by H. M. Ward
Valefar
Vol. 1
The prequel novella to the bestselling
Demon Kissed Series
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Laree Bailey Press
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by H. M. Ward. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without explicit permission.
Laree Bailey Press
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition: November 2011
KOBO EDITION
Demon Kissed Series By H.M. Ward
Demon Kissed
Cursed
Torn
Satan’s Stone
The 13th Prophecy
Assassin: Fall of the Golden Valefar
More Series By H.M. Ward
Vampire Apocalypse: Bane
Twisted Tales
To my sweet baby and awesome kids!
Thank you to the
Awesome fans who loved
Demon Kissed
From the very beginning.
PROLOGUE
The story begins 369 days before Ivy is demon kissed on her 17th birthday.
CHAPTER ONE
“Legend states that there were thirteen prophecies that foretold the destruction of the Earth, the annihilation of the Martis and Valefar, and the obliteration of the demon Kreturus…” Jake paused as he always did when he spoke of this with Collin. It didn’t matter how many times they’d talked about it, Collin’s response was always the same.
Collin turned away from his friend with his arms folded. His dark shirt clung to his chest defining the muscles beneath. He looked side to side; making sure no one was listening. They were backstage in the school’s theater. Long black drapes hung floor to ceiling in front of them and a cement wall was directly behind them.
Collin didn’t like Jake speaking of this here, now, so he cut him off in a hushed whisper, “And that prophecy infers my death. I know, Jake.”
Collin knew the prophecy, and he knew more about it than Jake did. However, he kept those comments to himself. The younger Valefar had proved to be trustworthy over time. Well, as much as a Valefar could be trusted. Turning to Jake he saw the worry pinched on his face and the tension that lined his arms—tension that wasn’t normally present in this Valefar.
Collin’s eyes turned to slits as he stepped toward his friend slowly, “What do you know.” It was a command, not a question.
Jake was Collin’s second in command. The hierarchy of the Valefar was precarious at best, and more accurately described as a savage blood bath. No other Valefar had ever been able to hold power as long as Collin had, and despite Jake’s age, he knew it. Befriending Collin ensured his longevity. It had occurred to him to keep this information to himself, because if Collin was destroyed, then Jake could take his place. The thought amused Jake. He batted the idea around in his mind, teasing out scenarios that could lead to Jake stealing Collin’s throne. Jake watched the man in front of him. Collin’s power was unnatural and surpassed most by far. It would be suicide to challenge him. No, if there was to be a change in Valefar power this side of Hell, it would be caused by someone other than Jake.
Shifting his feet, Jake pushed the thoughts aside, feeling Collin’s hard gaze on his face. When he looked at his master, Collin was less than an inch from him. Clearing his throat, Jake looked directly into Collin’s face and reported what he’d learned. “The Martis suspect movement.”
Collin arched an eyebrow, refolded his arms, and leaned against the stone wall. They were at the high school where Collin spent much of his time in the auditorium. Acting was something Valefar excelled in. It allowed them a tentative escape from their hellish lives. Jake also dabbled with acting, and knew how dangerous it was to approach Collin here, but the information was too important to waste time. Jake had come looking for him when he realized what was happening.
Collin smiled to himself, as if he couldn’t believe it. “And…”
Jake leaned closer, his voice not audible to the human ear, “And it’s her—the one who will destroy you and cause the prophecies to fulfill.” He smiled at Collin. “She’s within reach. The Martis rooted her out. I doubt she even knows what she is yet.”
The two separated as footfalls echoed toward them, one step at a time, from the other side of the dark curtain. Collin nodded at Jake and said, “We’ll discuss this in detail later.” Jake nodded and turned away before he could be seen, and effonated. Collin watched as Jake’s form went hazy. It looked like his entire body had heat billowing off of it, like blacktop in the summer sun before he completely disappeared.
Collin leaned against the wall, lost in thought with a soft smile lining his lips. He’d spent the past centuries aware of the prophecy and the girl who would condemn him to death, but until now, he’d never had any idea that he could find her. This single girl would be responsible for the greatest disasters known to her kind, and his. She not only brought about his death, and the annihilation of two races of immortals, but she would also be the sole being responsible for creating the apocalypse. Earth was a stepping stone between Hell and Heaven. She would be the cause of another angel demon war—a war he didn’t want to fight. Wars like that had no winners. Collin’s fingers rubbed against his chin. As he was lost in thought the footfalls drew nearer and one of the stage-crew girls rounded the corner.
Collin pushed himself off the wall, and walked past her. The perky girl was clad in pink from head to toe. She smiled at him, opening her mouth to engage him in a conversation in which he had little interest. Not stopping to indulge her, Collin nodded as he passed and said, “Jenna Marie.”
CHAPTER TWO
Thoughts of the prophecies consumed Collin. After fumbling his lines beyond belief, he excused himself from rehearsal and walked backstage. Pulling open the metal door that lead to the basement, he walked through and bounced down the steps into the darkness. He could have gone home, but he wanted a chance to think about this on his own. This school was one place where he could be at ease. A new Valefar wouldn’t suddenly show up and attack him. Valefar were slow and methodical, certain to thoroughly destroy their victims in every way possible.
Collin rounded the corner at the bottom of the landing. He moved through the darkness with ease and threw his body onto a well-worn couch. Threading his fingers behind his head, he laid there, staring into space thinking about what would happen if he killed the Prophecy One. It couldn’t be that easy. There had to be repercussions to destroying her. Would the prophecy just stop? Collin wasn’t certain. He’d never seen the prophecies himself. He’d only heard stories of them. The Martis were diligently searching for the girl in the first prophecy painting in the series. And Collin was dying to wrap his fingers around it. Not only would the painting show the face of his assassin, but it would also reveal the ancient words that had been forgotten—words he needed to break his bargain with Kreturus. Collin’s chest swelled, and his heart raced at the thought.
No one knew where Collin’s power came from. The other Valefar assumed he took the throne to the Upperworld the same way any other Valefar had—through blood and deception. Only the most powerful of Valefar survived. Being ruthless was expected, but Collin’s power didn’t come from centuries of battles. It came from a bargain—a bargain that cost him more than he reali
zed. Collin pressed his eyes closed, trying to force back the memory. There were few things that truly terrified him, and this was one of them. Try as he might, it was no use. Thinking of the prophecies conjured the memory.
It washed over him in a second and chilled him to the bone. Collin could see himself, ages ago, standing in front of the most powerful demon alive. Kreturus had been trapped in a cave in the Underworld. No one was crazy enough to go looking for him, but Collin did. He moved through the Underworld, killing everything in his path, hell-bent on finding the demon who owned him—and all the other Valefar—so that he could demand his freedom. Collin laughed at the thought. His plan was flawed from the start. There is no such thing as a compromising, level-headed demon. But back then, Collin didn’t care. He didn’t want the life that had been thrust upon him. He hated the Valefar, though he was one. They were responsible for the pain that he remembered with vivid intensity. He saw it burned onto the back of his eyes every time he blinked - his wife; his child; both ashen faced and laid lifeless on the pyre with flames flickering high into the night sky. The Valefar were to blame. Determination made him reckless, and so Collin found the demon.
The demon’s presence was terrifying. He flowed like black ink into every crevice of the cave. The angels contained him in that prison, but the ancient demon shifted his form as needed to make his imprisonment tolerable—until he could find a way to escape. Collin’s tenacity didn’t falter when the demon’s presence wrapped around him like a cloak made of liquid ice. Collin didn’t back away, or run screaming as the demon’s vapors filled his lungs, as he breathed. Any other man would have cried out in terror. Collin did not. Rage consumed him. The demon’s touches only made Collin more irate.
Collin roared, “Return my soul to me! Lift the Valefar curse and let me go free.” He looked around in the darkness, expecting to be killed instantly for demanding anything.
But, a low rumble filled the room as Kreturus laughed at him, “You can take all the souls you want.”
“No, I can’t. I can’t take the one soul I need,” Collin growled. His jaw locked tight as his hands shook in the darkness clenched into tight fists. There was no way to force the demon to do anything. Collin would have to convince him. He would have to persuade Kreturus into giving him what he wanted. But, Collin had nothing to barter. Kreturus already had his soul.
As if the ancient demon could read his thoughts, the inky blackness seemed to purr. “There is one thing… One thing that I would bargain for.”
Shaking, Collin shot upright, and hung his legs over the side of the couch and ended the memory. His heart raced in his chest, beating wildly as he repressed the recollection to the deepest depths of his mind. Leaning forward, he clutched his head between his hands trying to forget. He had given too much. It was a mistake. A mistake that cost him more than he’d already lost.
Startled by the creak of the steps above him, Collin slowly stood and moved through the darkened room trying to see through the metal stairs. The stage lights illuminated the person standing in the doorway until the door clicked shut and darkness cloaked the person. Collin couldn’t see who was on the landing above, but heard the creak of each step as the person came closer and closer.
Thinking it must have been an enemy, Collin’s body tensed. He moved quickly and pressed himself between two flats that stretched high above him that were leaning, angled against the wall. Moving slowly, he crept behind the canvases. The person moved down the stairs and stopped on the last step, and sat. Collin carefully stepped over props and moved silently through the room. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of brimstone. Pressing his finger to the side of the sharp stone, he drew blood and rubbed it against the rock. Instantly, the stone became fluid and changed shape in his hand elongating into a blade, while the section of stone under Collin’s grip swelled into a hilt. His grip tightened around the dagger as the stone became hard in his hand. Crouching close to the floor, he approached the staircase from the back. The person sitting there failed to move. They sat utterly motionless breathing in sharp breaths that were too loud for a Valefar, or for someone hunting him. When Collin slid up behind the staircase, he hesitated. Holding his weapon ready to strike, a familiar scent hit his heightened sense of smell. The grip of the blade in his hand loosened as he realized who it was. Collin ran his finger along the blade slicing open his skin. When the blood sank into the black metal, it melted back into a small stone. By the time Collin pressed it into his pocket, his finger had already healed.
He stared at her back for a moment, certain of her identity, and backed away from her. Her lungs expanded filling her body with air as she shook. Collin could hear her sniffle as he moved away, back toward the couch. Pushing his hair out of his face, he looked at her in the darkness one last time. He wished she’d talk to him and tell him what was bothering her enough to sit and cry in the shadows, but he knew she wouldn’t.
So, he retreated to the couch and silently sprawled out again. When he reached his hand for the switch behind the couch, he flipped on the lights. With a smile in his voice he said, “Only creepy people sit in the basement in the dark, Ivy.”
CHAPTER THREE
She sucked in a sharp breath, startled by him. He moved across the room impossibly fast as she wiped away the tears that had fallen across her cheeks. The playfulness in his voice managed to pull her lips into a half smile, but she faltered before it fully formed and the smile vanished.
Collin knelt in front of her, careful not to touch her, though he wanted to. “What’s the matter?” It was a pointless question. She never told him anything of importance, but for some reason he continued to ask.
Ivy looked at his blue eyes and shook her head. Her hand flew to catch a tear that was about to fall and wiped it away. “Nothing,” she said.
Collin cocked his head and then nodded. “Yes, I see. You’re hiding in the basement in the dark…” a smiled pulled at the corners of his mouth. “And nothing’s wrong. That sounds about right.”
A crooked smile lined Ivy’s lips as she leaned toward him, startling him slightly by her abrupt movement. His heart raced as she leaned dangerously close to his face, “I’m not the only creepy one down here. You were down here, too.”
Collin looked at her dark brown eyes. They shone despite the tears that she tried to hide. Ivy was complicated. She fascinated him and he desperately wanted to figure her out. But, he couldn’t. Finally he answered, “Something was bothering me. I was thinking about it.” His gaze didn’t waver as he looked at her face. A piece of hair was pressed against her cheek. It flowed from her face down past her shoulders in long loose curls—soft curls he wanted to touch. Reaching out, Collin moved his fingers towards her. He sensed her tense as her back straightened, and she started to pull away from him, but then she stopped. Collin’s fingers wrapper around the curl, as he pulled it off her wet cheek and let go. Ivy’s lips were parted as if she was going to speak, but no words came out.
They started at each other in silence, neither of them willing to move and break whatever was happening between them. Collin had felt it before, but this was the first time that Ivy had felt the attraction, too. Collin’s pulse raced when he looked in her eyes. His hand drifted next to her cheek when he’d released her hair. His hand was frozen in indecision by her cheek. Collin pondered sliding his fingers across her warm, smooth skin. All he needed to do was move his finger, just tilt his palm. But he hesitated. Ivy barely breathed while her gaze remained transfixed on Collin’s eyes. Her warm brown gaze enthralled him in a way he’d never known. His fingers began to move closer to her cheek—to brush against her smooth skin when the door above them creaked. The moment shattered and Ivy’s eyes darted away from Collin’s. She slouched back against the step, turning her head towards the sound. Collin looked up at the doorway. Light from the stage spilled into the stairwell.
“Collin!” Jamie called. The girl stood in the doorway, not bothering to look down the stairs, knowing he was down there. “They wa
nt you on stage again.” She let go of the door and turned away. As the door slowly closed she added, “Now!”
The door clicked shut. The light was gone, but he could still see Ivy clearly. She smiled a fake smile and said, “You’d better go.” Collin swallowed hard, and nodded. He rose, towering above her and waited for her to shift out of the way so he could go upstairs. But she didn’t. Instead her long eyelashes looked up at him with wide eyes. Her lips parted slowly as if she was going to speak, but she said nothing. Finally she breathed, “Better go…” and looked away from him. She shifted to one side of the step casting her face down toward the floor. Collin nodded and walked up the stairs, leaving her alone in the darkness.
CHAPTER FOUR
Later that night Collin returned to his home—a home on Eastern Long Island that housed many Valefar. It was better to keep them close, so he could learn their weaknesses. In the past Valefar had lived together to protect the group from Martis. A lone Valefar was more susceptible to falling prey as the Martis tried to exterminate his kind. However, when they banned together, the Martis were less likely to attack. The Valefar remained hidden, moving from place to place as needed. Collin had Valefar positioned everywhere. And they were all his to command. They stalked Martis, tracking them by scent. And some of the newer Martis were too young to realize what they were. Some of them were killed, while others they tracked. Collin gleaned information from every Martis before they died. The younger ones weren’t as helpful, but the elder ones—they were another issue. They knew more, but it was difficult to get them to speak before they died, but when they did… That was what he needed—what he hoped for. Information was power. And power was the only way to free himself from his bargain with the demon.
