Chosen Blood: A Dark Urban Fantasy Romance (Demon Bayou Series Book 1)

by S Lawrence

  He’s right of course. Opening my mouth to apologize, he shakes his head, stopping me just as his phone rings. Looking at the screen, he pushes away from the island where he had been leaning and paces away to the doors to the balcony. Standing, I turn and follow him closely. I can just make out Dagen’s voice but not his words.

  Moments later, Evander hangs up and turns back to me. “Get ready. They are leaving for the night, and Caliel is going to cross over the barrier.” I glance outside, just noticing the darkening sky before spinning and rushing to my room.

  Standing in front of the closet, I stare at my clothes and have a teenage girl moment of hating everything I own. I want to impress her.

  “Be yourself, Torryn.” Glancing over my shoulder, I see him smirking as he leans against the door frame. Easy for him to say, he always looks like he stepped out of GQ. I, on the other hand, could have come out of Inked.

  I settle for dark wash jeans and a black t-shirt with the word ‘savage’ stamped across the chest in crimson. I can’t change who I am now. He raises an eyebrow at my choices as I shrug the shirt on over my head. Sitting on the end of my bed, I pull on my black motorcycle boots and close the buckles.

  Standing, I make my way into the bathroom and wash the grease from the noodles off my chin before grabbing my toothbrush. Minutes later, I’m striding out the door, and Evander is in the elevator holding the door.

  As they silently slide closed, we both stand at the back and he turns to me. “Know what you’re going to say?”

  I nod. I didn’t until just now but yeah, I do. “I’m going to tell her what happened to me. Not the prophecy, but just that day and how I was murdered by Trinity.” Her name is like dust on my tongue.

  He nods. “Good idea, in case she doesn’t know how horrible they are. Maybe show her the scar.”

  My hand rubs over it at his words. I woke up with it when Luc brought us back, a thick jagged scar right above my heart. We each have one wherever the sword had ripped into us. Most are smooth, but not mine; it is raised and rough and now I know why.

  Trinity had twisted the blade over and over, grinning as she stood over me. I never even put up a fight. Fucking idiot. I’m still rubbing it when the elevator dings, announcing our arrival to the lobby. Evander’s Escalade is parked in the red zone out front, and I climb into the unlocked vehicle, shaking my head at his either boldness or arrogance. I’m not sure which.

  It takes only minutes for us to stop at the corner by the house. Dagen is leaning against a lamp post, not even looking at the house, but I know he is watching it closely. Caliel is laying on a step, soaking up the last of the sunlight.

  I hate him.

  Boss looks around, his eyes narrowing. He sighs.

  “What’s up?” I ask, glancing around.

  “This is the Brown Mansion. I’ve driven by it a thousand times.” I can tell he is disgusted he hasn’t realized it before. “I finally understand why, or rather, what Avalon does. Medieval European castle on an island, modern New Orleans Roman Revival mansion; it’s brilliant really. Nothing new to stick out, just hiding in plain sight.”

  It doesn’t cloak itself—Avalon becomes whatever is in the spot it inhabits.

  Thirteen

  LILLIAN

  Where am I?

  I blink a few times, trying to get my eyes to focus as Seraphina’s perfume wraps around me. Slowly, the washer comes into focus. What the hell? Rolling to my side, I grimace as every muscle screams in protest and my head feels like it’s about to split open. I grab it with both hands and blink away the tears that have sprung to my eyes.

  “Oh, thank God.” Grace’s voice is filled with relief. “I was afraid you had done permanent damage when you hit your head.”

  “What happened?”

  She comes into view as she kneels in front of me, and I open my eyes a minuscule amount.

  “I said demon and down you went.” She attempts a smile and fails miserably.

  It all comes flooding back. Torryn’s a demon. I blink slowly.

  She grips my arms and hauls me upright, causing my head to pound even harder. “Oh, no you don’t.”

  “How long have I been in here?” I shiver, cold to my bones, and I hate being cold. I see a pile of towels outline where I had been. “You could have gotten a blanket. Jesus, Grace, you’re strong enough to carry me to my room.”

  “You think I don’t know that? I didn’t want them to see and start asking questions. Or worse.” She glares at me, outraged.

  “I’m sorry.” I reach for her hand, wrapping my fingers around her slim ones. “I know you were just trying to protect me. Here, help me up so I can get up to my room.”

  She pulls me up gently as I grit my teeth in pain. Grabbing the edge of the dryer, I close my eyes and draw deep breaths, fighting the waves of nausea that roll through my body. I gulp a few times as my mouth floods with spit. Gross. Finally, I get it under control and straighten, nodding once. That was stupid; I wince as new pain shoots through my skull.

  “Stay here while I look around really quick,” she murmurs before turning and opening the door. She stops as she steps out into the hall and looks back at me, her forehead creased.

  “Go. I’m fine. I’ll wait right here,” I reassure her, and she nods before closing the door silently.

  I slump against the dryer the second I hear the knob turn as she releases it. My entire body hurts as I reach up toward my head. Running my fingers gingerly over my hair, I feel the dried blood. I don’t need to see it. I’ve felt it plenty of times before.

  I wasn’t expecting the gash and flinch when I touch it. Pulling my hand down, I look at the red on the tips of my finger. It’s sticky, like drying syrup, and I wonder how much I’ve actually lost.

  Glancing down, I see Seraphina’s shirt is soaked with it. I automatically bend down and pick it up, turning to the sink. Tossing it in, I turn on the cold water, closing the drain to let it soak. The silk is covered with water before I consider how twisted my actions are.

  The tears begin to fall, mixing with the water stained with my blood, and then I hear laughter. It takes a moment to realize its coming from me. The pitch rises just as Grace jerks open the door staring at me like I’m… well, crazy.

  I think I might just be.

  “Come on, they just left.” She slides her arm around my waist and helps me through the house and up the stairs.

  To be honest, she carries me the last bit. Giggles are still escaping from my mouth, just like the tears are from my eyes. I don’t cry. I stopped years ago when I realized it did exactly two things -- made them happy or made them mad.

  Grace helps me to the bathroom and turns on the shower. She leaves me to undress only after she’s sure I’m not going to hurt myself in any way. Stepping beneath the scalding spray, I let it wash away the soreness of my muscles before easing my head under it.

  I suck in a breath when the water hits the gash; the sting sends goosebumps rushing over my skin. I hold my head under the water, my eyes on the white porcelain under my feet. Rivers of red water snake down the sides of the tub and race between my feet to the drain.

  It takes longer than I expected for the water to finally run clear. Turning the water off, I step out and pull the towel from the rack then wrap it around my bruised body. Grace had left the door open, and I can see her sitting beside my bed, clothes laid out on it, and I smile a little. She looks up and smiles back before standing and picking the clothes up.

  “Get dressed, and I’ll take care of your wounds.” She hands me the clothes and then closes the door, giving me privacy.

  I dry quickly and then pull on the soft pajamas before opening the door. She motions to the bed, and I cross and sit. Her fingers are gentle as the probes at the cut. I feel her magic tickle over my skin.

  “I was afraid to close it. I wasn’t sure if you had done damage to your brain, and the barrier won’t let me heal you completely.”

  “It’s alright. I know you would have if you could. No
matter what it might cost you.” My voice is low but I know she hears.

  The pains eases as she works, and I feel my muscles relax.

  “I won’t close the cut on your head just in case,” she says.

  “What did I hit it on?”

  “When you fell, you hit the corner of the sink,” she replies. “I was afraid you fractured your skull the way it sounded. Then it took so long for you to wake up.”

  “I dreamt of Hell.” I look up at her to see her reaction, but her face is blank. “I wasn’t scared of it.” I don’t add ‘or him.’ She nods slightly at my words. “Do you know who or what Captain Jack is?”

  Her jaw flexes, and I know she has at least an idea. Her mouth opens slightly, and the tip of her tongue runs over her lower lip before she pulls it between her teeth. Interesting. Grace is always sure of herself, even when she is going up against Seraphina or the others.

  I’m about to press her when a loud meow echoes through the house. We both tense as we straighten on the edge of the mattress.

  “Jack,” I whisper.

  “Wait here.” She turns her eyes to me, and they are hard. Rage fills them, causing them to blaze with iridescent light. They are eerie, and I nod quickly. They narrow for a moment before she stands and rushes to the door. After pulling it open, she steps out slowly then closes it behind her.

  I hear the bolt slide into place and feel my own anger flare. How could she?

  Just one more betrayal.

  Fourteen

  GRACE

  I’m going to kill him. Manifesting my sword, I run down the hall and take the stairs three at a time. My feet hitting the landing at the bottom sounds like thunder.

  “Caliel,” I grind out through my teeth.

  “Grace.”

  I whirl as his voice comes from behind me.

  There he stands after thousands of years. My rage dies like a fire doused with an ocean of water. Tears spring into my eyes, and he rushes to me, his heat wrapping around me. His hands glide up and down my back, tickling over my hidden wings.

  My sobs break free as my sword clatters to the ground.

  “Sister.” His voice caresses over me, and I pull him tighter to me. “Every day, I wished to free you from this place. The things they’ve done to you.” He chokes on the last words.

  He tightens his arms around me, and we stand in silence for as long as we dare.

  “Is it time?” I break the silence.

  “It grows near. Seraphina has gotten information to lead her to another of the descendants. I’m afraid they will soon kill Lillian.” I stiffen in his arms. “But I’ve brought the Princes.”

  “The demon from outside,” I guess, and he nods as he pulls back slightly. “Is he the one for her?” He nods again, and I slump in relief.

  “But she must chose to leave with him. Chose to trust him,” he warns. “You can’t influence her in anyway.”

  “I have to stay.” I hear the defeat in my words.

  “Only for a little while longer.” He nods his head as he speaks, but I see the war that he is fighting with himself.

  “It’s fine. I’ve survived this long; a few more days or weeks will make no difference.” I pause then continue. “Is he with them?”

  “Oh, yes. Stoic as ever.” His eyes light with humor. “He hasn’t said anything, so I’m not sure he remembers.”

  My heart aches at the thought of being forgotten, but I force the feeling away, focusing on the task of getting Lillian free of this place and the Fallen.

  “So what do I need to do?” I ask.

  “We just need to get her back outside and under that tree. I pray Torryn can do the rest,” Caliel says.

  “If the look in her eyes when she told me about him is anything to go on, he can.” I grin at him before hugging him close once more. “I missed you so much, brother.”

  I can’t keep the pain from my tone, and he tightens his arms around me.

  “I will not lose you. I wish…” He falls silent for a moment. “I wish I had not asked you to do this. I should have found another.”

  “Who? No one would have chosen this task. You couldn’t have trusted anyone else. Those that remained, they didn’t fight and they didn’t fall. They hid there, in the heavens. No. There was no one else to do this.” The truth doesn’t make either of us any happier.

  He nods before stepping out of my arms and changing once more into the giant cat Lillian had described. I hear the bolt slide on her door before his voice whispers through my mind.

  ‘Go. Find the others and watch them. Stay safe though.’ I nod and run down the stairs then out the front door.

  I stumble to a stop when I see the demons down the block. They are watching the garden and don’t see me. I let my eyes roam over him before I turn and flee.

  My heart breaks, just like it did that day in heaven.

  Fifteen

  LILLIAN

  Grace doesn’t return.

  I’m pressed against the door, straining to hear anything to hint at what is happening. The bolt sliding free is loud, and I jump back. My eyes dart around the room, looking for something to protect myself with from whatever is on the other side of the door.

  I run to the bed and grab the scissors Grace left laying on the blanket with the other first aid things. They aren’t the best weapon but they will have to do. Holding them out in front of me, I wait, my whole body tense.

  The door doesn’t open and after what seems like hours, my muscles begin to quiver and shake as adrenalin floods my system. I ease one step forward and then stop and listen again. Nothing. Finally, I can’t wait any longer. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around the knob and turn it slowly before pulling the door open. Leaning close to the opening, I glance out into the hall. Nothing. No Grace and no one else.

  Stepping out, I slide along the wall, the scissors held in close to my body as my eyes scan the stairs. My heart pounds as I ease my foot onto the first step. I move slowly down, pausing on each step. Just as my foot touches the top step on the second set of stairs, movement at the base of the stairs on the first floor catches my eye.

  There he sits, his tail flicking as his eyes lock on me, Captain Jack or whoever he is.

  “Where is Grace? What did you do to her?” I freeze when he stands, the scissors shake in my hand.

  He just turns and walks away, disappearing down the hall toward the kitchen. Clenching my teeth, I feel my lips pucker and I start to follow him, taking two steps at a time. How dare he ignore me? I let my gaze drift around as I go, checking to see if I see Grace anywhere, but the house seems empty except for me and the cat.

  Just as I start down the long hall to the kitchen, the back door swings open and the huge ball of fur disappears outside.

  “Hey. Stop. You come back here and answer me,” I scream as I rush after him.

  I’m blinded as I hit the crushed granite walkway and a cloud moves out from in front of the sun. Bringing my hand up, I use it to shade my eyes as I look for Jack. There he is sitting beneath my tree. Narrowing my eyes on him, I come to a stand still, unwilling to move in case it’s a trap.

  “Where is Grace? Answer me. I know you can,” I say.

  “Lillian?” A deep, smoky voice washes over me, one that I recognize.

  There he is -- Torryn, just beyond the barrier, watching me with his Nordic blue eyes. Heat flashes through me. Is it from him or from me? I don’t know. Demon. The word plays over and over in my mind. I look at the midnight colored cat; he had led me here to the demon.

  “Did you kill her?” I whisper scared of the answer. She is as close to a mother as I’ve had. She is all that stands between me and the others.

  “Who?” Torryn asks, looking at Captain Jack. He shakes his head in frustration after a moment. “No, Lillian, Grace is fine. She has gone to find the others to watch them.”

  I stare at them, my eyes bouncing between them. Grace knows him. Is she working with him or for him? Has she the whole time? I feel my feet moving toward t
hem as my emotions whirl. I don’t stop until I’m hidden beneath the low branches and the Spanish moss.

  “She knows him, doesn’t she?” I ask Torryn, and he nods. “Do you know her?”

  “I don’t even know him.” He jerks his head at Captain Jack, who’s ignoring us both currently.

  I study his face. He’s handsome, not in a heartthrob sort of way, not like a movie star, but in a rough way. Tattoos cover most of the skin that I can see, all kinds of images in vibrant technicolor. I can’t help but wonder if they cover all of him. Raising my eyes to his face, I see he’s watching me just as closely and I feel my cheeks heat.

  “He said I could trust you but why would I? Grace told me you’re a demon.” I watch for a reaction, but he just nods once.

  “I am…” He locks his deep blue eyes on me before continuing, “But I wasn’t always.”

  My brows draw down as I ponder his words. Not always.

  “Are demons something before?” I ask.

  “Not all. But some of us began as something else.”

  “Like what?” I’m intrigued.

  “Eight of us began as angels,” he says, like he’s telling me the weather instead of lobbing a grenade. Angels.

  “You were an angel.” I repeat myself, “An angel.”

  I look at him again, past the tattoos and his demeanor, and see what he once was. I can’t, of course. I don’t have the best opinion of angels. My opinion must have either shown on my face or sounded in my voice.

  “I’m no angel now, Lillian.” His voice has dropped low and it does something to me. I feel it deep in my belly.

  Why do I like the idea of that so much? I don’t understand my reaction to him. I don’t understand any of this. I look over at Jack, but his eyes are on me.

  ‘Ask him to tell you what happened.’ Now he has something to say.