Daemon Grudge
Clash of the Demigods
Stacey Brutger
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Keegan
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Warrick
Chapter Eight
Atticus
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Nikos
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Keegan
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Warrick
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Atticus
Chapter Nineteen
Nikos
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Keegan
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Warrick
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Atticus
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Nikos
Chapter Thirty
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Other books by this author:
WHEN THE GODS VANISHED, DAEMONS TOOK OVER PROTECTING HUMANS FROM THE THINGS THAT GO BUMP IN THE NIGHT...UNTIL DAEMONS DECIDE THEY DESERVE MORE.
Orphaned young and raised by the military, Octavia only knows the world of duty and honor. When she discovers they’re sacrificing people to create the ultimate super soldier, men engineered specifically to rid the world of what they consider the supernatural plague, she rebels and vows to do everything in her power to stop them.
The last thing Octavia expects to find is daemons willing to help her survive. Or that she may be one of them. To make things worse, an ancient power has awakened inside her.
Sworn to protect her, the daemons decide to teach her how to use her new abilities. They never expected to fall in love with their infuriatingly vexing charge, who maddeningly risks everything to get justice for past wrongs. If they can’t find a way to remove the magic before the demigods discover the truth, Octavia will die when they rip it out of her, and the world will crumble into chaos.
A Clash of the Demigods Novel: Book 1
Meet the elites: Octavia, Warrick, Keegan, Nikos, and Atticus.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations for articles or reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials.
Copyright © 2020 Stacey Brutger
Cover artist: Lori Grundy / Cover Reveal Designs
Editor: Faith Freewoman (www.demonfordetails.com)
Proofreader: Missy Stewart of Ms. Correct All's Editing and Proofreading Services
All rights reserved.
Chapter One
A gunshot blast shattered the silence of the night, reverberating like thunder as it echoed off the abandoned buildings around her. Octavia hesitated, debating the wisdom of investigating when a barrage of shots followed.
Icy claws raked down her spine, the chill invading her soul at the all-too familiar sound.
Kronos.
They’d found her.
Their soldiers were nothing more than hired thugs, murderers pretending to be warriors for the good of humanity.
Without a second’s hesitation, she charged off into the darkness, following the screams of terror and the cries of the dead and dying.
She’d been hiding out in the abandoned part of the city, four square blocks of derelict office buildings. Most of them were in some stage of collapse. Stolen and forgotten cars cluttered the road. Anything resembling streetlights were only a memory. Law enforcement condemned the inhabitants here a long time ago and left them to police themselves.
Those who live in this section of the city were just shadows of people.
The forgotten.
The hopeless.
The desperate.
And her.
The inhabitants mostly left her alone. They came to her when they had a problem with the outside world, when they needed a dispute settled or justice carried out. The people who lived here knew that real monsters existed in the world…that humans were no longer on the top of the food chain.
And she was one of the monsters.
Kinda.
As she raced through the streets, she saw the inhabitants scurry away from the confrontation. A few would linger, scavenge among the dead, but only after the action was over.
As she entered the small square located in block four, Octavia skidded to a stop, frozen as her past and present collided.
The soldiers, once people she considered family, were shooting into a crowd of unarmed women and children.
The only illumination was a wisp of moonlight, revealing crumbling buildings that resembled something out of a bombed-out horror movie, trashed and burned-out husks of cars cluttering the small square. Piles of rocks that someone long ago thought were decorative gave the people scant cover.
The stink of blood and death saturated the air, invading her senses, and memories she’d shoved into the recesses of her mind rose like avenging demons.
The soldiers were decked out in state-of-the-art combat gear, including full body armor, helmets, and night vision goggles.
This attack wasn’t an accident.
They came prepared to kill everyone.
Out of about thirty people, nearly half of them were already either dead or injured.
Children scattered, their eyes wide with panic, only to be gunned down.
Though a few brave souls tried to fight back with small blades, they were no match for the firepower and were quickly cut down, their dead bodies littering the ground.
But not without taking a few of the soldiers down with them. One woman was a whirlwind of vengeance, her blades flashing in the moonlight. She ran and landed in a nest of soldiers, tearing into them. One of the men provided cover with a small set of throwing knives, his aim amazingly accurate as he embedded them in the throats of any who tried to get close to the knife-wielding woman.
It didn’t take long for a shot to catch him in the arm, then his leg, then side.
As if sensing he was in trouble, the woman advanced on the shooter.
Only to fall prey to a hail of bullets.
She staggered, struggling to lift her blades, when one of the soldiers walked up behind her and shot her point-blank in the back of her head. Octavia gazed at the fallen woman, watching as the light in her eyes flashed and dimmed.
Octavia would almost swear she saw a slight, sparkling golden vapor seep out from between her lips and hover briefly over her body before departing.
Without conscious thought, she grabbed her sidearm, took aim at the man who fired the fatal shot, and squeezed the trigger. The bullet plowed into a guy’s helmet, dropping him on the spot. He’d probably live if he got help quickly, but not without a lifetime of pain.
With a roar, the courageous man with the throwing knives drag himself to his feet and throw his last blade. Her eyes honed in on the object, and she watched as it t
hudded into the nearest soldier’s throat…
…a split second before he was eviscerated by a spray of shotgun blasts for his defiance.
Octavia narrowed her eyes, her enhanced vision sharpening, and the shadows peeled back. The people being shot had a glow to them, indicating they weren’t human.
Daemons.
One woman held a longbow. As she pulled back the string, a glow spread down the nocked arrow, one Octavia could’ve sworn hadn’t been there a second ago.
The arrow flew true, piercing a soldier through the heart. In the space of five seconds, three more arrows found their marks. It didn’t take long before the soldiers ruthlessly targeted her next. Then she was gone. As her life blinked out of existence, the glow surrounding her faded until the world turned flat and ugly once more.
Rage burned in Octavia’s veins at the senseless loss. Without a hint of remorse, she turned her weapon on the soldiers, noticing that shadows clung to half of them like living beasts. They gave those soldiers an edge, made them more than human, but there was a creepy, unnatural taint to the way the shadows licked at their skin.
Without hesitation, she fired, taking out the soldier who aimed at a child frozen in terror in the middle of the square. Shame she was too far away to kill the bastard, but her bullet had the desired effect, dropping him to the ground and putting him out of commission. She relentlessly targeted the other soldiers, pleased when a few of the kids on the ground took advantage of the distraction and ran.
Most of the kids had a blue glow surrounding them like a shield, protecting them from any stray bullets. Unfortunately, a direct hit at close range would still kill them.
Half of the twenty soldiers in the unit turned their focus on her.
As she returned fire, an older man charged into the clearing, shooting the soldiers with surprising accuracy. The same blue glow surrounded him, deflecting the bullets targeting him. He must be shielding the kids in some way. He scooped up the lone child remaining in the square, turning his body to protect the boy. The glow thinned as it stretched to wrap around the child, leaving the older man covered by nothing but a fractured shell.
Octavia cleared out her clip to give him cover, her aim true, taking out at least five of the soldiers and wounding three more.
Just as the old man reached the shelter of the building, a spray of bullets struck him in the back. The first couple of shots were blocked and clattered harmlessly to the ground. Then the shield shattered like breaking glass and the rest of the bullets slammed into flesh.
Octavia leapt to her feet, emptying her clip into the shooter, savagely pleased when a spray of blood erupted from his mangled throat. A bullet creased her arm, the burn searing into her flesh, and she flung herself sideways.
Peering under the car she was hiding behind, Octavia ignored the thump of bullets as they tore through the rusted metal shielding her, and watched the man and child with her heart in her throat. Instead of going down, the old man tightened his hold on the child and staggered into a grungy alley.
She bit back a cheer just when a volley of bullets landed a little too close for comfort and sent a shower of rust peppering down on her. As a group of soldiers began to converge on her location, she checked how many bullets she had left.
Not nearly enough.
She dragged herself up into a crouch, ready to make her own break for it, when she saw another set of soldiers heading toward the place where the old man had disappeared. She quickly changed out her clip and ran after them, urgency pounding through her.
She took a couple of shots at the soldiers, pleased when they retreated and dove for cover instead of going after the wounded man.
As she slipped into the shadows, she saw the clearing was empty except for the dead and the soldiers picking over them like vultures. They moved like a unit, quick and efficient, shooting the few remaining people who tried to run. She tightened her grip on the gun, struggling against the savage urge to charge to the rescue, knowing it would be futile.
She knew her skill level…there were just too many of them for her to defeat with only five bullets left in her clip.
As she watched, she noticed a pattern to their madness—those with the biggest glow, the soldiers knocked out with a rifle butt to the face, then gagged and zip-tied them. The rest died in terror. Bile rose in the back of her throat at the familiar scene. She skidded to a stop near the opening of the alley, the metallic smell of blood and dirt saturating the tight space.
Despite the odds, she debated the wisdom of giving in to the temptation to shoot every last one of the fuckers dead. She took a step out of the shadows to do just that when she heard a hiccupping sob.
The boy.
Alive.
And he would stay that way if she had a say in it.
Tearing her eyes away from the horror, she charged into the alley, hating herself for leaving the others behind, even knowing she couldn’t do anything without getting herself killed in the process—or worse…captured.
The old man and child didn’t get far, only a few yards into the alley.
A black smear stained the cracked cement, the trail leading to a rusty dumpster. As she turned the corner, the old man lifted his gun, the barrel aimed directly at her heart, and she quickly held up her hands.
Then it felt like someone reached into her chest and scrambled her insides with a rusty fork. “Eldon?”
She dropped to her knees at his side, his blood quickly soaking into her pants. She shoved her gun into the back of her waistband, then reached toward the old man to put pressure on his wounds, but there were just too many. Sorrow invaded her chest with crushing force, and she met his eyes. “You stupid fool. What did you do?”
“Get the kid to safety.” His voice was a bubbly rasp, every breath a struggle.
Everything inside her rebelled against leaving him…until she peered into the frightened eyes of a kid who couldn’t be more than seven. He was young, his face pale, his eyes wide. But when he saw her looking, his chin went up, and her heart broke when his mouth wobbled.
“Come.” She stood and held out her hand for him.
He looked at her, then back toward Eldon, clearly torn.
“She’s the Valkyrie, kid.” The old man spoke barely above a whisper. “She’ll keep you safe.” He pushed the boy gently toward her, but at the mention of her name, the kid’s eyes got as big as saucers.
“Really?” Then his nose scrunched up. “You don’t look like the savior.”
Octavia snorted, resisting the urge to sigh at the name they picked out for her. “The best ones never do, kid.”
He placed his hand trustingly in hers. She glanced at the alley, but quickly dismissed it as a means of escape. The soldiers would be waiting for them. The chirp of a bird caught her attention, and she tipped her head back to see Nettie peering at her from a window above them.
The girl was no more than sixteen and looked even younger. Her blonde hair was cut in a pixie style that made her eyes appear big and innocent. Nothing could be further from the truth. Her delicate features hid a ruthless mind, and she had no remorse about using it against those who were stupid enough to fall for it. The kid had followed her around doggedly until Octavia caved and allowed her to do odd jobs in return for teaching her to survive. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Nettie scowled down at her. “Give me the kid. I can get him out through the maze.”
The maze was what the kids called the sewer tunnels under the city.
Octavia hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded. She peered down at the kid, patting his hand. “I’m going to toss you up to Nettie, and she’s going to take you someplace safe.”
He tightened his hand on hers, crowding closer, and she ran her hand along the top of his head. “It will be okay. Promise.”
The kid eyed the distance between the ground and the second-floor window, then gave her a skeptical look. “There ain’t no way you’re going to make that.”
Octavia gave him a wink. “D
on’t you know Valkyries can fly?”
She scooped him up under his arms and bent her legs. “When we reach the window, all you have to do is grab for Nettie. Ready?”
His heart hammered like humming bird wings, but he nodded.
“Good boy. Here we go.” Without giving him a chance to panic, she jumped and launched them both through the air toward the window. She caught the ledge with one hand, and the kid latched on to Nettie like a leech a half a second later. Nettie seized the back of the kid’s pants and pulled him through the window. A heavy thump against the floor had her shoulders relaxing.
He was safe.
Nettie gave her a cocky salute, cap pulled low over her dirty face. Though she was dressed as a ragamuffin, her smile and delicate features gave her away every time. “I got him, Valkyrie. Go. Save Eldon.”
With a nod, Octavia released the ledge and dropped silently to the ground, crouching to ease the brunt of the impact.
Eldon gave a watery chuckle, pushing himself upright. “The name suits you.”
Octavia rolled her eyes, shooting to her feet and hurrying to his side as bright red blood continued to soak into his shirt in an ever-widening circle. “You’re the one who gave me that ridiculous nickname.”
Just as she reached for him, a slight scuffle of feet had her whirling. She had her gun in her hand before she was aware of even moving.
And she stared into the barrel of a rifle just a foot from her face.
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