by Britt Bury
The demon got a jab in and sliced Kelvin’s thigh, and he bellowed through gritted teeth. The sight of him hurt and in pain nearly undid her. A fury raged inside Izel and she set her sights on the demon.
He dares to hurt my Pookah.
She would make sure he would live to regret that.
Suddenly Izel felt a spark dance along her skin—at the same moment the demon hissed in pain. But in pain from what? Neither of them had landed a strike against the Hell beast. There was no way she could have projected pain on the demon, right? She was a mortal, after all. Powerless.
Undeterred, she snuck along the brush, staying low and creeping closer. Grabbing a thick, pointed stick from the ground, she leveled herself against a large tree trunk. Just need one clear shot.
The demon was charging hard at Kelvin, his gray back twisting and moving right in front of her. Kelvin slashed across the beast’s chest, but even as his black blood poured out the demon was relentless. The demon kicked at Kelvin’s wounded leg and he stumbled. In those precious seconds, he lost his footing.
Izel gripped the stick. With no more thought than to help Kelvin, she jumped out from behind the tree and jammed the branch through the demon’s back. He screamed in pain and turned, lashing claws at her.
At the sound of her scream, Kelvin roared in fury. He lunged at the demon, slamming his dagger into the beast’s black heart. Its yellow eyes grew wide with disbelief before Kelvin sliced the head from its body.
Wasting no time, he ran to Izel and knelt next to her. She was lying on her side, writhing and screaming in pain. “Izel! Izel, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He choked on a breath as he turned her over. She was clutching her bicep, a deeply rooted black claw stuck in her muscle. Just a trickle of her crimson blood escaped the wound.
“God, woman, what were you thinking?” he whispered while yanking free his belt. Once he pulled the large talon from her, there would be a sizable hole.
Kelvin gritted his teeth and wrapped his leather belt around her arm, just above the wound, praying the disgusting Hell-dweller hadn’t hit a major artery.
“He hurt you.” Her teary green eyes gazed at him with such affection her skin seemed illuminated by it. And then, just as before, the shimmering luster diminished quickly. Had Kelvin imagined it again? Before he could question his thoughts, she tried to move and grimaced with pain. His chest tightened as he palmed her cheek. She had risked herself to help him. Now, here she was, lying on the wet ground, wounded and in pain.
He removed his shirt and tore it into long strips. “Look at me, female.” He straightened her arm, resting it on the ground. Gently putting his knee on top of her inner elbow, he pressed it straight and gripped the belt above her wound. Demon claws were serrated, and unfortunately much harder to remove than they were to put in.
“I need ta take this claw out of you.” Her glossy eyes went wide with fear. “If I donna get this out, it will start to poison you.” Her delicate throat struggled to swallow and Kelvin hated what was about to happen.
“I’m gonna pull it out quick, okay?” She trembled but nodded her head. “Once I get it out, I’m going ta tighten the belt here”—he glanced to the leather circling her upper bicep—“so as ta help stop the bleeding.”
Her brows were drawn and she bit her bottom lip. “As soon as I get the bleeding to cease, I will wrap your arm and get you the hell out of here, all right?” She gave a teary smile and nodded. God, how could he do this? Kelvin had had a demon claw removed once and knew how excruciating the process was. And he was an immortal man, used to taking hits.
He looked down at this fragile woman, about to endure more pain at his hands. But it had to be done.
Isn’t that your excuse for everything?
He wanted to curse his inner instinct. It had always been a whisper in the back of his mind, but lately it was getting louder.
“Izel.” He adjusted his knee over her arm and pulled the belt just tight enough to rest against her skin. “No matter what, you have ta keep your eyes open. Do you understand me?” She stared at him: such agony, such trust. He was trying his damndest to keep it together. Rage coursed through him.
“Here we go.” Gripping the belt end in one hand, he grasped the claw in the other. Deep breath. Her eyes squeezed shut, tears falling down her temples and into her hair.
In one quick yank he pulled the talon free, felt her flesh tear, and heard her scream.
She arched her back, crying out, but Kelvin held her arm still beneath the pressure of his knee. The claw left a quarter-sized hole in her muscle, blood pouring freely.
“My brave girl.”
He pulled the belt tight, trying to stop the overwhelming amount of blood that was spilling from her. Her screams quieted, her eyelids began fluttering. “No. No! Izel, look at me. You keep your eyes open!” He pulled tighter, but her blood kept flowing. Kelvin pressed his other palm over the hole. Her skin was cool, but her blood was hot. He watched, helplessly feeling the warmth of her life slip from her.
“Come on, love. Look at me. Please open your eyes.” Her thick lashes lifted, and her green gaze focused on his. “That’s a good girl.”
The corners of her lips turned upward slightly before her eyes went vacant, and finally slid closed.
Chapter 14
“What the hell is this?” Ian approached his cousin Keith, a Bear Pookah, who currently stood in the foyer of the castle, trying to contain a struggling female.
Keith finally got a hold of her flailing wrists and pinned them behind her. Her back was against his chest, her arms immobile, but still she kicked and thrashed. “This is a D.P.D.”
Dark Prince Daughter.
Ian’s eyes widened. Her long black mane concealed her face as she whipped about wildly. Ian caught her scent and inhaled deeply. She didn’t smell of sulfur and rot as he’d expected; rather the woman smelled of fire and cinnamon.
Not woman. Demon. She was a demon. Not only that, but an actual spawn of Satan.
Ian moved closer, caught her legs, and instantly pinned her feet to the ground and stood atop her toes. Now, although her body was totally immobile, sandwiched between the two Pookahs, she still thrashed her head. Ian cupped her neck. “Enough, woman. Your efforts are useless.”
She snapped her face up, all that midnight hair falling away from her brow like a curtain. Ian looked down, expecting to see graying skin and putrid eyes.
His breath caught in his throat.
The demon was… stunning.
Ian stared in awe. Her fair skin was accentuated by the brightest violet eyes he’d ever seen. Her thick lashes and hair were so black, when the light caught, flecks of deep purple hues were illuminated. No black veins marred her exotic face, but to be sure, Ian yanked one of her arms from Keith’s grip and snagged up the long sleeve of her leather jacket.
“Get off of me!” she screamed. Ian paid her no mind, instead staring at the veins running at her inner wrist.
Purple. Her blood was purple. Yet her skin was no more translucent than his or any other regular immortal’s.
“Why?” he asked.
She scowled. “Why what?”
He lifted her wrist to her eyes. “Blacker the blood, blacker the soul,” he stated, and looked again at her forearm, still disbelieving what he was seeing. Purple blood vessels. “Exactly how evil are you, princess?”
She snapped her teeth. Even her lush little mouth held a violet hue. Like a ripe plum.
I could sink my teeth into that juicy bottom lip before sucking on it.
He shook his head and dropped her wrist. Where had that thought come from?
“Take her below,” Ian ordered. “Once she’s locked up, bring me the key to her cell.”
Keith nodded and ushered the now cursing demon to the dungeon.
It took Keith several minutes to restrain and finally get the demon locked away. He returned and handed Ian the key.
“Explain to me how you came upon her.”
“Ryo tipped me off
about demons in the area.”
Of course she had. Yet she had said nothing to Ian until one was inside his sodding castle.
“I scouted them out. I scented one male, two females. But when I came upon them, only the lone female was there.”
“Why are they here?”
Keith shook his head. “She didn’t say.”
No, I’m sure she wouldn’t. Judging by her viciousness and will, the female would more likely spit at Keith than speak.
“Why have demons entered our realm?”
“Perhaps they got wind of the mortal and her prophecy. But I’d wager I’m not the one you should be questioning.”
“Aye,” Ian agreed, and bounded toward the dungeon.
A few moments later he was faced with the demon. All of the demons Ian had ever seen were hideous. This creature was gorgeous. The mere way her hips moved as she strode toward the cell door was erotic. The way her violet eyes bore deeply into him, as if she was seeing through to his soul…
Wicked.
“Release me and I may let you live,” she rasped in the sexiest voice Ian had ever heard.
“Answer my questions and I may spare you torture.”
She raised a dark brow. “Torture? Foolish Pookah, I am of the under-realm.” She gripped the bars and whispered, “We like torture.”
Fire shot through his veins. He looked the creature over. Almost every inch of her was covered in jet-black leather. In the low light, he caught flashes of her creamy thighs where her boots ended and her tiny little skirt began. Her jacket was tight, hugging the curves of her trim waist and full breasts. The zipper was so low he could see a bit of her lacy bra.
He ran a hand over his mouth. His cock stood hard as steel. The damn thing felt as if it was about to rip through his jeans to get to the demon.
Demon! She’s a demon!
How easily he forgot that fact. “Why are you here and how did you come to this realm? Tell me now or I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Spank me?” She pressed her whole body against the bars. He could feel her heat. He stepped closer.
“No, demon.” He leaned in. “I’ll leave you down here to rot.”
She threw herself away from the bars in a huff. “My father is going to kill you for capturing me!”
Ian smirked. He had called her bluff. This wasn’t the first time a woman had tried to use her wiles on him. At the end of the day, he suspected this demon was not only a princess, but spoiled. Else she wouldn’t have been caught so easily.
“Kill me?” Ian looked around. “Funny, I do no’ see him anywhere. Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “That’s because he can no’ walk this realm until the Contention allows it.”
She glared.
“But you can. So I’ll ask you again. Why and how are you here?”
She jutted her chin in the air and crossed her arms over her chest. “I have my ways, and they’re none of your business.”
“Fine,” he growled, but was overwhelmed by her scent once more. “I do no’ need you anyhow.”
“Oh, no?” She looked down his body. “That thing tenting your pants just called you a liar.”
Ian snarled, “I should kill you now!”
“Then why don’t you?”
Because I’m afraid of what you might mean to me.
“Ryo!” Ian bellowed, bounding through the castle hallways.
“Trouble in paradise?” She was standing against a door frame, filing her nails.
“What is going on with the demons? Keith said there were three. He’s out looking for the other two now. Are they after the mortal? Are they on Kelvin’s trail? How did they get here?”
“Wow,” she quipped, not looking up from her pink nails. “You need to calm down. You want a Valium? I have some.”
“What I want is answers.”
“And the demon princess didn’t dish, huh?”
“How did you—never mind. The Contention is still months off. How are demons walking the realm? They have to be aided by magic somehow. The devil himself can’t even set foot here ’til the realms open.”
She nodded. “You know the saying ‘like making a deal with the devil’? Yeah? Well, ever heard the saying ‘like making a deal with Sierra Black?’ ”
Ian frowned.
“No, you don’t know that saying, because no one ever makes a deal with Sierra Black because no one ever lives to talk about it.”
“What’s your point, Ryo?”
“If Sierra wanted to come to this realm, she’d find a way. In this case, she did.”
Sierra. The demon princess’s name was Sierra.
Mine.
Shut up! Ian’s mind was obviously playing tricks on him.
“Why is she here?”
Ryo tapped the file against her chin, her eyes going vacant for a moment. “Don’t worry, it has nothing to do with the mortal; though the other demon, the male…” She inhaled sharply. “Ooh, his fate is already settled. Kelvin got to him before he could return to Hell. Isn’t that just sad? They say there’s no place like home.”
Ian rubbed his temples. “Kelvin and the mortal are secure?”
“For now.”
“Keith said there was another D.P.D. Will he find her?”
“That,” Ryo pointed her file at Ian, “is literally Keith’s problem.”
God, this female was maddening. “Are you going to tell me any more about the demon spawn in holding?”
Ryo smiled brightly. “Why would I do that? She’ll be more than eager to share with you shortly. Oh!” She looked at her wrist, as if examining a watch though she wore none. “It’s late. I must be getting back to my chambers. You know how the darkness makes me all antsy… oh, wait… is that me, or is that you?” She flicked the emery board and looked at Ian.
The witch sauntered off, leaving him with an overwhelming feeling of terror. He had stared down the strongest, scariest immortals any realm could produce and never flinched. Now, with a small female demon beneath his roof, Ian was suddenly frightened to his core.
Taking three stairs at a time, Ian wound down below the main castle and into the dungeon once more. He stopped abruptly when he heard the demon’s voice whisper softly.
“What do you mean, you won’t come for me until the realms open up during the Contention?” she snapped.
Ian made himself silent and peered around the corner. He frowned when he saw the princess talking into her… palms?
“Just get me out of here! Lana needs me. I can’t waste my time locked away in some pig’s dungeon.”
Lana? Who was Lana? And why was the princess talking to her open hands as if they were talking back?
“Daddy!” she quietly snapped. Then she rolled her eyes as if being scowled. Daddy? As in Satan? Either Ian was losing his mind or the female was, because no one else, much less the devil, was down there.
She looked at her upturned hands once more. Her violet eyes went wide as if she had just been told something terrible. “I-I can’t do that!”
Okay, this had gone on long enough. Ian bounded from around the stone wall that concealed him and snatched the female’s wrist before she could scuttle away from the bars.
“Let go!” she screamed.
“What the hell are you—”
Ian’s words were cut short when he looked at her hands. Two long gashes marred the flesh of her palms. It wasn’t the fact that her blood was purple that shocked Ian. It was that the blood had moved and congealed into words.
Inked across her open hand in violet blood was written:
Kill the Pookah…
Chapter 15
A soothing, warm breeze danced along Izel’s face. She recalled feeling cold just moments before, as she strained to open her eyes. Blinking past the fogginess, a dark figure outlined by an orange glow came into focus.
Kelvin.
“Still, lass.” His voice was soft, comforting. The backs of his fingers brushed across her cheek. “As soon as you are well, I’m gonna scold ya ’til my th
roat hurts.” He looked down at her, smiling, but the grin didn’t reach his eyes.
“Wh-why?” Her voice was scratchy and she blinked her eyes wildly, trying to gain better sight of the man kneeling before her.
“For taking on a demon. You… you had me worried, lass.”
Izel felt like she’d just been slapped in the face. The Pookah had genuine concern in his tone. He cared about her. And for goodness’ sake, she obviously cared a great deal about him. She’d taken on the scariest thing she’d ever seen with no more thought than to help Kelvin. Maybe, just maybe, they were making headway. And perhaps that vulnerability Kelvin buried was finally beginning to surface.
Or maybe I’m delusional from blood loss.
“You looked like you could use some help.” She tried to smile, but her lips felt chapped and her skin dry. Attempting any kind of facial movement made her puffy eyes hurt. Kelvin examined her, and an expression of pain and confusion came over his face. When his gaze stopped on her upper arm, she followed his stare.
“Yikes.” Izel shuddered, seeing her arm wrapped tightly in a bloody cloth, growing wetter every second. “This is bad, huh?” She tried to stay alert, to hone in on Kelvin’s face, but her eyes were fighting her, threatening to close once more. She had never felt so weak, so mortal.
“No, no, you’ll be fine.” He withdrew scraps of material from his pack and began working on her wound. She was either losing her mind or had never seen things so clearly. Because here, with this massive immortal tending to her with a terrified expression on his face, she felt treasured.
She winced when he gently lifted her arm to wrap more fabric around it. It was then she realized he was shirtless and the cotton he was using must be what was left of his shirt. “You’re going to run out of shirts if you keep tearing them up like this.”
“I thought you liked looking at my bare chest.” He glanced up from his task and winked at her. He really was glorious, and God help her, she was beginning to like his aloof ego.
