Avi immediately averts her eyes. “Not at all, my Lord.”
I lift my chin to Lev, who scrunches his face.
“Why me?” he whines.
“You’re the only one it wears off of within a few minutes,” I reply.
Lev takes a long drag of air through his nose before facing Avi. “Fuck, I hate this part.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’ll be fine.”
He stretches his neck from side to side. “Says you.”
I sit next to Hope, who is watching them both with a guarded but curious look.
Avi closes her eyes. Glowing lilac lines appear, marring her unblemished mocha skin, signaling her demon powers. When she reopens her lids, the color has drained from her eyes, and only the white remains. Within seconds, Lev’s skin begins to crack and peel, taking on the appearance of a grayish stone as she casts him in granite.
“Stop!” Hope stands and screams, horrified.
The sudden shrill cry pulls Avi’s attention from Lev, and she turns toward Hope.
Before eye contact can be made, I’m on my feet, throwing myself in front of Hope, slamming into her and taking us both down. I cover her body with my own in protection.
“Crap. Sorry!” Avi screeches, as her frantic footsteps retreat out of the room.
When she’s gone, I pull back and allow my eyes to move around the office, confirming it’s clear before focusing on Hope. She’s curled up on the floor, pale.
At the sight of her, my heart seizes in my chest, and an unfamiliar lump crawls into my throat. I sit up and she scrambles to do the same.
“What the hell?” she manages to get out just as Avi returns with Vassago and Lore.
“I’m sorry, Hope,” Avi apologizes. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“What about me?” Lev snaps, throwing his arms out to the side. “Are you just going to leave me like this?” Only his lower body is covered in stone.
Avi cringes. “The good news is it will wear off faster,” she pacifies.
“Fucking fabulous,” he replies, crossing his arms.
Hope shivers and scrambles away from me. I re-approach slowly, and sit on my heels in front of her. She’s clearly terrified, and it takes every ounce of strength I have to not pull her into my arms to console her.
Instead, I gently hold my hand out to her and wait.
“Who are you?” she asks.
With my hand extended, I soften my expression. “I am Stolas, demon prince of the Nine Circles. Son of Lucifer. Most beings call me my Lord. You can call me Stone.”
Her lashes lower as she glowers at me. “Why am I here?”
“For your protection.”
Hope’s eyes swing to the other demons. “Why are they here?”
“For my protection.”
She exhales and nervously plays with the bottoms of her sleeves.
“No one here will hurt you, you have my word. In my world, that is binding.”
The oracle contemplates my words before she fixates on my outstretched hand.
“Take it,” I encourage. “You’re safe with me.”
A few moments pass between us before she slowly slides her hand into mine.
I wrap my fingers around hers, and something I’m unaccustomed to—concern for another being—shakes me to my very core as I help her to her feet.
Now that Hope understands we’re real, she looks at Lore and curls into me.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Lev teases her.
Lore taps at Lev’s stone legs. “Best part of my day so far.”
A glint of annoyance flickers across his face and he falls silent.
“Is everything you told me at Shadowbrook true?” Hope asks Avi.
“Yes, of course. I am the daughter of Medusa. One of my demoness powers is the ability to turn beings into stone. Human, supernatural, it doesn’t matter. It’s my gift.”
Hopes expression is unamused. “And you?” she questions Lore.
“I am the daughter of Tlaltecuhtli, the earth Lord.” Lore is a goddess of few words.
“Tlaltecuhtli is the only male earth god,” I expand. “The Aztecs know that he delights in raging chaos, especially in the ocean.”
“My father is responsible for the great flood,” Lore adds.
A patronizing smile forms on Hope’s lips. “You must be so proud.”
“I am an earth goddess. That is what defines me,” Lore snaps, her tattoos showing themselves on her arms and legs by glowing gold as her anger level heightens.
I step in front of Hope to shield her.
Vassago wraps Lore’s long hair around his hand and tugs gently, pulling her to his side.
“Easy, goddess.”
Lore’s spiteful gaze remains trained on Hope. “Do not ever speak out of turn again, mortal. This will be your only warning.”
“Ugh. Finally,” Lev’s booming voice interrupts the drama.
The room turns its attention to him, watching as he shakes his legs out, now that the stone casing looks more like a pile of mud on the floor.
“Having water as your demon element certainly comes in handy,” he jokes as the cerulean color fades from his runes, leaving them black. He slides his aviators back on for Hope’s protection as he approaches us and casually takes a seat on the couch.
“Leviathan,” Hope whispers. “Doesn’t your name mean huge fish or something?” she inquires.
“Sea monster. A pretty badass one at that,” he counters proudly.
“That’s your big demon power, turning into a sea monster?”
“No, mortal, that is not my big demon power. My father is one of the kings of the Circles, Beelzebub, the demon of gluttony and prince of false gods. And while water manipulation is a divine gift of mine, my demon influence is the power of indulgence.”
“What’s with the sunglasses?” she prods.
“My eyes possess great illuminating power. It’s how I blind my victims before possessing them.”
Hope’s mouth opens and then shuts.
“Yeah, but the big bad sea monster is also afraid of a small worm.” Avi giggles.
“Hey,” Lev barks. “Kilbit clings to the gills of large fish and kills them. It’s gross.”
Avi rolls her eyes. “You have until the end of time, so I wouldn’t worry about a worm.”
I clear my throat. “Lev is also the chief lieutenant of my father’s army. He, Avi, and Lore are my guards.”
“And you?” Hope swings her attention to Vassago.
“I am a Seeker, and the son of Lilith. I find lost or hidden souls,” he states, bored.
Hope’s gaze roams over him and she’s quiet for a long time. “You left out that you are the high-level prince of prophecy, because you possess the ability to see into the past and future. This power makes you a Seeker,” she says as if on autopilot, gaining the attention of the room. “The red serpent is your branding. You’re Lucifer’s golden child, but due to the human blood running through your veins, you will not be charged with leading the Circles. His purebred will instead, though Stolas’s heart isn’t in it,” her voice is barely audible. “Your runes turn gold, like Lore’s, when your powers are strongest.”
Vassago remains silent as Hope approaches him.
“It was your shadow I saw outside of Dr. Foster’s window, and you who appeared in my suite that night. You, Seeker, found me. The great red serpent, who will drain the life from my veins.”
I watch as her body sags and she blinks several times before realizing how close she is to him. Afraid, she steps back and searches me out.
The room continues to silently stare at her in awe and shock.
“I’m sorry,” Hope says, an embarrassed blush crosses her cheeks. “I missed what you said. You’re Lilith’s son?” she asks, seemingly unaware of the words she just spoke.
Vassago’s eyes meet mine before sliding to the window.
“Do you not remember what you just said?” Avi questions her with concern.
At
the inquiry, Hope fidgets with her sleeves. “Oh, um, I sometimes have blackouts when I don’t take my medicine. Did that happen again?”
Silence.
I open my mouth to reassure her everything is fine, when Vassago interjects.
“What we have imparted on you is forbidden knowledge. Consider it an olive branch of trust,” he seethes and storms out of the room, with Lore quick to follow at his heels.
DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE
Hope
OVER THE PAST TWO YEARS, my life has consisted of seedy and peculiar circumstances, filled with people I always need to be on guard with. This group, though—they’re officially taking it to the next level.
Exhaustion layers over the surface of my consciousness as my thoughts and defenses kick into overdrive. I glance around the room and exhale. “Either I’m extremely disoriented from not taking my meds, or my schizophrenia is getting worse. Which one is it?”
“Neither,” Stone responds. “Leave us,” he orders his friends.
They follow his command without missing a beat.
My brain is still having a tough time wrapping itself around what I just saw—or imagined. Horrific dreams haunt my sleep each night, keeping me from ever truly being able to separate fiction from reality. My mind constantly lives in limbo, where I teeter between what’s real and what my damaged imagination has created.
Once Stone and I are alone, I swing my attention to him. “Let’s just say I believe you’re this . . . demon prince.”
“Stolas. Prince of the Nine Circles of Hell,” he corrects with a cocky edge.
“So you’ve said.”
He bows his head in a nod.
“Then why do you want me to call you Stone?”
“I have my reasons.”
“What’s the real reason you kidnapped me from the retreat?” I ask with derision.
“As I told you before, for your own protection.”
The conversation stalls when we fall into a determined standoff. It’s not long before I decide I’ve had enough of his crap, and swiftly make my way toward the door, then head down the stairs.
I almost make it to the bottom of the staircase before Stone appears behind me.
“Where are you going?” he asks calmly.
“You said I’m not a prisoner here, so I’m leaving,” I reply over my shoulder, continuing down the stairs.
A large hand wraps around my elbow, halting my progress.
Warm energy zaps me with his touch, causing me to yelp in surprise.
“I’m sorry,” he says, letting go when I recoil.
“What the hell was that?” My heart pounds in my chest. I’m shaken and a bit frightened by what just happened. I want to retreat from him; the intensity of his nearness is disturbing.
Stone sighs in frustration. “It’s because we’re connected. When I touch you, my energy will exchange and flow into you. It will wear off eventually. It happens because the divine light in your soul is warning off my impure presence. It’s forceful now because our protection bond is new and my demonic gifts are powerful.”
“Protection bond?” I repeat in a whisper. “You’re insane.”
Stone’s lips press together. He’s silent for a long time, before he motions with his chin for me to continue my attempt at escape. Holding his gaze in challenge, I take a few small steps away from him, my body fighting me with each sliver of space I create between us.
What is that feeling?
Measured, shallow breaths do little to hide the uncertainty racing through my body.
When there is enough distance between us, I look around, scanning the open level. The house is modern but cozy and bright. A large kitchen designed with marble, white cabinets, and stainless steel chef’s appliances sits at the back of the house, connecting to the inviting living area through an open dining room.
I walk toward the living area. Stone has decided to follow me, moving with caution.
The sunshine is streaming in from the large windows and I hurry to them, checking each one to see if they will open, but they’re all locked.
I growl in frustration, and turn to face him.
A smug grin draws up the corner of his mouth. “By all means, please continue your exodus.”
Narrowing my eyes at his arrogance, I move away from him and walk down a hallway, to a set of double doors. Excitement fills me because I assume they lead outside. Without hesitation, I grab the handles and twist. Of course, they don’t open.
Frustrated, I kick at the wood and release several aggravated, shrill screams.
“Are you finished?”
“I thought you said I wasn’t a prisoner?” My voice clips every word harshly.
“You aren’t. Inside the house, you have free roaming privileges. Even to the lower floor, which houses the gym, sauna, and library,” he answers in a bored voice. “When I can trust that you won’t attempt to leave, I may even allow you to explore the outside grounds.”
“They’ll come looking for me, you know. Dr. Foster. My parents. They’ll notice I’m gone.”
“No, they won’t. Vassago and I made sure of that.”
“You’re evil,” I push out.
Stone slowly sidles up to me. A sinful smile plays at his lips as he lifts his fingers and tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. Air catches in my lungs at his tender touch, which is a stark contrast to his overall cold and stern disposition.
Pure malicious intent settles across his facial features, and for the first time since meeting him, I fear there might be some truth in what he’s told me. Suddenly, I’m very aware of the darkness and malevolence lurking under his beautiful, well-crafted façade.
“You’re right. I am pure evil.” Stone’s voice becomes low and harsh. “As of now, I have no desire to kill you. But, if you continue to piss me off by disrespecting me, the torture I will make you suffer will be so horrific, you’ll beg me to end your mortal life.”
Coldness flows over me at his words and a sick feeling arises in the pit of my stomach. Something tells me he would enjoy inflicting pain.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask, my voice shaky, which he doesn’t miss.
“Because I can.”
Stone turns and walks away. I muster the courage to follow him. There’s a little voice inside my head that says I should stop pushing his boundaries. Yet, I’m not the type of person to back down. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have.
Against my better judgment, I decide to challenge him. “You said I need protection. Protection from what? You?”
Stone turns to face me, and a moment of silence passes between us.
“My father,” he states. “The Devil himself.”
No response comes from my lips as I just stare at him.
“It’s nice to see you can be quiet,” he counters.
I present him with a sarcastic smile and fold my arms across my chest. “By all means, please explain why your father would be after me.”
He takes a seat on the couch. “There is an ancient legend that a mortal will be born within this millennium, who’ll be a powerful oracle. Unlike the seers before this child, the mortal will possess the ability to read both dark and light souls. You see, when a mortal is chosen and touched by the divine, the power of prophecy is given—future sight. Since it’s gifted by the archangels, oracles can only read pure souls.”
Panic settles around my throat, choking me. “And who has a dark soul?”
“Those of us in the Circles. We are not born of, nor have we been touched by, the divine light; therefore we are not permitted to pass through the gates.”
“Demons?”
“Yes.”
“And your soul is dark?”
Stone’s lips press together. “My soul is as black as they come.”
“Why don’t I believe that?”
His gaze doesn’t drift from mine. “I can assure you, there’s only darkness there.”
I inhale his intoxicating scent and take a step closer. “Why is this one orac
le granted the gift to read both dark and light souls?”
“Throughout the years, the deities have taken sides. Some gods and goddesses have aligned with the divine, while others, like Lore’s father, have allied with the Circles. It’s a game they play—pitting Heaven against Hell, and using humans as pawns. I can only assume that this . . . prophesied oracle is the gods’ attempt to even the playing field. You see, if only the divine are granted the gift of future sight, then the dark souls don’t have a chance at world domination. But if you allow the oracle to foresee for both the dark and light souls, then you have a match. A real game. It balances the power. The dark souls can also then see the future. Hence my father’s substantial interest in you.”
I scoff, taken aback by his claim. “You think I am this oracle who can read demon souls?”
“Yes,” he states simply.
“Why is that?”
“Because not more than ten minutes ago, Hope, I witnessed you fall into a trance and read Vassago. If you hadn’t picked up on it yet, he’s a dark soul. And you . . .” he stands, taking a step into my personal space, “you are the prophesied oracle.”
My brows pinch. I feel as if I’ve been pushed down the rabbit hole. Nothing makes sense, and I can no longer separate reality from make-believe. This must be how Alice felt.
“I don’t remember prophesizing anything about Vassago.”
“It’s common for oracles to black out when they read. Their powers are too strong to handle in the beginning, until they learn to control and manipulate them.”
I rub my head as an ache begins to form. “You’re crazier than I am.”
“I take offense to that.”
“It was meant to be insulting.”
Stone takes my chin between his fingers. “Neither one of us is crazy. You need to stop saying that about yourself. This is real. My words are true.”
I groan and even though my body protests it, I yank my chin out of his hold. “Why would Lucifer send his heir to protect me from himself? That makes no sense.”
Stone’s jaw tightens. “You’re divine. Don’t ever say his name aloud.” His deep angry voice ricochets off the walls, causing me to jump.
“Jesus, sorry.”
He groans. “Fuck. That’s even worse.”
Stolas: A Dark Soul Series Novel Page 7
