Her Black Wings (The Dark Amulet Series Book 1) (8 page)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-THREE

Abaddon

Now, why is she screaming?

Aba never got a moment to himself. He left Amalya in bed, to relax by himself in the baths. He didn’t bother telling her where he went because honestly he didn’t want to be with her anymore. Well…maybe that wasn’t entirely true when he pictured her writhing beneath him…or bent into a multitude of positions as she cried out. He took a deep breath.

A louder screech pierced through his frontal lobe. Man, he had a headache. He fished a dagger out of his pants on the ledge next to him. Leaping from the pool he hit the ground at a dead sprint. His body morphed as he ran. He barreled down the tunnel on his hooves and hands with the blade in his mouth. A garbled roar ricocheted off the stone walls. The fire in the pits shrank.

He rose up on his legs just before grabbing the rear slave. The only sound the goat uttered as he made four cuts across his abdomen was a grunt. When the final slash was executed, the slave turned to ash. The others witnessing the death carefully set the girl down and backed away, one small step at a time.

Aba crouched into a battle stance, ready to spring forward, war cry booming. The goats had to protect their eyes from the wind. They raced off.

He yelled, “Never will you touch her!”
And tell the others,
was a given.

Amalya gazed up at him with a grateful expression. He scooped her up and headed to the baths, wondering why she was naked. He hated that his underlings had touched her.

“Did you not see the robe I laid out for you?”

“Uh huh, but these…it’s gone—” She lowered her eyes.

They reached the baths room with Aba still in beast form. He put her down by dumping her on the hard floor. She landed sprawled with her chin hitting first and grunted.

“Hey!”

Deus dammit!
You sonofa
bitch.

“I have never…shit!” Aba stomped about. Ripples on the surface of the pools formed. His body shuddered then started to return to its man form.

Amalya struggled to stand, only succeeding to get onto her hands and knees. Her ass looked spectacular.

“Stay down,” he growled.

“Why?” She glanced up through her lashes. “Oh. You want it
now
? You sounded so angry.”

“We’ll discuss the
gift
later and why I’m always having to save your behind.”

“What gift? I left the dagg—”

“The robe.” Humans could be so dense.

“Oh.”

“Oh, yeah. The robe.”

“You’re not always having to save my ass.”

He knelt behind her and spanked her. His intention was to startle her, but he left a red handprint. She whined about the slap stinging. Glancing at her back between the shoulder blades, he noticed two golf ball sized bumps beneath the skin threatening to break through. The initial and sudden growth must have hurt, actually he knew it did.

“Amalya—”

A goat-footed slave burst in. “Master, my Darkness!”

“Oh for fuck’s sakes!”

The lesser demon looked at the girl on the floor, her back, and then glanced at Aba. “An angel has…”

“Has what?”

“Gotten free and removed the horns of…” He pranced around, clip-clopping on the stone.

“Don’t care ‘bout horns. What of this angel?” Aba stood facing the demon with his hands on his hips, fully erect. The goat averted his eyes. “What do you mean, he ‘got free’? No one here is
free
.”

“Aza’zel said he knows about an opening and he was headed there.”

Aba laughed. The road to freedom wasn’t an easy path. “Good.”

“Sire?”

“He has come for my female.”

Amalya furrowed her brow at him.

“The angel, bring him to me when you find him. Do not harm him or I will hold
you
personally responsible.”

“O-of course.” Goat man ran off, most lucky; his master had not killed him.

“Get up,” Aba growled at Amalya.

“You could just ask nicely,” she snipped.

He led her back to his private bedroom. She sat on the empty bed. “Stay here. And get dressed.”

“What do you think I’m going to put on?”

Whistling, he pointed next to her. Laid out were a red silk dress and matching shoes. “Oh, my bad,” she said then looked confused.

“Just get dressed and
stay
here.” Somehow, he knew she wouldn’t. He had to go check on his other ladies. Amalya had been near their chamber. Most likely they were all in a tizzy over her.

Hysterical females.

***

The voices of his other females carried down the hall. He was right per usual, they were speculating about how his venom would affect Amalya.

“But she gets a tail.”

“Yeah, maybe one that curls like a sow.”

They laughed and then Suzie said, “Probably get a pig’s snout too.

“Naw, she’s too skinny to be an oinker.”

The ladies screamed with joy when he burst through the door. Even Suzie, his favorite. He liked her because she differed from the others. She had large veiny wings with a claw at the crests, a personality, and her tits were naturally huge. A bonus. Oh…plus she was bi-sexual. “Talk to me, Suzie.” He pulled her aside. Her eyes settled on his cock. “Not now, girl.”

“Fine,” Suzie said, accepting his rejection with a sigh. She never pouted, another reason to like her. “The girls are fine, if that’s what you’re here for.”

“So she was in here?”

“Yep.”

An erection lifted his shaft. Suzie was beautiful and smart. She’d been a corporate attorney during a high profile scandal, before her death, paid to lie to hundreds of people if not thousands. Her death had been ruled an accident, but Aba knew better. Despite her questionable integrity, he trusted her opinion.

“Where did you find this one? She’s out of her league here.”

Tell me something I don’t already know.

Amalya was turning out to be a mistake. “As always, thanks for your candor.”

She spun on the ball of her foot and sauntered away, swaying her hips. He knew what she wanted.
No. No. No.
He didn’t have time for this. Okay, maybe he had a little time to spare.
No
. He couldn’t give in after refusing her earlier. How would that look to the others? Weak. It’d be weak.

“Suzie, don’t you dare walk away from me!” He rushed her, grabbing her by the hair. She squealed in delight.

She twirled around, her hair twisting around his fist. “How may I serve you, Master?”

That’s better.

Insubordination wouldn’t be tolerated. Half dragging, half walking herself, he stood her facing a diamond smooth marble wall. Heavy chains held shackles above her head. She craved punishment and raised her hands to aid him in cuffing her. None of the others understood her masochistic need, they just felt sorry for the woman. Aba knew she wanted more and that was why he walked away without laying a hand on her. This way she would suffer.

“Take care beauties…oh…and ah…there are still only ninety-nine of you.” When he reached the exit, he sealed the door so none of them would be able to escape. Except…the seal had been broken when Amalya had entered and they stayed put. He chuckled under his breath. It was safer to be inside the room than out. Goats made a great deterrent.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FOUR

Amalya

Amalya hated being ordered around. Why was she allowing this? The tattoo on her hip heated to the point of searing pain. She rubbed the area.

“Oh God!” Another pain hit her; this time in the back, pitching her onto the floor. She rose to her knees then another attack flattened her again. “Oh God. Help.” The pain blinded her. Feeling nauseous, she dry heaved. Gagging reflexes made her esophagus feel like it was turning inside out. She choked on her tongue and took deep wheezing breaths through her mouth. Her eyes watered.

She crawled over to a full length mirror. Along the way her knees and hands gave out several times from the excruciating throb. Reaching the mirror, she used the gilded frame to pull herself up and held onto one side turning as much of her back to the mirror as she could and still see. With difficulty she wrenched her neck to see her backside. Her eyes widened when more pain radiated out between her shoulder blades. The skin stretched over twin ridges under the surface. Something black poked through, oozing with blood.

“Oh God.”

Her knees hurt. She was on the floor now, her torso curled over her thighs with her feet under her. Sweat glistened on her entire body. She turned her head so she could look at her reflection. The black protrusions continued to emerge, blood trickling from the wounds.

Now numb to the pain, she rocked forward and back on her knees, murmuring over and over. “Oh God, please…please help me. What’s happening?” Amalya was so sorry again she’d once thought she’d be better off dead. She told God this as she prayed for someone to save her.

A soggy something dropped beside her leg. She plucked it from the marble floor and wiped it between the fingers of her other hand. Soft. Black. What was it? A question of denial, there was no mistaking what it was.

A feather.

The dark bulges on her back unfurled. The sensation reminded her of opening a balled fist while her knuckles cracked one at a time.

CHAPTER

TWENTY-FIVE

Aza’zel

Aza’zel had to find the angel’s woman before he went looking for him. He knew Abaddon had a new mistress. She must be the one, the angel, Elliott, spoke of. Running as fast as his hooves could take him, he traveled toward the set of chambers designated as his master’s. The first place to check was his private bedroom. His master often kept human women there until he grew tired of them then tossed them in with the rest of the harem.

A hierarchy had developed within their ranks. Aza’zel stayed away, wanting no part of that hot mess.
Blech!
He shuddered remembering the one time he’d gotten too close to the door and had been yanked inside. Their hands had pawed all over his flesh and fur. What a nightmare. They’d told him was attractive for a goat. He didn’t see any difference between himself and the others like him.

He tiptoed, well, his version of it. The manner of which consisted of creeping slowly across a stone floor that echoed every single noise. If that weren’t bad enough, the sound was amplified by the cavern-like walls. He held his breath approaching the bedroom. The door was ajar. Raising a hand, he felt the wood panel. From the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood out, he knew the room was sealed, but only from within. Anyone confined to the room couldn’t escape, though anyone could enter. Aza’zel found this curious. Why would his master seal her in, and not keep others out? The purpose eluded him.

He peered around the door-jamb and his eyes widened.

Holy shit! Wait, what? Holy what?

Where had he come up with the word ‘holy’? He inched forward three steps into the room, breaking the seal.

The female crouched on her knees. Black feathered wings straightened and stretched out from her back, the wing span nearly ten feet wide. Considering how petite her form, he surmised they were meant for flying. But could she? And why did he even care? Well, except, he knew humans didn’t just grow wings in Netherworld. Some of the harem had developed leathery wings too small for flight with Aba’s intervention, although none had feathers.

Feathers.

Jumping back so fast, he struck his elbow on the door jamb. The winged female jerked her head in his direction.

“Oh sorry. I—”

She attempted to stand, the weight of the new wings throwing her off balance. She listed a few steps to the left and then to the right.

“Don’t come near me,” she finally said.

“Uh uh. Don’t worry. I won’t.”

She lost her balance again, then regained it by putting her hands out. “Whoa,” she said.

Aza’zel stayed in the lee of the doorway with his mouth open, watching her flutter her wings. The feathers were slick with bodily fluids and the mess splattered all over. Globules hit his face and chest. He grunted and spat the goo out of his mouth.

While he was hawking, she spun around with a sour expression on her face and again he tried to apologize. “I’m sorry…I—”

“Get outta here.”

Aza’zel, hornless and wingless, walked backward until his hocks struck the wall out in the hallway. She appeared in the entrance of the room before the door slammed. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. Now more than ever he had to find that angel. The demon took off running.