Her Black Soul (The Dark Amulet Series Book 3)

by A. J. Norris

  “Probably take some getting used to. You know you can talk, right?”

  “Y-Y-Yes, m-my D-D-Dark…ness,” the demon stammered. “A-Ahem.”

  Aba closed his eyes and shook his head. A portal opened at his command. The outer edges warped the air. Berus peered through the hole between dimensions then pulled his head back quickly.

  “Just so we’re clear, let’s go over this again,” Aba said. “What are you supposed to do?”

  The demon cleared his throat again. His voice cracked and stuttered. “F-Find f-fe-female and an-angel—”

  “That took forever. And? Spit it out.”

  “F-Find am-am-amulet. Bring, bring ba-back—”

  “Good lord…” What happened during the transformation? What had Aba done wrong? “Just bring back the female and the amulet to me. I have no use for the male.” He arched his back as tiny prickly sensations traveled down his spine.

  Berus dove through the three-foot round portal.

  Aba charged after him but stayed on the Netherworld side. “Wait, you moron! You need clothes.” On the other side, the demon was on his hands and knees with his head hung low from his spine, in the same dark alley in which the Ruler had taken Virgil. Right near an angel hangout and portal to Arcadia. Leather pants, combat boots and a jacket appeared on Berus’s body at Aba’s will. The other male stiffened for a second. “Relax,” Aba said.

  “H-H-Hate c-c-cloth—”

  Aba collapsed the portal, cutting off the stuttering demon.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Virgil

  Evita remained frozen.

  Virgil shouted, “Run!” again, but she still didn’t move. Virgil picked her up and sprinted toward where Jeremiah told him the natural occurring portal was located, a thinning of the membrane between Netherworld and Earth. Moonlight shone through the opening and allowed more visibility inside the cavern.

  Something clutched his shoulder and stung him. He twisted away from what he knew could only be a Shadow-demon’s grasp. A black tendril as thick as setting tar snaked around his wrist. He kept driving forward despite the stinging agony.

  Evie screamed.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  His mate slipped through his arms as the Shadows yanked her feet out from underneath her, enveloping her body in a matter of seconds, muffling her cries. She pawed and scratched the ground with her fingernails. Oh Deus, what Virgil wouldn’t give for a blue-flaming sword right now. He dove for her hands. The demons hissed and snagged one of her wrists out of his reach and pinned it to her back. They were both dragged further from the gateway to Earth. Clutching her hand, Virgil grabbed a stalagmite as they went past it. He wrapped his bicep around the dripstone spike and held on with every ounce of muscle he possessed. Sweat poured into his eyes. She screamed the most horrible gut-wrenching sound and he nearly let go.

  The Shadows were strong. However, Evie had been a Warrior—bred to fight demons and win. She could peel their snake-like appendages off like Band-Aids if she believed she could.

  “Fight them!” he told her.

  “I caaaan’t.”

  “Yes…you…can. You’re…a…” Virgil spoke through great effort. Even though he felt his arm muscles tearing, he wouldn’t let go. He had to tell her who she was—there was no time to waste. “You’re Warrior class.”

  “What?!”

  “Warrior angel. You’re an angel. Get mad at them!”

  He needed to take his own advice. His eyes glowed in the dark, casting a brilliant light on the demons. A mass of viscous tar pinned Evie to the cavern floor.

  “Fight!”

  He said the word but she didn’t believe she could. What would make her angry enough to explode and send the Shadows away cowering in fear? He thought back to the first day they met. She’d had a sharp tongue and a devilish smile. Virgil fell in love with her immediately; she was so different from him. He’d called her a pixie and meant it as a compliment. Evie didn’t agree, and from then on any time he said any word beginning with a “p-i,” she glared at him. “Don’t give up, you pixie!”

  “What did you just—”

  “You heard me, pixie!”

  “How dare you!” A glow emanated from her skin and she jerked her hand free of his hold. “Don’t. Call. Me. Pixie!” Her entire body shook while her voice grew in volume on each word. Her energy gathered and her light brightened. Eardrum rupturing screams from the Shadow-demons shook the walls. Stalactites crumbled and crashed on the ground, the reddish crystalline dust filled the air. Virgil turned his head when blinding light blasted out of her, sending a wall of white, washing over the entire cavern. The shockwave sent him somersaulting backward into a wall. Another dripstone fell from the ceiling, landing between his legs.

  The powerful explosion created a shallow depression beneath her. Shadow-demon ash surrounded her and the surviving ones fled. They retracted up the walls and around a bend, squealing. Virgil covered his ears until he recalibrated, blocking the frequency. Evie lay on the ground, curled into a ball. Her light faded. He hurried to her side, knelt next to her, and placed his palm on her hip.

  “We have to go. I’m sure they’ll be back with reinforcements.”

  She flinched and squeezed his hand, her grip cracking his knuckles. Then she gasped and let go. “I can’t believe I—are you okay?”

  Virgil groaned and helped her stand. “We have to go. Now.” He wiggled his fingers, checking to make sure they all still worked. He longed to embrace his mate but his filthy body kept him from doing so.

  ***

  Evita

  The angel strode away without looking back.

  Evita jogged to catch up to him. “Hey, what happened?” Virgil shook his head and pointed ahead of them. “What is—oh.” About four feet off the ground and three feet in diameter, a wavy ring hung in the air. “Is that it?”

  She had expected more. A door of some kind, a knob at least. Another obstacle? Why hadn’t more inhabitants left Netherworld? Then she remembered the Shadow-demons and shivered.

  He ran toward the portal to Earth’s realm and dove through it. Evita cringed and waited for him to belly-flop onto the hard ground, but he never landed. She peered into the circle. Virgil was on his hands and knees on the other side about ten feet below her. For the first time, she noticed he wasn’t completely naked. Although, his pants had been stripped off, he still wore fitted shorts. Or maybe those were short knickers. He stood to his full height, streaked with filth, and put his hands out for her. “I’ll catch you. Jump.”

  Evita frowned. “You know, you’re still covered in,” she grimaced, “feces.”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “I’ll take the bruises. Thanks.”

  He sighed and waved her off. “Suit yourself,” he said and sat down on a fallen tree trunk.

  The other realm was dark but dimly lit by an unseen source. Moonlight, she realized. Why she knew this shocked her. Tree trunk. Moonlight. The ground there was covered in grass and dirt and more trees. Memories filled her mind. Evita belonged not to Netherworld, or Earth, but someplace else. She pictured clouds. And…and…angels?

  Arcadia.

  Virgil knew her because she’d been an angel too. Her hands flew to her horns.

  No!

  She wanted to fight the discovery but couldn’t. She’d fallen and had been captured by Abaddon. Evita had never learned if she’d been able to save Elliott the Redeemer from falling.

  She leaped through the portal without a glance back. With a tuck and roll, she landed on her feet in a crouched position. The fact that he wanted to protect her from hurting herself was sweet, yet completely unnecessary. And somewhat insulting.

  They walked in silence away from the portal. The smell of water filled the air. Virgil must have sensed it a half-second before because he bolted further ahead, into the night.

  She teleported and found him sitting in a shallow creek splashing water on his face. He rinsed the crap off his arms, legs,
and chest. Amid the streaks of grime, she saw something tattooed between his pectoral muscles. It was hard to make out the shape in the dim moonlight. She waded into the stream to get a closer look under the guise of washing herself too. The tattoo was a feather with a curled end, one she’d seen in her dreams. Warriors marked their mates with these symbols and all of them were unique. No memories of him surfaced. Was Virgil her mate?

  “I fell.” Her face tightened into a thin smile.

  Virgil stilled for a moment. “Yes.” He cast his eyes at the water, clearly affected by her falling prey to Abaddon. The angel wasn’t the only one.

  Inhaling sharply, she nodded. Tears stung her eyes. “I didn’t mean to upset—there was another angel—”

  “Elliott the Redeemer.”

  “Yeah,” she furrowed her brow. “How did you know?”

  “He told me.”

  “Oh, so…um…did he…?” She placed her hands over her mouth in a praying position.

  “He’s fine. And about to be a father by now.” Virgil continued grumbling under his breath about how much time had passed on Earth while he’d been in Netherworld, although he didn’t quantify it.

  A smile spread across her face. This was good news. Elliott had made it to safety after all. Thank, Deus. Virgil stopped splashing water on himself and gaped at her. She blushed and looked at the stream. She pushed some water around with her foot. “Um, so how do you know me?”

  “You don’t know? Or are you just teasing me?”

  She put a hand over her heart. “Why would I do that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Evie. I’m sorry I haven’t greeted you properly. I wanted to be clean…er, cleaner for you.” He glanced down in disgust while he continued bathing himself.

  “What are you talking about?”

  He stared at her with his head tilted slightly, his eyes smoldering.

  Evita folded her arms across her breasts. “Why would you want to greet me properly?” She knew, however, and the idea quickened her pulse. Frightened her.

  He closed his eyes, and sighed heavily. “I guess, I wouldn’t.” He said the last word through clenched teeth.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said without looking at her. He stood, his joints popping. The muscles in his legs flexed. “Let me ask you something. Do you recognize me?”

  She furrowed her brow. “No, should I?”

  He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck and muttered under his breath, “You should. Definitely.”

  “Why?”

  He shook his head, refusing to look at her.

  “Look at me. Please.”

  “I’d rather not.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Berus

  Berus sniffed the night air. He pinched his nose with his fingers and opened his mouth to breathe. Earth stunk. Or at least this part had a foul odor. A large metal square container butted up against a wall. He stepped closer, kicking a glass bottle with the toe of his boot, peered inside, and immediately regretted it. The smell was much stronger in the box. Something had died and been left to rot.

  A door swung wide and a human male and female stumbled down a set of four steps. She fell onto her knees. He tripped over her crouched body, landed on his side, then settled on his back at Berus’s feet. A whole new scent wafted toward his nose—sickly sweet and sour at the same time. Was this how humans smelled in their natural habitat?

  Looking up, the human male said, “Oh. Fuck.”

  The female, equally as pungent, crawled over and placed her hand on his chest. Either she ignored Berus or hadn’t noticed him looming over them in the dark.

  “Are you,” she giggled, “all right?”

  The human male’s eyes went round and he swallowed hard. “Um. There’s…um a large—”

  “Um, um,” she mocked him. “What’s the matter? You look like your wife caught—”

  Berus shuffled his feet. The intention was to paw the ground until realizing he no longer had cloven-hooves. He growled instead and balled his hands.

  She glanced at him and crawled back. “Oh shit.” Her cleavage hung out of the top of her clothing. He’d learned long ago female flesh only mildly interested him. Even as a bull-faced demon, he had urges but he didn’t seem to have any preferences when it came to rutting. Animal-headed demons reproduced and hid the infants from the Demon Ruler. But that sort of thing never seemed like a good idea to Berus. He liked his singularity.

  The human man put his hands out in front of him. “I don’t want any trouble, man.”

  Berus seized the male around the neck and lifted him off the ground. Unable to speak, he kicked his legs, prying at Berus’s hands.

  “You’re killing him. Let him go!” the female shouted. Berus cranked his hand tighter around the male’s throat. “No…wait a minute. Let him hang there for a minute or two. He deserves it.” Using the wall, she stood and ventured closer to the only escape route.

  “Y-you want want me to k-kill him?”

  “What?” she asked. “Why, does he owe you money or something?”

  Crunch.

  Berus dropped the human male; his head flopped on the limp neck. He lay sprawled on the ground in an unnatural position.

  “Oh, my God! What the hell did you do that for?” Shaking her head, she backed away with her palms up.

  He shrugged. “Mmm.”

  “No!” The female spun when he lunged for her. He easily caught her by the hair and swung her around so she faced him. “W-what do you want? I don’t have any money.”

  Berus grinned. He saved his stuttering words. His kind possessed a toxin that could be used to help control the minds of Ephemeral Spirits. She wouldn’t be powerless. He could only give her one rule that she must comply with and he needed a guide to this realm. Berus held her head back by her hair. He forced her mouth open with his other hand. Tears ran down her cheeks, her body trembling. Saliva filled his mouth and he spat it into hers. She gagged but didn’t swallow. He drooled some more between her lips, forcing her to gulp it down or choke. Sobs racked her as the serum slid into her stomach. With his hand still tangled in her dark hair, he pushed her back. He eyed the center of her chest, made a fist, and punched her sternum, the force cracking the bone. Her heart stopped beating.

  Her body crumpled to the ground. Her soul stayed upright in his clutched hand. She looked down and felt her chest. Her brow furrowed. “What the—didn’t you punch me?”

  Their eyes met. He released her hair. “Y-You are are are to-to be my guide.”

  She shook her head, yet stayed where she stood. His serum worked quickly. The female looked at him and cocked her head. “Guide for what?”

  “Earth.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Are you serious?”

  Berus’s skin prickled. Shadow-demons’ hollow screams pierced the air. The female doubled over and her knees hit the ground. She rolled around, covering her ears. His fellow demons crept toward him. The male human soul bellowed as the stinging black tendrils snaked into its body’s orifices and plucked him free of the Earthly shell. Torture awaited this Damned inside Netherworld. Berus briefly wondered what the human had done to deserve what was to come. Not that he cared.

  At his feet, the female cried. A coil from one of the Shadows slapped her arm, testing Berus. “Mine,” he growled, and the vine shrank back, hissing. He needed to get his guide away from the Shadow-demons; they wouldn’t chase them even if she was destined for his home realm. Their time on Earth and the distance they traveled from their temporary portal was limited. They would be back though. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he yanked her off the ground. She whimpered.

  He walked with her backside pressed to his front. Metal contraptions whizzed by on wheels. Bright blue light shone on the ground. This dimension puzzled him, however, Berus had a strong intellect and adapted quickly to his new environment. He glanced up and back and forth. Tall structures towered over him on both sides. Berus had learned a few things from the huma
n souls that entered Netherworld and had spoken with many of the demons Aba sent to Earth from time to time. He’d asked them to describe the realm. Each of their stories varied. Some talked about tall plants called trees and others mentioned what was called a city. And from the descriptions, he knew this was a city. The structures were buildings and humans lived in them.

  She squirmed in his arms. “I can walk, you know.”

  He sighed instead of talking. His stuttering had already gotten on his own nerves. How was he supposed to communicate effectively with the human? Berus lowered her to the ground, allowing her to slide through his hands. He didn’t let go; he palmed her breasts, only dimly aware of it.

  “Um…do you mind?” she asked.

  He grunted and marched her forward until they were clear of the buildings. People walked by them from both directions, several leering or giving him a wide berth. He raised his brows. Didn’t he look just as the humans? Removing his hands from her, he observed how the humans reacted to him.

  To his right a door opened beneath a bright blue tube of light bent into symbols. A sign of some sort bolted to the building. A male human…no, an angel, emerged from the building. His wings had a grayish tint. Berus stepped around his guide and faced the angel head on. Long hair partially covered the male’s face. The angel flipped his hair out of his eyes. Their gazes locked for a moment or a millennium. Then the angel flushed and ducked his head. Something stirred inside Berus. Hardening. Breathing became difficult as his chest tightened. The winged one seemed familiar but he couldn’t imagine how or why until he came forward. Berus inhaled deeply while the angel walked past him. His scent. His eyes. Gray with yellow surrounding the pupils. Everything came together.

  Jeremiah…

  Berus watched his back then profile as he looked left and right. When there was a break in the flow, Jeremiah jogged across the expanse with racing wheeled metal contraptions.