The Devil's Soldier: A Paranormal Vampire Romance Novel (Devil Series Book 3)

by Raven Steele

  “I’ll walk you out,” Henry said and left the room.

  Alone in the conference room, Lucien was still stunned he had heard Eve’s voice. It didn’t matter what Henry and Charlie thought. It was her. And in that single word Eve had spoken, Lucien, a fire within him had been rekindled. It wasn’t just about killing Boaz anymore; this was so much more than revenge. This was about having the chance to be with Eve again, but if that was going to happen, he needed to be as powerful as possible to protect her from Boaz.

  When Lucien had failed to find Eve’s body in the ocean after she had jumped from the cliffs, Lucien had surrendered himself to the sea. He was trapped down there for days, stuck in a never-ending dream state with an imaginary Eve on an island she had called Eden.

  Eventually, Charlie found him and brought him back to the Deific. After Lucien finally woke, Henry was there to explain the connection between all their families: the Whitmores, Segurs, Archers and Bradys.

  Over a hundred years before Lucien was born, Boaz was on a path leading to world domination. He had planted many powerful supernaturals within royal families all across Europe to manipulate those in power. In 1618, Boaz officially put his plan into motion by throwing two royal officers from a window, which started what historians called the Thirty Years War. Thousands upon thousands of people died.

  It was rumored at the time that a new race of people were in control, those who possessed unnatural strengths and magical abilities. Humans were terrified and so were many supernaturals. They didn’t want humans to know their secrets, and this was the direction in which Boaz was taking Europe.

  To put an end to all of the wars, four of the world’s most powerful witches joined together. There was Henry Archer, Mary Whitmore, Fredrick Segur and William Brady. They knew Boaz was a vampire, but they couldn’t figure out how he was able to use magic, unless he had been a witch before he was turned, but such a thing was forbidden at the time.

  To stop Boaz, the four witches used their combined magic to put a powerful binding spell on an ancient necklace. After tricking Boaz into meeting with them under the guise of joining forces, they secured the necklace around his neck and began the process of transferring all of his magical abilities into the glass pendant. It was a long process that had lasted years.

  This entire time, Boaz was their prisoner, trapped in a cage in the basement of Henry’s estate. After a while, two of the witches, Mary Whitmore and Fredrick Segur, began to visit him. At first it was because they wanted to know how he was able to use magic, but it didn’t take long for Boaz to manipulate them by promising them more power than they could ever imagine. He even promised to teach them the ancient magical language that existed before man was on the earth.

  This temptation proved too great and they released Boaz, but by this time, all of his powers had been trapped within the necklace. The only power he still possessed was the ability to take other witches’ magic. And so this became his quest for creating the world’s most powerful witch, one he could drain of powers for his own gain.

  The Whitmores and Segurs tried for centuries to give Boaz what he wanted but most ended in failure. That is, until Sable Whitmore and Erik Segur married at Boaz’s command and birthed Eve.

  As for the other two families, the Bradys and the Archers, they had gone into hiding as soon as Boaz escaped. For generations, Boaz hunted their offspring, killing whomever he found.

  He would’ve slaughtered Aiden, but even as a human, Aiden already had so much darkness inside him that Boaz knew he’d make a great vampire. Aiden then convinced him to spare his brother Lucien as long as Aiden also turned him into a vampire.

  Before them, the only other person Boaz had spared was Henry. Boaz turned Henry into a vampire with the intention of making him suffer for all time locked up in an underground prison just like Henry had done to him. But Henry, in an elaborate scheme, faked his death. Ever since then, Henry had spent his time finding ways to combat Boaz without giving up his identity. His most important accomplishment was creating the Deific. This one organization had saved thousands of lives, both human and supernatural. One day, however, when the time was right, Henry would reveal himself to Boaz.

  As a vampire, it had taken a long time for Lucien to believe he could use magic, but once he did and looked back on his life, he realized he had been using magic all along. Like the times he could sense when evil had grown too powerful, or when he was somehow able to see his opponents’ attacks before they came. This made him think of his brother, Aiden. Had he been able to use magic too?

  His phone buzzed. Lucien picked it up from off the table. A text from Charlie read: I almost forgot about this. Here’s Samira’s number.

  Lucien stared down at it, a knot forming in his throat. He didn’t want to make this call, but he wanted to find Boaz more. He entered the numbers into his phone and hit send.

  Samira answered on the first ring. “Yes?”

  He cleared his throat and shifted his weight on the chair. “Hello, Samira.”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s—” he paused. Damn he felt stupid. They’d been close once. He probably should’ve kept in touch. Maybe even a call decade would’ve spared him this embarrassment.

  “Speak,” she ordered. He remembered that demanding tone.

  “It’s Lucien.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Lucien from Ireland?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “It’s been a long time. How did you get this number?”

  “Charlie from the Deific gave it to me.”

  “Are you working with them?” There was a noticeable change to her voice. Lighter, somehow.

  “As much as you are working with the Ames de la Terra.”

  She chuckled at this. “Who would’ve thought, right?”

  “Not me and certainly not you.”

  “You speak truth. I’m glad we both found different paths. What can I do for you?”

  “I'm trying to find a vampire,” he answered. “I hoped you might be able to help.”

  “What city are you in? And what is the name of the vampire?”

  “I’m in Wildemoor. Vamps name is Boaz.”

  Another long pause. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear that name again.”

  Lucien noted distinct fear in her voice. “Where can I find him?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I did, but he’s been off our radar for over a decade. However, if he’s surfaced again, then go to Eclipse, a club there in Wildemoor. Someone will know something.”

  Lucien’s heart skipped a beat. Finally he had a lead. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  “It’s good hearing from you, Lucien.”

  “You too.” And he meant it.

  “Now that we’re both fighting on the same side, I’m sure our paths will cross soon.”

  “I’m sure they will.”

  “Stay safe,” she said. “Boaz is extremely dangerous. And say hello to Charlie for me.”

  “I will.”

  The line ended. Short and sweet. That’s how conversations had always gone with Samira. Well, maybe not the sweet part.

  Henry walked into the room just then and closed the door behind him. “Ready?”

  “Just tell me what to do.” Now that he had a better chance at finding Boaz, he wanted to push himself as hard as he could.

  Henry sat opposite him. “As I’ve explained before, Boaz is a battery who gets his charge from witches. He takes it so subtly that most of the time witches have no idea he’s doing it. That power he takes gets stored up within him. The only way we are going to defeat him is if we get him to use those reserves, while also preventing him from taking our magic.”

  “And then we can kill him.”

  “And then we can kill him,” Henry agreed.

  Lucien rubbed his chin, thinking of his brother again. “Could Aiden use magic?”

  “Not. He was just a regular vampire.”

  “But that doesn’t make sense. If
I can use magic, then he should’ve been able to, as well. We share the same mother, a Brady.”

  Henry shifted positions, lifting one knee and crossing it over the other. “Aiden wasn’t your mother’s child. He was your father’s bastard son.”

  Lucien lowered his hand, stunned, but not too surprised. “That explains a lot.”

  Henry leaned forward on the table. “I want you to get comfortable. What I’m about to do will probably hurt. Do your best not to let me in.”

  Lucien leaned back and folded his arms to his chest. He thought he was prepared, thought he could ward off Henry for at least a minute, but then the pain came. It was sudden, sharp and bitter cold, as if some invisible entity had stabbed an ice pick into his chest. He gasped for air. It was followed by an intense pressure in his head so strong, he thought it might explode. He ground his jaw together and clutched at his head.

  The sensation stopped abruptly. Lucien fell forward, slumping onto the table.

  “That’s a big attack,” Henry said. “They are much easier to ward off because you can recognize the assault.”

  “That was supposed to be easy?” He swatted at a slight tickling on his neck, as if a spider were crawling there.

  “It’s the small ones you have to watch out for.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Do you realize I’m taking your magic right now?”

  He sat up straight. “You are?”

  “Focus. You will notice the intrusion if you know to look for it.”

  Lucien concentrated on his body. The slight tickling was still on his neck. “I think I feel it.”

  “So stop me.”

  “How?”

  “Push back.”

  Lucien stared him in the eyes, trying to get his mind to close off, but he couldn’t tell what the hell he was doing. He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and breathed heavily. “Why am I getting so tired?”

  “Because now I’m taking even more of your magic. Soon it’s going to hurt.”

  Lucien strained hard, focusing on the tingling sensation on his neck, but a pain, similar to how he imagined it would feel to have a hot sword poke through his lungs, set his chest on fire. He growled a terrible cry, a sound he didn’t know he could make.

  Henry slammed his fist on the table. “Fight me!”

  Lucien mentally pushed back, but the pain proved too great. He clawed at his chest and fell off the chair to the ground. The connection dropped, giving him instant relief. He sucked in great gulps of air.

  “This is going to take longer than I thought,” Henry said. “Maybe we should try again in a few hours.”

  Lucien dragged himself back into the chair, his hands and legs shaking. “Again,” he whispered in between breaths. “And don’t stop. No matter what.”

  He couldn’t stop, not if Eve was out there. He had to get to her before Boaz did.

  Chapter 6

  Eve tightened her grip around the steering wheel. The car’s headlights lit up the winding road as she drove through a remote part of northern New Hampshire. It was pitch black even though the sun had set less than an hour ago. The New Hampshire forests had a way of making everything seem darker than they really were.

  The car’s light was the only thing soothing her nerves right now. Never in a million years had she planned to return to her grandfather’s house, but she needed information, and her aunt, Anne Segur, was probably the only one who could give it to her.

  It had been difficult to leave Dmitri and the sanctuary of the monastery. It was peaceful there, and she was safe. Besides, she’d never done anything like this before—actively seek out someone who wanted her dead. But she didn’t have a choice. With Boaz still out there, the lives of everyone she cared about were at risk, especially Lucien’s.

  Eve reached over and took Dmitri’s book in her hand. A priceless gift. She’d read it cover to cover at least four times in the last few days. Ellenore had been an amazing person and a powerful witch. She cared greatly for everyone and had actively sought out supernaturals in hopes of helping them learn a different way.

  There were also some powerful spells in the book; many were well past Eve’s ability, but she would practice them all. She would need every bit of help to defeat Boaz.

  The headlights’ beam flashed on a closed iron gate just up ahead. Eve slowed the car and parked in front, the gentle hum of the engine idling low. She didn’t remember the long lane to her grandfather’s house having gates before.

  Then again, she chose not to remember much, seeing how last time she was here years ago, she had been kidnapped by her grandfather and forced to fight her twin cousins. That had been a huge turning point for her, and not a good one. She had fought and won, thereby winning her grandfather’s inheritance, but it had come with a price: her cousin Harriet’s life.

  Eve stepped out of the car and approached the gates. It felt darker here, much darker than it had been when she left the airport two hours ago. She tried hard not to shiver but couldn’t help it.

  She glanced to each side of the blocked entrance but couldn’t find a box where she could ring the house. She inspected the gates. They weren’t automatic, and she couldn’t find a lock. With both hands, she pushed on the metal bars. They gave a great groan and opened wide.

  Eve ducked back into the car and drove slowly down the long private lane to the house. Trees and bushes on both sides of the road had grown over the pavement. The one thing she did remember were the two lion statues in front of the house, which were in terrible condition. One of them had been smashed into tiny pieces.

  What happened here?

  Eve parked the car near the sidewalk leading to the front door. After a deep breath, she left the vehicle and took her time walking up the steps. For only nine o’clock at night, the house was dark and silent. She would have called had there been a telephone number, but she had found none listed online.

  When no one answered her knock, Eve turned the knob and creaked open the door.

  “Hello?” she called, her pulse racing. “This is Eve. I’ve come to visit. Anyone home?”

  A heavy silence answered back.

  Eve stepped inside and flipped on the lights but nothing happened. The power was off. And apparently the heat too. She shivered and removed her cell phone from her pocket and turned on the flashlight app. It wasn’t a lot of light, but it would have to do.

  The great living room was covered in dust, and much of the furniture was missing. She might have thought the place had been abandoned, but there were bare footprints pressed into the dust on the floor.

  “Hello?”

  Eve moved farther into the home, peering inside every room. Other than some furniture covered with white sheets, the rooms were mostly empty and undisturbed. The kitchen, however, had been used. Recently. Soup steamed from a pot on a gas stove. The only sign of warmth in the huge home.

  Eve followed a worn trail through the dust on the floor to a room at the end of a long hall, her pulse racing. Even though she was freezing, sweat pooled under her arms and dotted her brow. She stopped in front of an antiqued door and inhaled deeply, apprehensive for what lay beyond. Quietly, she pushed it open.

  A fireplace roared in a wide stone hearth on the other side of the room, yet Eve could still see her breath. A four-poster bed lay pressed against the wall, and in a single Queen Anne chair near the fireplace was her aunt, leaning toward the roaring flames and holding a glass of wine. Thin and straight, her blond hair hung limply to her bony shoulders, and the long satin nightgown she wore made her look frighteningly thin.

  “Anne?” Eve asked and took a tentative step toward her.

  Anne didn’t look back, but she did swirl the red wine within her glass. “You’re late.”

  “Am I?”

  “You’ve been ‘dead’ for almost three months. You should’ve come here sooner.”

  “How did you know I wasn’t dead?”

  “Segurs don’t die unless we want to.” Her words were bitte
r and chilled the room even more, if that were possible.

  “How did you know I was coming?”

  “Because of Boaz.”

  Eve’s heart skipped a beat.

  “He thinks, although it’s a small thought, that you could still be alive,” Anne said, slouching back into the seat. “He came here a week ago.”

  Eve’s legs weakened. That was about the same time she had mentally called out to Lucien. Had Lucien actually heard her cry? No doubt if he had, he would’ve had a major reaction. A witch monitoring him could easily have picked up on those emotions.

  “He killed Helen.” Anne’s voice didn’t crack or waver.

  Helen had been Anne’s surviving twin daughter. Without her sister, Helen had withdrawn from the world and barely spoke or ate. Eve might as well have killed both of them.

  Eve stumbled to the edge of the bed and sat down. “Why would he do that?”

  “He’s desperate for magic. He took every last drop she had. Not like Helen cared, though. She became a vegetable ever since you killed Harriet.”

  Eve couldn’t swallow the lump in her throat. It didn’t help that bile was trying to come up around it. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be weak,” Anne snapped. “It’s disgusting.”

  For the first time, Anne looked at her. Cheekbones protruded from her face, a sharp contrast to her sunken eyes.

  Eve had forgotten how most supernaturals, especially those in her family, hated any kind of emotions, particularly those of compassion and love. “Aren’t you angry?”

  Anne shrugged, spilling wine over the rim of her glass. “Death comes to us all.”

  “What did Boaz want?” Eve asked. The sooner she got out of here the better. This home was a black hole created by the ghosts who had inhabited it. No wonder it was so cold. Soon Anne would become one of them, too.

  “He doesn’t think you are dead. He thought I might know something.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I knew nothing to tell.” Anne glanced back at her again. “It would’ve been better if you had died.”

  “Why’s that?”