Soul of a Demon (The Dark Souls Book 3)

by Jamie Begley

  She started to sit up. “I’ve been thinking … Thor needs a wife. I found mates for my daughters with Mother’s help. It’s time you stepped up and helped me find a wife—”

  “Fate?” Odin groaned.

  “What!”

  Fate found herself flat on her back with a horny god looming over her.

  “Shut up.”

  Wolf

  Black Angels MC, #2

  A.E. Fisher

  Available Now!

  Prologue

  Anna

  4 years ago...

  “Do you know what it’s like to see someone you know murdered?”

  Murder. Not manslaughter, not self-defense.

  Murder.

  I felt sick to my stomach, wanting to wretch but fighting the urge as I saw the lifeless, glassed eyes of the bitch I’d always hated looking up at me. I had hated her, her family, and what they had done to the person I held dearest.

  So, when I looked at the photos, at the blood pooling on the wooden floor of her country home, her dyed and styled hair stained with the deep, rich color, and her bitchy scowl now placated on her cold, dead face, I wanted to feel a sense of satisfaction. I wanted to say I was surprised I didn’t do it sooner.

  But I couldn’t.

  All I could do was fight the need to sneer in disgust. I couldn’t even lift my eyes from the photographs scattered across the metal table, highlighted so well under the intense bleaching light.

  “I know what it’s like,” the detective said from his corner of the room. I wish I could tell you what the office looked like. But I couldn’t. She was just a dark blur, hovering in the corner of the room, watching my every move, waiting for me to slip up. “I saw my mother murdered. It’s what inspired me to become a cop. To seek justice against those who hurt others. Is that not why you became a lawyer, Anna? To fight for justice.”

  I shook my head, wanting to reach for the plastic cup of water on the table but knowing not to. My paper mouth remained a hidden fact to the detective as her eyes glanced toward my hands that sat comfortably on my thighs, fingers splayed, palms flat. The cotton of my pencil skirt absorbed the sweat of my palms, hiding the nervous gesture.

  I heard her footsteps click across the room, then saw her long fingers pushing a specific photograph toward me.

  “Do you know how much force it takes to push a knife through the sternum of a fully-grown woman?” She paused, waiting for my response.

  I leaned back in my stool, dragging my eyes up from the photograph, trying to ignore the slither of silver mixed in the blood and pale skin of the woman in the photo as I looked up at the detective’s face. I looked straight through it as I raised an eyebrow at her, processed her words at last, and said, “Surely impossible for a small woman.”

  “It would be. If it weren’t for an adrenalin rush.” The detective sighed, faking her surprise at the fact the M.E. no doubt told her. “That plus the added weight as the attacker…”—she slowed on the word, probably glaring at me—“as they fell on top of each other. Mrs. Rothwell’s screams would have hurt her ears, being so loud, as she died an incredibly slow, painful death when the knife pushed through the bone inch by inch until the sternum shattered and it went straight through her heart and out of the rib bone.” A long pregnant pause thickened in the air as I swallowed the bile in my stomach, a cold chill sending goose bumps up my arms and legs. “That’s how they did it. How they murdered her. Am I right?”

  I shoved up out of my chair, the metal screeching back, while the detective took a quick step back, body flaring with fight when I slammed my hands on the table, covering the photos and fighting the need to flinch. My muscles burned from tearing through the tautness they’d been wound into, but I ignored them as I looked the faceless detective in the eye and said, “I don’t appreciate slander, detective. I know what accusations you are throwing at me, and I’ve had my fill. So, since you don’t have any more questions for me,”—I glared at her, challenging her to argue with me, but she didn’t—“I’m going home.”

  With that, I snatched my handbag, swung it over my shoulder while fighting not to look back at the photos on the table, turned, and walked toward the door.

  “Anna.” The detective stopped me. I was tempted to snap at her for using my first name but didn’t as she gave me her cool, cold stare. “We will find the murderer.”

  “Do your job right, detective,” I said, swinging open the door of the interrogation room. “And you will.”

  With that, I turned and walked out into the hallway that was once simply business for me, but now was too cold, too daunting as I quickly raced my way back up the steps, through the entrance, and out onto London’s streets, leaving Scotland Yard behind me for the very last time. I knew very well that no matter how well the detective did her job, the murderer would never be found.

  Because I would never let them.

  Chapter 1

  Wolf

  Present day...

  I felt the hangover long before I opened my eyes. The dull throb conjured me awake, while the cotton-mouth made me want to go back to sleep. I rolled onto my back, the big king-sized bed covered by my size as I stretched and sat up. I reached to the nightstand, pinching the bridge between my eyes as my fingers patted the pine bed stand. My hand was still patting around when I heard the breath of a flame.

  I turned to look over my shoulder, watching the smoke rise into the room.

  A toned Native American girl sat up against the headboard, making no effort to cover her soft bronzed curves and dark chocolate nipples. She held the cigarette to her mouth, took a long drag, and blew a circle of smoke into the air.

  “Morning, sunshine.” She smiled, revealing straight white teeth.

  I stood, walking around the bed until I towered over her lengthy body. She was tall, but I was taller, and even as she rose to her feet, pressing her silky skin against my hard chest and even harder shaft, I dwarfed her.

  Smoke blew into my face. Then the girl pulled the cigarette from her lips as I brought my face closer. My hand caught her elbow, my faded, black tattoos dulled against her skin tone as I ran my rough and calloused fingers to her wrists. Her soft, plump lips were only an inch from mine, and just before they touched, I let out a soft growl.

  “Don’t touch my smokes.” With that, I plucked the cigarette out of her hand and stepped back. I enclosed the white tobacco stick with my mouth and breathed in, the nicotine waking up my system with an unhealthy, but preferred, good morning.

  The girl pouted. “You didn’t mind me touching elsewhere last night.”

  I shook my head. “Last night was last night. Now it’s morning. The rules have changed.”

  “Oh?” The girl purred, her eyes rolling up and down the length of my huge body, her lips damp. “And what are the rules now?”

  “The rules, huh?” I took another drag, pretending to think about it. “No women in my room. Get out.”

  With that, I stubbed the cigarette into the ashtray on the dresser and headed to the bathroom, leaving the girl standing there with wide eyes and an open mouth that I was nine out of ten sure I filled last night.

  “You’re joking, right?” The girl followed after me.

  I filled the doorway to the bathroom and turned on her, making her come to an abrupt stop. I leaned down, letting my face get close to hers, but this time, she took a slow step back.

  “I don’t joke, sweetheart.”

  I slammed the door shut on her opening mouth and patted myself on the back for having had the walls sound-proofed. I turned on the shower and stepped inside, also thanking Lamb, my vice-president, for making sure we got high-pressure showers installed despite the sky-high price we had to pay for them.

  I leaned my head against the shower wall and sighed, begging for the water to wash away the pounding throb in my skull. I stayed in the shower for ten extra minutes, giving the girl more than enough time to get her little ass out of my club before stepping out.

  Last night showed on my
face, with the dark stubble shadowing my jaw and dark hair sticking to the sides of my broad face. I had a bruise purpling on my jaw—not that I had any idea how it got there. And to be honest, I didn’t care.

  What I did care about, was why on earth I let Jax convince me to try his moonshine.

  I didn’t bother shaving, opting to get dressed and go track the bastard down to show him how much I appreciated his generous gesture last night, then find out what the hell happened, since I didn’t remember much after the third glass.

  I dragged on a shirt, jeans, and my worn Black Angels cut, scratching off a bit of dried blood on the sleeve, and made my way down the hall of rooms, noting some of my brothers half-dead in bed with a few girls draped over them.

  As I entered the bar, I couldn’t help but notice that noise. That same goddam noise that made my dick twitch whenever I heard it, and my ball twist in pain until it went away.

  Anna’s boots clicked against the wooden floors. She jumped up onto one of the stalls that she refused to lower, even as her short, curvy legs barely reached the footrest. Her perky ass jiggled its way into a comfortable position, and her upper body leaned those round globes stuck to her chest onto the bar as if offering each inch of them to be bitten.

  Lamb stood by the bar, not showing whether he’d noticed me or not. His blond hair was perfectly styled, spikes protruding everywhere despite last night’s party, and the monkey suit he was dressed in told me he had business later that day. Considering it was Lamb, he had more than likely clocked me walking in without having to look in my direction. Instead, his eyes stayed on Anna, more than happy to watch the feud about to begin.

  I silenced my feet, the skill coming back to me with ease, as I slid across the chipped, worn, and stained wood floors, coming up behind her in silence, catching that strong scent of her faint rose scent and feeling my headache start to recede.

  I noticed her body stiffen and smiled at her awareness.

  My hands reached around her and pressed down on the aged bar, caging her in. I leaned down, my face coming close to her ear, the softness of her silky, soft short hair brushing against my rough cheeks.

  “And to whom do I owe this pleasure?” I purred, letting my voice rumble low in the way that always made her quiver even when she tried to hide it.

  It worked like a charm.

  “Get lost, Wolf. I have no time for you this morning.”

  Most men would have lost their nerve at the ice in her voice, but I knew the game and wasn’t buying it.

  “You say that, but I’m sure that ass of yours came here looking for trouble.”

  She spun on her stool, making me step away before she kicked me with those boots. I was not having a repeat of the time I found out they were steel-capped.

  Blue eyes narrowed through her short ice-blond hair, glaring at me as they scanned my features. They reached the side of my jaw, and I had no doubt she spotted the bruise I had attained at some point last night.

  She let out a long, suffering sigh.

  “I’m surprised you weren’t one of The Three Amigos I visited this morning.”

  “Who?”

  “Actually, they were referring to themselves as The Three Muskateers,” Anna amended after a thought. “Anyway, I need you to go pick them up, since there’s no way in hell I’m letting them puke in my car again. Not unless you want to find them pinned to a stake in the yard.”

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask, but I was more than sure I could guess at least who two of the three were. “Once again,” I said, “who?”

  “Jax, Pretty, and Mint,” Anna replied. “Got themselves so wasted last night they got picked up by the sheriff for going around harassing girls claiming to be—and this is a direct quote—‘their selfless saviors that will take away the evil demon called virginity.’”

  I choked. “You’ve got to be kidding?”

  “Unfortunately not, big boy,” Anna scoffed, her hand giving my chest a pitiful pat.

  “You think I’m big?” I growled, leaning even closer.

  Anna’s eyes narrowed, and I prepared for a defensive attack. Instead, she licked her lips, her body leaning forward until I could feel the heat of her skin against mine. It curved into the perfect space of my caging arms, her nipples just brushing my chest. “You’ll be big when I’m done with you.”

  “Is that an offer?” I growled, my mouth wanting to bite those red, full lips tempting so dangerously close.

  “Oh, yeah,” Anna purred, her hands feathering across the waist of my jeans and down my back, her nails brushing the surface of my tough skin with only light, shallow scrapes of her blood-red claws. I fought through the twinge of pleasure each nick sent down into my pants, my eyes pinned lower on her face as her white teeth raked down on the matte red of her lips, tempting me to do just the same. I could just note the blue of her eyes above her porcelain-pale skin, half-lidded and flickering between my widened pupils as she checked to see if her deception was working. I felt her fingers rake underneath my shirt then slip down into the pockets of my jeans; my ass wanted to clench at the feeling of her hands so close. I leaned down, letting her hot breaths roll across my skin, loving the soft tingle they left in their wake, and savoring the smell of the mint gum she always chewed, filling my nose as I pried my tense hands from the bar, careful not to move my body as I slid them out of her sight and around my back.

  “Wolf!” Anna gasped, as I grasped her wrists and snapped them above her head.

  “Shit!” she hissed, trying to pull them loose and failing. “Let me go!”

  I thought about it. “No.”

  “I. Said. Let. Go,” Anna growled back, baring her white teeth. Her canines were sharper than the native girl’s in my bed this morning, and I wondered if she’d bite me if I tried to fill her talkative mouth. The risk only made it that much more tempting.

  “You let go first,” I replied, pulling her wrist in front of my mouth, savoring the way her eyes widened as I let my rough lips catch her baby-soft, fragile wrist. My mouth watered at the taste of her as my teeth brushed the pureness I fought not to bite. Her fingers tightened around my wallet, and I could see the rebellion flash with blue fire in her eyes.

  Her hips bucked against me, but it was weak; it was a false attempt of trying to get free, and I knew it. So, when her leg swung up past my knees, I clamped my thighs closed, catching her boot before it hit my balls. “Not this time,” I growled.

  She went to snap something back at me, but I surged my body forward, my weight easily pinning her pelvis against the bar and pushing her torso over the top of it. Her breasts flattened at the shift of gravity, as every girl’s did, but unlike other girls’, Anna’s remained temptingly perky. Her low-cut top was my conspirator, revealing the pink, blushed areola that I desired. My mouth swelled with the need to taste them, my teeth aching for the contact, but I held back, shifting my gaze to meet hers.

  The heat in her glare was genuine this time as she watched me with caution, still as an awaiting huntress, waiting for my move.

  I captured her tiny hands with just one of mine, keeping my single grip tight as my knuckles knocked against the wood. I let my other hand wander freely, sliding down the length of her skin. The slight blue of her veins in her arm was presented to me under the surface of her pale skin as my fingers trailed them like a map down toward her heart. By the time I reached her shoulder, my concept of time and surroundings vanished as I fell into a delirium, telling me I had all the time in the world to explore her. I let my trail rise higher, my eyes mesmerized as I followed her collarbone up to the nape of her neck, letting all my fingers feel the fever warmth of the blushed skin there. I was captivated by the faint thrum of her pulse under my touch. Her sudden swallow against my palm sent my eyes lunging up to hers, anchored the second her blue, dilated eyes locked onto mine. Despite the fact that if I just squeezed just a little tighter, I could steal her breath from her, and with it, her life, she didn’t look frightened or concerned. Instead, her eyes were fille
d with lust and tension, never blinking once.

  Our eyes were glued to each other, unable to look away. Both of us wrapped up in my illusion of timelessness, as I reveled in the feeling of her helpless beneath me. Until the soft sound of glass dragging across wood had reality crashing back on top of me; and the realization that she had been too quiet.

  I only had a second to see that twitch in her smile and feel the emptiness of my other hand before she swung.

  Oh, no.

  I didn’t have time to move out of the way as the whiskey bottle came crashing down on my head.

  I cried out in shock, my hands automatically lunging up to my head as the pain splintered over my skull before I could even think of the consequences.

  Free of my weight and hands, Anna used it against me, her foot pulling loose from my thighs and her heel coming down hard on the back of my knee. It caved and my body staggered to the side as she jumped up from the bar. Her heels clacked against the wood floor like the crack of fire as she spun and fled as fast as she could across the room, out the door, and into the car lot before I could even think to reach for her.

  “Fuck,” I hissed, trying to shake the faint ring in my ears. I felt liquid run down my neck and reached to touch it. It wasn’t blood, thank fuck, but it was the expensive whiskey she’d managed to get her sticky fingers around.

  “She doesn’t hold back.” Lamb’s voice replaced the fading ring in my ears, but its hint of amusement grated on my nerves just the same.

  “Bitch could have killed me,” I growled, my boots crunching on the glass fragments as I sat on the stool. I immediately noticed the direct contact of my ass on the seat and felt my anger spike. “Fuck. She still has my wallet,” I snapped, shoving myself out of my chair before collapsing straight back in it as my head throbbed in anguish.