A Dangerous Fury (The Sentinel Demons Book 3)

by J. S. Scott

  A Dangerous Fury

  The Sentinel Demons: Book Three

  Copyright © 2015 by J. S. Scott

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews. This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-10: 1-939962-55-2

  ISBN-13: 978-1-939962-55-3

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Contact Page

  “The Sentinel Demons—A History”

  AUTHOR—FROM THE PRIVATE JOURNALS OF

  DR. TALIA MARIS-WINSTON, PHD

  Many people believe that demons are evil spirits, possessing humans, taking over their minds and bodies until they are nothing but a shell, a vessel for the evil entity that dwells inside them. What most humans don’t know is that there are also other types of demons, physical beings created thousands of years ago, during a period of time when demons came to rule the Earth, having been set loose by careless gods who used them for chaos and revenge. The gods created them in so great a number that they finally had to confine all their creations to a demon realm, a prison that could contain them. Said gods, who are now considered nothing more than myth, and whose vanity was endless, adamantly refused to destroy the demons—to annihilate all of them would be an admission that what the deities had done was actually wrong. All-powerful, all-knowing gods and demigods did not make errors. They themselves declared it impossible. And how could they destroy their own magic, lose creatures that might be needed later? After all, the gods were usually at war, and what if they needed their evil creations for weapons? So instead, the demons stayed confined to the demon realm, a place where no god would venture—a realm of such vile evilness, such toxicity and so malodorous, that no selfish deity could tolerate visiting.

  The realm was hidden, situated between Earth and Hades, a place where the demons remained, multiplied, and grew in strength while the gods ignored their existence. Unfortunately, ignoring such heinous immortals eventually created utter chaos, the demons finally gaining enough power to leave the demon realm and create havoc on an Earth that was, by that time, inhabited by a large population of humans. These demons became known as the Evils.

  Devastation ruled, humans being taken in large numbers, disappearing in droves. The balance between good and evil tipped, evil ruling the planet, creating a rift that not even the gods themselves could fix. Desperate to restore sanity to an insane world, the gods tried in vain to destroy the vile beasts that upset the equilibrium, finally putting aside their vanity in favor of survival. But it was too late; the demon population was too large, too powerful, and the egotistic gods weren’t about to venture near the Evils to destroy them.

  Desperate, the deities banded together and created a new breed of demon to fight the Evils; the newcomers’ souls would still be dark, but their purpose would be to protect humans from becoming extinct, bringing good and evil back into balance. These newly created Sentinel demons blended in, appearing human…but they weren’t. They were magical beings, although they adapted and took on more facets of humanity as they evolved. Having given the guardian demons the power to recruit humans and thus replace Sentinels lost in the battle between good and evil, the gods no longer needed to be bothered with their “annoying little problem” and went to war with each other once again, losing power as the centuries passed and humans ceased to worship them. However, the Sentinels carried on, striving to protect the human population, governing themselves and growing in magical powers, even though the gods had embedded a set of rules into the Sentinels’ magic—supposed fail-safes imposed to keep the guardian demons in check. Still, the Sentinels brought balance back to the planet in spite of the stifling rules, finding ways to bend them or work around them, angry that the only rule imposed on the Evils was that human victims could not initially be taken by force, or coerced via lies. But manipulation was easy for an Evil, and once a human had agreed to an Evil’s bargain, there was no end to the torture the heinous demons could impose upon the duped individual in order to increase their own strength.

  So…are all demons evil? They are all dark at their core, and have some degree of inherent wickedness…but demons were not all created equal.

  Evils and Sentinels are both demons, engaging to this day in a battle of good versus evil that has been going on for thousands of years, a war that most humans are blissfully unaware even exists. However, for the small percentage of individuals who actually have encounters with demons…their lives will never be the same.

  Hunter Winston had never been a pleasant man, even on a good day. And today wasn’t remotely close to being one of those good days.

  Even when he was human, he’d been a bastard, a man more concerned with his own pleasures than anything else in his life. And as a Sentinel, he hadn’t changed a bit.

  “Fuck!” He wasn’t sure what the hell was guarding this woman he was seeking, but it seemed like he took one step forward and two steps back, never getting any closer to the coordinates Drew had given him.

  Honestly, he’d rather be lopping off the heads of Evils right now, but he still had a thread of honor left—albeit deeply buried—a part of him that owed a debt to Kristoff for saving his life. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure if being spared had actually been a blessing or some sort of hell that he’d been living in for well over a hundred years.

  He kept moving, feeling like he’d landed in some sort of enchanted land: the kind with flesh-eating plants, carnivorous beasts, and other assorted obstacles meant to keep everything and everyone out.

  He couldn’t transport, which really pissed him off. He’d gotten his powers back, only to lose them in this shithole of an area…again.

  Was he in another realm? Or was this particular space on the planet really enchanted? He didn’t have a goddamn clue. He wasn’t in the human realm of Washington, and he wanted to get the hell out of here worse than he’d wanted anything in his life, other than to slay Evils.

  Kill. Kill. Kill.

  The impulse to annihilate Evils was pounding at him relentlessly, and he was losing his will to keep up this senseless trek.

  He swatted at another plant, feeling more like he was in the jungle rather than an unpopulated area in the state of Washington. If he had a little dog named Toto, he’d be telling him that they weren’t in Washington anymore. Problem was, he wasn’t Dorothy, he didn’t have ruby shoes, and he couldn’t give a shit less if he got home anymore.

  All he wanted—all he needed—was to slay Evils until the pounding in his head went away.

  Kill. Kill. Kill.

  But the vision of Talia’s pleading look and the debt he owed Kristoff made him keep moving on, every step he took getting heavier. He was like a human again, most of his powers gone, and he was beaten all to hell from the days he’d spent trying to claw through the hazardous environment.

  “Who the hell is thi
s woman, anyway?” he growled, flinching as a tiny bird with razor-sharp teeth took a hunk of skin off his throat. Followed by another, and then another.

  He swatted them away and ran a hand down his neck, cursing as he stared down at his fingers that were now heavily stained with blood.

  “How much blood loss can a powerless Sentinel take before he can’t go any further?” Hunter wondered aloud, angry that he was stuck here. Shit, he was angry all the time. It was a normal state of being for him, but he was even more irate and irritated than his usual pissed off self.

  Kill. Kill. Kill.

  The slamming force of being compelled to dust Evils was worse than it had ever been. And he wasn’t sure how long he could ignore it. He became more feral every moment that he wasn’t lopping off the heads of the Evils.

  Hunter swayed as he plowed through more foliage, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer.

  There was no way out.

  There was no way in.

  Was he going to end up stuck here forever?

  Kill. Kill. Kill.

  The hammering in his head turned to a loud buzz, and he stumbled over a fallen tree, landing on his knees. He could see his own blood starting to cover the ground, and fall in rivulets from his broken body.

  Gotta keep going. Keep moving, asshole, or you’re toast. You’ll be lost in this never-ending bad horror flick forever.

  The thought of staying there, hairy beasts with lethal teeth pecking at his body, nearly got him on his feet, but not quite. He stumbled again, landing in a mass of gel that he’d fought before and won. Now, he wasn’t sure if he still had enough strength to get out of it this time.

  “I’m not going to die this way,” he growled, wondering if he’d really ever die, or just live in this continual nightmare. He was immortal. Or was he human again?

  He fought the deathtrap of the lethal, thick, gooey substance he was mired in, but eventually lost the fight, sinking into darkness as the clear gel turned to red from Hunter’s blood.

  He should have arrived by now.

  The goddess, Athena, played with the tip of her long, blonde braid absently as she paced the great hall of her home on the Olympic Peninsula. Being a deity of wisdom, knowledge, and truth, her anxiety was unusual for an entity that was usually calm and serene.

  Something’s wrong. Kristoff isn’t answering me, and Hunter has failed to arrive. I can feel the balance of good and evil tipped abnormally in favor of the Evils.

  “For a goddess of wisdom, I certainly don’t know very much,” she whispered in frustration, her senses telling her disaster would strike soon if it wasn’t somehow prevented by the Sentinels.

  Athena had no idea exactly why she needed Hunter here physically; she just knew his presence was critical to the survival of the Sentinels. Hunter had always been integral to the stasis between the Evils and the Sentinel demons. The angry Sentinel had paid the price for his screwed-up destiny, taking punishment after punishment until he was near the edge of his sanity. Athena had been relieved when she found out she could help, even though she had yet to learn exactly how she could aid him. Losing Hunter would completely destroy Kristoff, and the demon king meant more to her than any other person on the planet. Actually, Kristoff was the only person she knew in the universe now, but her affection for the demigod-turned-Sentinel-demon king had always been strong.

  Annoyed with the fact that she hadn’t gotten more information, she tugged hard on her braid. Most of her knowledge came through dreams or sudden, blinding revelations while she was awake, and the visions weren’t getting any clearer. Lately, more often than not, information came to her via an oracle, simply the echo of a whisper that sounded like one of the Moirai putting knowledge into her mind. Today, the sister Fates were strangely, eerily quiet, and even more distant than usual. All she knew was that Hunter needed to be divested of the burden he had carried for so long, that he was on the very edge of destruction, and that she was capable of helping him find peace and strength again—exact resolution unknown!

  “How?” she murmured aloud, wishing for some kind of clarification. “Give me the information I need,” she pleaded with the Fates, hating herself for begging. A goddess didn’t beg…she demanded. Unfortunately, she didn’t have the power she once had, and her sense of urgency was prodding at her like a thousand little needles in her skin.

  Athena strained to understand, but no knowledge was entering her mind. The only thing she could sense was danger.

  “Kat and Zach, Drew and Talia…they’re all part of a bigger picture,” she mused, as she finally sat down on a white sofa and spread her pristine, white gown around her legs. “Where are my dreams? Why am I not able to visualize what I need to know?” A sense of helplessness and dread was swamping her, and they were unfamiliar feelings for her. Once, she’d been one of the most powerful deities in existence. Now, she was—for lack of a better word—a wimp.

  Athena had no doubt she was growing weak, her visions no longer as clear as they used to be. Her power had slowly faded over the thousands of years she’d resided here. That fact wasn’t exactly surprising considering that no one worshipped her anymore. Technically, she should have probably ceased to exist thousands of years ago, like her family and fellow deities. The Sentinels were the only thing holding her here now, her connection with them as their creator. Should the balance tip too far toward evil, she would completely fade from existence, and evil would reign supreme.

  That is not going to happen!

  Oh, not that she’d really mind going to her final rest. After spending century after century alone, she was ready to go to the kingdom of the dead. At least she’d have company in the Elysian Fields, although she wasn’t too sure how accepting the gods would be of her presence there after what she’d done. However, no matter how much she hated her endless solitude, she was here for the Sentinels, and would remain here until she was no longer needed.

  Would that time ever come?

  She sensed that it would…and then she’d have a dream or information was relayed to her that contradicted the idea that she would one day leave this home to go to her final rest. The mansion where she had resided for thousands of years had become more like a prison than a dwelling with each passing century.

  Concentrating hard, Athena once again tried to summon Kristoff, but he wasn’t hearing her commands. There was no animation, no answering life at the other end of her communication. The request meant for Kristoff was going out to the cosmos, reaching…no one.

  “Dammit!” Athena cursed just because she could. She’d picked up a lot of interesting phrases from the television once it had been invented and she’d been able to manifest one of the devices for herself. Watching television and reading current books was her only real connection with the outside world except Kristoff. Watching the world as it was now on the TV was fascinating to her. Time had passed her by endlessly, and the world had changed so much to her eyes that it was unrecognizable. Were the depictions on the television really the way the world was today?

  Thump! Thump! Thump!

  Athena catapulted up from the sofa as the unfamiliar sound reverberated through the enormous hall.

  Thump! Thump! Thump!

  The noise was coming from the heavy wooden doors to the outside world, an entrance that she rarely even opened because she couldn’t stray from the invisible fortress. Nobody ever came to visit except Kristoff, and he didn’t exactly knock. The demon king teleported to her with his magic, and only when summoned out of respect for her privacy.

  “Like I need any more privacy,” she grumbled as she strode toward the front door. She’d spent thousands of years here alone with only the plants in the solarium for company. Talking to greenery and flowers got old after a while, but it was the closest she could actually get to be unconfined and outdoors.

  The light slippers on her feet were nearly soundless as she walked through th
e marbled foyer, stopping before the entrance.

  It has to be Hunter. No one else can even see this place. Finally. Maybe I can get some news of Kristoff.

  Athena threw open the door and stopped short, opening and closing her mouth as she gawked at the creature in front of her. Covered in blood, his body and face torn and broken, she knew it had to be…

  “Hunter?” she said in a soft whisper, empathy for him and whatever trauma he’d suffered softening her goddess heart.

  The only thing Athena could recognize were a pair of dark eyes that had to belong to Hunter, signature Sentinel demon eyes. What was left of the being in front of her honestly horrified her. “You’re injured badly,” she told him as she reached gently for an arm that was probably broken in several places. If Hunter was human, he’d be dead. As a Sentinel, he was in excruciating pain, and quite frankly, Athena was stunned that the terribly injured man/demon in front of her was still standing. “Come in,” she urged, trying to get him into the house. Dropping the hand she held out to him for fear of hurting him more by touching him, Athena stepped aside, hoping the mammoth Sentinel could make it into her residence on his own steam. She might have to resort to magic, but she knew it would drain her dry. Her power was getting dangerously low.

  Hunter swayed but stayed on his feet, his intense, unnerving gaze never leaving her face. “Demon. Kill,” he rasped in a guttural, barely audible voice.

  “There are no demons here—” Her words were cut off abruptly by Hunter as he lunged at her with a move an injured Sentinel like him shouldn’t possess.

  Athena suddenly felt her body fly across the foyer, the gigantic Sentinel clasping her waist in an iron grip that he shouldn’t be capable of at the moment. Flat on her back, she watched him above her, mesmerized, as scarlet rivulets ran off his face and gravity carried them into a steady drip onto her body. Her white gown was already saturated in Hunter’s blood before she finally demanded, “Get. Off. Me.” She didn’t want to hurt him, but she wasn’t going to lie underneath a Sentinel who had clearly lost his sanity along with a massive amount of blood.