Blood Demon (Demon Assassin Series Book 1)

by A C Wilds

  Spiritus are angels—a clan of beings I’ve never seen before. Rumor has it they created the worlds. Once the first angel fell, they fled to this realm… never to be seen again.

  “Why?” I whisper. It’s the only question I can think to ask.

  “To wipe out the demons and gain control of the Demon Realm. It’s far more vast than what we have here, and the magic resources available there are immense. It would allow Rahna to rule absolute. Even the other covens wouldn’t be able to stop her.”

  Evidently, disbelief must mar my expression because he gestures for me to step closer. It goes against my instincts to obey, but the magic is a powerful beacon. It calls to me like nothing I’ve felt before.

  Approaching on unsteady feet, I reach out and place my hand on the globe. The light swirls up my arms, sigils lighting up underneath my skin in its path. They match the ones etched into the glass.

  Awestruck and slightly terrified, I rock back on my heels. The glow dims, but the sigils remain. They continue to etch intersecting patterns into every inch of my skin until they’ve covered the entirety of my body. With what almost feels like a hum, I feel something inside of me activate, like a switch being flipped on.

  “I did not expect that, little witch. It seems like you are quite the puzzle piece.”

  The demon’s voice cuts through the haze, bringing me back to the present. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” I murmur.

  “We do,” a female calls from the clearing. Marilla steps out, blade in her hands. Three other witches accompany her, all ones I trained.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, but I already know. Torque hasn’t killed me yet, so Rahna sent Marilla to do it. Why wouldn’t she send Saundra?

  “You have been accused and caught consorting with demons. You failed your mission, and your death warrant has been signed. Anima, you will die here tonight.”

  She recites this with no remorse or doubt. To her, all the years and memories we share do not matter. Her competitive nature has only ever been covering up the ugly truth—her jealousy.

  I have nothing to prove my innocence. From their point of view, it must look like I’m guilty of the crimes I’m being accused of. I’m cozied up with the princep of the Blood Demons instead of in a fight to the death. Except now, I no longer completely believe he is as evil as they claim.

  “Marilla, you don’t have to do this. Let me explain, please. There is another side to this war that you aren’t even aware of. If you would take a second to listen…”

  As I try to reason with her, I can already tell from her stance it’s no use. Marilla is going to be the one to die today, but I’m not going to be the one to do it.

  “Can you at least make it quick? I don’t want them to suffer.”

  Gaze steady, I eye the demon at my feet, feeling a bond forming between us. It’s one forged in death. I’ve already come too far to give up now, and my only way out will be by finding the truth.

  “As you wish, little witch.”

  11

  Anima

  “Where do we go from here?” I ask, eyes on the bodies of the witches at his feet. The loss I should feel isn’t there. Instead, there’s only a hollow hole in my chest where my beliefs used to be.

  “We go to the Demon Realm,” Torque says, tucking the orb into his satchel. He rises and faces me, waiting for a response.

  “Are you insane? I can’t go to the Demon Realm. I’ll be killed or, worse, used as a broodmare for some dark-arts ritual.”

  “We’ll both probably end up dying, but we can’t do this alone. We need Nox and, so we have to take the chance.”

  I bark out an incredulous laugh because if ever a situation called for it, it would be this one. “There is a lot of ‘we’ in that statement, Torque. I didn’t ask for this. You were a job, a task I failed to complete, and now my entire world is over. All the years of hard work and loyalty I gave to Tenebris are gone, and for what—a glass orb and nice pecs?”

  Frustrated, I stalk off into the woods, not caring about the direction. I have to put distance between us, so I can figure out what to do next. Not only had I gone against coven law, but I had also allowed a Blood Demon to murder my coven mates.

  As he’d frozen their blood, starving their bodies of oxygen, I’d done nothing. They’d known I’d been helping a demon, and I’d chosen to have them killed rather than have to face what would become of me.

  Not only am I a coward, but I’m also a soulless creature. The demons tipped life’s scale when they came here. The coven taught me about balance. Good and evil needs a force—an arsenal of weapons—to keep it in check. Tenebris is that force. I’m one of those weapons—well, I was until I threw it all away.

  “Anima.” My name sounds like a plea on his lips. His essence shouldn’t feel this good. The way it surrounds me, coating me like a balm while promising impossible things, shouldn’t feel so right.

  “There’s nothing left. I’m a disgrace to my coven, and what you’re suggesting is impossible. The two demon kings uniting for a common cause? Tell me, Torque, when was the last time in your millennia of existence has that ever happened?”

  He is impossibly close to me now, having caught up. When he lifts a hand as if to grab me, I back away, drawing my blade. Death might be a welcome relief at this point.

  Lips turning down in disappointment at my obvious need for self-defense, he still acquiesces, holding his palm up as he retreats a few small steps. “This is too big to leave to chance. I may be a demon, but I am not soulless. My people and yours will be slaughtered. Once the Holy Magic is released, the wielder can create anything he or she wants. Think on that for a moment, Anima—what does Rahna truly desire?”

  A vortex of information floods my mind. My life hasn’t been easy, but my basic needs have always been met. There were happy times, but I’ve never genuinely gotten to know my priestess. A bond had never formed between us. I was her assassin, used to execute her will. She never shared with me.

  “I don’t know,” I whisper. My belief in Rahna and the coven had always been absolute. She’d never failed me before. But a tiny seed of doubt had been sown—put there by the one enemy I’d been taught to kill.

  My gaze wanders to his, but all I can see is sympathy. “It’s hard to see the truth in someone, especially a person you’ve been taught to idolize. I made that mistake once, too. I never will again.”

  Being with a Blood Demon in the middle of a forest with the bodies of my coven mates only yards away is too much. I need to breathe and think. My next steps could cost me my life.

  “I have to go.” Brushing past him, heart racing, I sprint toward the entrance of the park.

  Torque

  Frustrated, I stare at the little witch’s retreating backside. I have to physically hold myself back from chasing after her to protect her from what’s coming, but she wouldn’t appreciate it. As much as it pains me, I have to let her come to me.

  The newly activated sigils on her admittedly luscious body indicate the Tenebris witch is more than what she first seemed. My little witch isn’t just an assassin—nope. She’s able to perform demon magic, and she can answer the call of Holy Magic. She’s what dreams—or maybe nightmares—are made from.

  Her aura pulses with so much barely contained power that it’s hard to understand how no one has noticed. Apparently, Rahna has been one step ahead of me this entire time. Sending Anima to kill me was the biggest risk Rahna has taken. Now that I know who Anima is, she has become even more important to me.

  Tightening the satchel against my body, I teleport to the Hallowed Grounds clubhouse. My office is quiet, but there’s a commotion downstairs. It sounds like a party in full swing. Normally, I indulge in every perk that comes along with the title of president. Tonight, though, I can’t get a certain dark witch out of my mind, so none of those seem even a bit enticing.

  A knock sounds on my door just as I lock the safe after securing the orb inside. “Come in,” I shout, taking a seat behind
my desk.

  Caymn enters, nervousness clear in his expression. “Pres.”

  “What happened?”

  “There was an attack, an ambush. Ten of our demons were killed.”

  I stand so fast that my chair crashes into the wall. Striding around my desk, I stalk out the door and down into the bar. Pure chaos greets me.

  Broken chairs and beer bottles litter the floor. Blood splatters the walls, floor, furniture, and patrons. In the corner, Mammon is in a crumpled heap. I rush to him, then drop to my knees. Frantically, I shift him to try to see if he’s breathing. He isn’t. When I place my ear to his chest to listen for a heartbeat, I barely make out a faint one.

  “Someone, grab blood,” I shout. I wait for the room to spin into action, but no one moves. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Get the emergency blood bags right fucking now!”

  “We already did that, boss. His body is rejecting them. We called Tara, but I don’t know if she’ll get here in time.”

  “What do you mean by rejecting them? How is that possible?” I ask, examining Mammon again. His vampire and blood familiar Tara should be able to wake him. They share blood, which makes their bond a powerful remedy.

  “The witches did this. They came in a pack of seven. Their methods were different this time. They didn’t fight with weapons. It was all magic… and not normal black magic, either. Somehow, its core had changed. It felt lighter. Less dark. They were looking for you and another witch. Mammon told them to fuck off.”

  Sit back on my heels, I run my finger through my hair. If Tara can’t get him to accept blood, Mammon will die. I reach out with my powers, poking at Mammon’s life-force, but it’s like I’m blocked. How do I help you, old friend?

  I recall the sigils and how they lit up when Anima touched the Holy Magic. What if she could use it to bring him back? I have to find her.

  Hopefully, she doesn’t hate me so much that she won’t even try to save Mammon.

  12

  Anima

  I slip through the open window, then land feet-first on the soft carpet. The moonlight shines brightly enough for me to navigate through the apartment. After I make my way to the bedroom, I slowly push the door open.

  “Shel, Shelley. Wake up,” I whisper, gently shaking her shoulder. When she springs up, she has a gun pointed at my face.

  “What the fuck, Ani? I could have killed you,” she screams, thumbing the safety lever on before replacing the gun and rising from the bed.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t ring the bell. Some shit went down tonight. I need a place to crash for a few hours before I think about what to do next.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.” Her gaze runs over me, probably searching for wounds, but the only ones are on the inside. Those aren’t visible.

  “It isn’t. It’s actually all fucked up.” Blowing out a breath, I collapse in the reading chair by the window. She stretches to turn on the light, but I wave her off. “We need to stay in the dark. I don’t want them knowing I’m here.”

  “Holy shit, Ani. What did you do?” she asks, falling back onto the bed.

  “I defied a direct order. Didn’t kill my mark, and now there’s a death warrant taken out on me. And I may or may not be a demon.” I don’t know how to explain the sigils to her, so I leave that part out.

  “Whoa, that’s way worse than what I thought you were going to say.”

  Laying my head back, I try to think about what my next move should be. I need a place to sleep, but, beyond that, I have no idea what to do. Waltzing into the Demon Realm is a suicide mission, but wasn’t everything I’ve done for the past week?

  Rahna either didn’t want me to live, or she thought I’d be the only one with enough power to take Torque out, which means she knows what I am.

  “Do you need anything? I can make a sandwich while you blend in with the dark.” Snickering at her joke, she gets up to go to the windows. She draws all the curtains before turning on a small table lamp.

  “Yeah, that would be great. Mind if I have a shower and a change of clothes? I want to get some of this gunk off my leathers before I leave.”

  “Top dresser drawer. Fresh towels are in the bathroom cabinet. I’ll make some tea to go along with the sandwich. When you’re done, come out into the kitchen.”

  After she leaves, I rise, head to the dresser, and grab pajama pants and a t-shirt that says, “Not today, Jesus”. It has a picture of what I assume is Satan underneath it.

  I chuckle as I turn on the water in the shower. The steam quickly fills the small space as I undress. I want to wash the night away. I’d like to scrub the memory of Torque Sanguis away, but a part of me knows I haven’t seen the last of him.

  I’m in the kitchen ten minutes later with a towel wrapped around my head, eating a ham-and-cheese sandwich. My monkey oolong tea is seeping in a cup next to me, the sweet honey scent instantaneously relaxing me.

  “What are you going to do?” Shelley asks, joining me with her own cup of tea at the round breakfast table.

  “He wants me to go to the Demon Realm.” I chew my food, ponder how stupid that sounds.

  “You mean the princep? The freaking president of Hallowed Grounds? A Blood Demon? He wants you to go into the Demon Realm? To do what exactly?”

  Her voice pitches a bit into slightly hysterical at the end, and I can understand why. This entire situation is nuts. No sane person would even consider it, but no one ever said I was normal.

  “I think I have to do it.”

  “You’ve lost it! This isn’t like visiting someone’s home in another country. You’ll be traveling to a different dimension into a place notorious for violence. They will destroy you.”

  “It’s technically another realm, not dimension, but that’s not important right now.” Her scowl has me counting my lucky stars that her gun isn’t in easy reach.

  “And how do we actually know what goes on there? That there’s violence at all? It’s not like people are taking pictures and reporting the daily conditions. We only know what they want us to.”

  Throwing her hand up in clear agitation, she rises and stomps over to the pot of hot water. She pours more into her cup even though it’s already nearly full.

  “The fact you’re even entertaining this asinine idea gives me a migraine. You’ll die, Ani. And I don’t want you to die.”

  Her anger morphs into sadness. Shelley has only been my friend for a short while, but she cares about me more than anyone else in my life ever has.

  “I’m not going to die. What he told me, Shelley—it’s bad. Holy magic—a power the Pure Gods used to create the worlds—is back. He has some of it, and so does Rahna. He thinks she’s going to use hers to get rid of all the demons inhabiting the Mortal and Demon Realms, then re-create a world of her own.”

  Shelley returns to the table, plops in her seat, and stares straight into my eyes. “We can’t let her control that much power, Ani. Demons first, but who will be next? Humans? She has to be stopped.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Hence the struggle of going on this little vacation. Torque thinks if we get Nox on board, we can overpower her and restore the balance. But I’m not sure it will be enough.”

  “It has to be. Otherwise, you may not have a home to come back to.”

  13

  Torque

  The little witch is at the cleaner’s house. I followed Anima’s scent from the park to this apartment. It’s not something every demon can do, but I’ve had a lot of experience tracking prey. I’m extremely good at it.

  A light flickers on, curtains blocking my view as I watch from the street below, hidden from sight by a tree. No sounds come from the apartment, which means the little witch probably cast a muffling spell before she entered. Smart.

  It’s a full three hours before she emerges, freshly washed and dressed. A lovely lavender scent wafts from across the street, probably from whatever soap or body wash she used. I inhale deeply, enjoying the fragrance. Her dark hair is tied up tight in a bun, and a sco
wl marks her face. She can sense me, but she doesn’t understand it yet.

  “Little witch,” I whisper from a good distance behind her.

  She doesn’t jump. Instead, she spins around and narrows her eyes. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”

  “It’s not important. I need a favor. I’d be in your debt.”

  This isn’t something I offer anyone. Being in the debt of a princep is like winning the lottery. It can open unimaginable doors.

  “No. You’ve already brought trouble to my life. I don’t need to deepen the hole.”

  She strides down the street. Keeping to the shadows, she appears ready for anything. Her gracefulness is addicting. Watching her hips sway has my body reacting. It’s a struggle not to throw her against the nearest wall and let my instincts take over.

  “The witches attacked Hallowed Grounds. One of my men was badly hurt. I need you to heal him.”

  She stops mid-stride, pivoting toward me. “Heal him? You do know I’m a dark witch, right? I don’t heal—I kill. It’s the reason I’m an excellent assassin.”

  “The glyphs that illuminated in the park are the key to shaping the Holy Magic.” I’ve laid all my cards out before her. Without her, I can’t access the magic, except to make it glow. She’s the only one who can save us from Rahna.

  She opens her mouth, but then snaps it shut. I’ve rendered the little witch speechless. Whirling around, she hurries away from me. I’ve overwhelmed her—told her too much, too soon.

  “You can’t expect me to believe everything you say, Torque. Some things require proof.” She makes a right at the corner, slipping into an alley too dark for the world to see.

  “I know I haven’t given you any reason to trust me, but I need you. Mammon is dying a true death, and he must be saved.”

  “Mammon is a brute and an asshole. He’s done terrible things. I’m not sure he would deserve to be healed even if I am capable of doing what you say I am.