauded as she finished the introduction to her song.
“But you don’t know that you’re playing with hell.” Her deep voice mesmerized the crowd, and she slid her hand tantalizingly over the pole. “You’re playing with hell.”
Gripping it tightly, she pulled herself up and swung around. Her dance movements were easy so she could still sing her song, but she knew that it wasn’t about the dance or her song or even her body.
It was how they all moved together.
“You think yourself a player, and you think that I’m the goal. But baby I’ve got you trapped in my hold. My body’s craving you, and I will not be denied, but this feeling inside me is something I just can’t abide.”
As she started the chorus, she slid down to the floor with her legs straight up in the air. “There’s something about the touch of your skin.” Her legs opened and straddled the pole. “It sends shivers to my every end.” Slowly, she arched her back and moved flat to the floor. “There’s something about the way that you smell.” She flipped herself over and crawled seductively to the men. “But you don’t know that you’re playing with hell.”
She shed her top layer and stood in a black bikini with silver chains running down her torso. The men whistled in appreciation, and money came flying to the stage.
“I’m drowning in your kiss, and I’m moaning at your touch. The release you’re giving me is just way too much. You think you’ve got me snared, but soon you’re gonna see. There isn’t an ounce of good in me.”
As the music pumped, she slid around the pole again, gyrating her hips to the beat and sending seductive looks out to the audience. She ran her hands over her body and licked her lips, and even though she couldn’t see their faces, she knew she had their attention. This was the best part of her dance. Lana held all of the power.
After several more minutes, she finished her routine on her back at the edge of the stage. Unlike the other girls, she was just out of reach of the men, and there were several bouncers watching to make sure none of the men climbed on the stage. As the lights went down, she hurriedly collected her money and exited to the left.
The final act was a compilation session of all the girls minus Lana. She gave them all high fives for good luck before hiding herself in the dressing room. Alone, she began peeling away her disguise.
Off came the platinum blond wig. Hidden under it was a mass of auburn curls that matched her dark Brazilian skin. She’d always thought the blonde was a bit much, but management had wanted it, and she had no problem hiding her identity.
Next, she shucked off her costume and stepped into her sweats. Although she worked hard to keep her body tight and toned, she was a girl of comfort at heart. Finally, she worked on removing the heavy make-up. Expertly applied face contouring hid the actual dimensions of her face, and by the time it was all over, plain Jane replaced the exotic dancer. Or rather, plain Lana.
Although the change was drastic, Lana was still beautiful. Her skin was smooth but a slightly freckled, and though her nose was a bit small, her eyes were large. Dark chocolate brown speckled with amber, her eyes were always the hardest part of her to hide when she was on stage. But, fortunately for her, most men weren’t looking at her eyes.
She’d shower all the glitter off when she got home. If she hurried now, she’d still manage to squeeze in four hours of sleep before her first class.
Graduate professors didn’t like to hear that students missed class because they were shaking their ass on stage the night before. So Lana made sure that her three shows a week didn’t impede on her school. The club paid her tuition, but her education was her passion.
She organized her money and carefully folded it up in her bag. After cleaning up her station, she swung her backpack on and got ready to sneak out the side. This was always the worst part. Even though she usually got out before the crowd, sometimes someone would linger by the exit hoping to get a glance at a stripper. And she did not want to get caught.
Cole rubbed a hand over his day old beard and sighed. The day from hell was finally winding down, and he’d be able to finally get some sleep. His shirt smelled like whiskey from the Jack Daniels bottle one perp had so graciously poured on him and cigarettes from his partner’s smoking habit. He’d tried to get Ashton to quit, but the old man just muttered that after forty years of smoking, he was hardly going to quit now.
Cole had quit after eighty years, but he wasn’t going to tell Ashton that. After all, Cole still looked like a man in his thirties. Sharing his body with demon blood will do that.
“Detective Shuster?”
Cole looked up wearily as their receptionist stuck her head in the door. “There’s a gentleman on the phone for you. I tried to tell him that you were off duty, but he was quite insistent.”
God. His eyes were so dry he thought they might fall out. “Thanks Nora,” he said as he cleared his throat. He picked up the phone. “Detective Shuster speaking,” he said hoarsely.
“You sound like shit, Cole.”
Cole sat up straight. “I feel like shit,” he told his boss. Cole might be a detective with a local PD, but his main job was with the Slavante Brotherhood, and Damien was their leader.
“Well, your day is about to get worse. There is a full moon tonight. It’s going to have to feed.”
“Fuck,” he growled. He was so caught up in his own case that he forgot about Cresher and Cresher’s new pet.
Cresher was, at one time, the leader of the Savante Brotherhood, an organization sworn to protect humanity against the dangers of hybrid-demons. As hybrids themselves, they stuck to the shadows keeping an eye on the city and still stay out of sight of demon hunters.
But Cresher had done more harm than good, and when Damien, his younger brother, finally stepped up the plate, the brotherhood kicked Cresher out. Damien should have killed Cresher, but he failed to finish the job. Now Cresher had resurrected a full-blooded demon, and just a month ago, the brotherhood was forced to destroy a nest of hybrids under the demon’s spell.
Cresher and the demon had escaped, and they had been oddly quiet the past few weeks.
“I need you to be first on the scene if an attack happens tonight. Can you pull out a few extra hours for me?” Damien asked.
A few extra hours? Cole had already put in twenty. “I can do it, but I’m not exactly running at my peak performance,” he muttered.
“I’ll make sure the area is patrolled with extra eyes, but I don’t want a human to get their hands on it.”
Damien was right. Without the nest, the demon would have to feed off a human during the full moon. If a human got their hands on the case, a lot of lives would be in jeopardy.
He pulled out his stash of five-hour energy drinks and knocked one back. “You’ve got four hours before they pull me for security reasons,” Cole muttered.
“I doubt it will even take two,” Damien hissed.
Cole hung up the phone and closed the file on his desk. The robbery didn’t seem nearly as important as the mass homicide that was about the take place.
At one time, demons walked the earth and coupled with humans in hopes to spread their own kind. Instead of more demons, they beget a population that carried the strength and power of a demon but was weakened by the lifespan and moral conscience of humanity. While some hybrids wish their full-blooded ancestors would walk the earth again, some hybrids chose to deny their demon existence completely. And when some hybrids searched for ways to call demons back to earth and enslave the human race, the Slavante Brotherhood was born. Most humans had no idea that demons even existed, and they were unable to protect themselves.
Preston, Damien’s second-hand-man, was out of town on his honeymoon. He’d found his Coyquiha in demon huntress Sierra Mason. It was an odd match, but Cole was happy for him. At one time, it was easy for a hybrid to find his one true love, but marriages weren’t as sacred now as they once were. Preston had been the first in decades for find his Coyquiha.
Cole had never married. His job required too much out of him, and he rarely had time for women anyways. It was easier to work alone, to be alone. And he supposed it would be that way until the day he died.
“Nora,” he called out. “I’m going out for a drive. Keep me on the dispatch list for the next four hours.”
She looked startled. “Detective Shuster? Surely you’d rather go to sleep!”
He shrugged. “I’m the only detective here, and there is a full moon. I have a bad feeling about tonight.”
“If you say so. I don’t know anyone who pulls the same hours as you.”
That was because the rest of the force was human.