Bound by Legend: A Bound Novel

by A. D. Trosper

  Morgan didn’t feel the same way. Her stomach lurched at the very thought of drinking demon blood.

  After a stretch of silence, Lucian continued, “She became half-channel, half-demon. Most hybrids are half human, half demon. Jaxciel, too, became part demon. An unnatural mix of dark angel, channel, and demon.”

  “Wait.” Morgan pushed herself into a sitting position. “How is Mercy still half-channel? And how the hell is Jax still part dark angel and channel? I thought those powers were given by the Higher Powers?”

  “The powers are given while the baby is still in womb, at the same time the soul is given. For good or evil, they are permanent.”

  “What about when Jax dies? Can’t they just deal with him then? Why keep sending him back to be reborn?”

  Lucian sat up and sighed. “Jaxciel has never died. He’s part demon. He won’t die unless he is killed or chooses to embrace his dark angel side, at which point he will begin to age beyond the point of maturity and will eventually pass into waiting where he will be judged for his actions.”

  “And then the Higher Powers can toss him into permanent death.” Morgan said.

  “Not necessarily,” Lucian said with a shake of his head as he took her in his arms and held her close in a comfortable embrace. “The will of the Higher Powers is not for any of us to understand. It’s possible, if he ever embraces his dark angel heritage and one day stands before them, they will see something different than we do. They may send him to permanent death, they may condemn him to eternity in a pit of the Underworld, or they may send him back to earth for reason’s unknown to us.”

  Morgan tried to think of a good enough reason to send a part-demon back to Earth and finally realized that Lucian was right. The Higher Powers were beyond her understanding. Though revolted by Mercy’s choice, Morgan looked back at her own pain and the offers made by the demons to make it so she never had to feel it again and, for a brief moment, she could understand why Mercy had given in. Pain, whether emotional or physical, that went on long enough could drive people to do all kinds of things they thought they would never do.

  Morgan was sure she would never take such a path. However, without having walked in Mercy’s skin, without understanding the depth of her pain, the depth of her desperation to end it, it wasn’t her place to judge Mercy.

  Jax was another story. He chose to remain an agent of the Underworld when he clearly had more than one path open to him. Even so, she shouldn’t judge him either. To hell with that. The way he’d choked her and threatened Jake, she hoped a hell hound bit him on the ass and the bite festered with infection. Not a proper channel attitude, but since when had she cared about that?

  They lapsed into silence for a long while, each lost in their own thoughts.

  Morgan’s mind turned away from the story of Jax and focused on her own problems. Lucian being the biggest. Eventually, the silence would have to end, and if he was going to truly understand her, she would have to open up. Her pulse picked up at the thought and she fought down sudden panic.

  “Morgan? Are you all right?”

  She moved his arm and looked around for her clothes. Her pants and bra lay in a corner; she scooped them up. Her shirt was nowhere to be seen. “I’m fine. I just need a shower and food.”

  “You and me both.” He flashed her a wicked grin. “You want some help?”

  “No.” Morgan held out a hand as if to ward him off and said with a laugh, “You may have more stamina because of what you are, but I don’t. If you ‘help’ me, I may well die.”

  His masculine chuckle filled the room as she stood and padded toward the bathroom off the hallway. A dark lump of fabric on the floor near the top of the stairs caught her attention. So that’s where her shirt went. It could be picked up after her shower. And after she’d brushed her teeth. A mixture of morning breath and old whiskey wasn’t exactly a pleasant smell she was sure.

  After a nice hot shower and a thorough brushing of her mouth, Morgan wrapped herself in a thick towel and opened the bathroom door. Lucian leaned against the wall across the hall, his arms crossed over his bare chest, damp golden hair hanging loose around his face.

  “You look good in a towel, and even better without it.” His voice was full humor and innuendo as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  Heat flushed her face as she skirted around him. “You just behave.”

  His chuckle followed her as she dashed into her bedroom and shut the door. Flustered, she yanked open her drawers in search of clothes. They were empty. Crap. She’d forgotten they were all downstairs packed into a suitcase. How could she forget that? Her heart was so full of warmth her mind just wanted to bask in it.

  What was wrong with her? Her heart whispered it was love. Her practical side muttered about losing her head because Lucian returned her feelings and thought she was beautiful on top of it. Maybe it was a silly thing to get all warm and fuzzy over, but Morgan had rarely ever considered how she looked. There had always been far more pressing matters to worry about like finding something to eat, shelter from the cold, trying to find the necessary monthly needs of a young woman, and the dangers of the street. Who had time to worry about hair, nails, and complexions when faced with all of that? Not that she thought herself unattractive.

  Now, in the safety of Lucian’s presence and with his gaze filled with emotion and lust, Morgan was glad he was pleased with what he saw. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to want a hair and nails kind of girl, because she definitely wasn’t one and likely never would be. She had been shaped differently by life.

  She stared at the open and empty drawers. Yeah, she had been shaped so different she was broken. Did Lucian really understand that she was pieces glued back together? It was hard to imagine someone accepting her so fully. Instinctively, she tried to raise a wall around her heart. It was too good to be true and she knew all too well how that went.

  Lucian went back to his room and pulled a shirt on, then walked back down the hall. He waited outside her door for a couple of minutes. Had she seen the suitcase he’d placed on the bed while she was in the shower? “Morgan?”

  He opened the door enough to poke his head around it. She stood looking at the empty dresser with a forlorn expression on her face. Lucian stepped into the room. “What’s wrong?”

  She didn’t look at him. “I forgot all of my clothes were downstairs.”

  Why was she pulling away from him? He could sense the emotional distance she was trying to put between them. It was in her expression, her stance, in the very air about her. “Your suitcase is on the bed.”

  Morgan turned, a look of surprise flashed across her face. “Oh. I didn’t even see it there.”

  “I’m not sure how you missed it.” He crossed the room until he was in front of her. “Is there something else bothering you?”

  She sighed and looked at him for the first time since he opened the door, her hands clutching the towel like it was a shield. “You.”

  “I’m bothering you?” He was completely at a loss as to how to interpret her statement.

  “Yes.” Morgan brushed past him to where the suitcase sat at the edge of the bed and began trying to unzip it with one hand while still clinging to the towel with the other.

  Frowning, Lucian watched her for a minute before stepping forward to help. What was wrong with her? Or better yet, what had he done to make her act like this and why had the Higher Powers given him a soulmate that was so damn confusing?

  After the suitcase was unzipped and laying open, he folded his arms. “Care to elaborate on that?”

  “No. Yes.” She snatched some articles of clothing and faced him again. “You aren’t real. And that’s a problem because I already feel too much for you and when reality comes back, it’s going to hurt enough without adding to it.”

  “I’m not real?” Lucian studied her as a smile tugged at the side of his mouth. “Well, you could have fooled me. Here I’ve been running around fighting demons for too many lives to count and now I find ou
t it was all a dream or something.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “No, actually, I don’t.”

  “Lucian,” she said with a sigh. “Guys like you don’t exist. People like you don’t exist.”

  “I’m not the only dark angel you’ve met, why is it suddenly so hard to believe we exist?” Truly confused now, he waited for her answer.

  “I’m not talking about that, I’m talking about you. Nobody has ever accepted me for who I am flaws and all. Not like you have. Not even Arabrim fully accepted me—”

  “He should have.”

  She continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “—and to top it off, you’ve never so much as raised your hand to me. People that accept you for who you are and never try to hurt you, whether intentional or not, just don’t exist. So that leaves this as some sort of elaborate dream my brain has concocted because I’ve become unhinged or something.”

  “Morgan,” Lucian reached out and gently grasped her upper arms, looking her directly in the eye. “This is not a dream and I am real. You are who you are and I don’t expect you to be any different or act any different. No matter what happens or what you decide to do next, I will always be there, ensuring your safety. And your happiness, if you will let me. I will always protect you.”

  He ran his hands up her arms then cupped her face. “And, I will never raise a hand against you for any reason or hurt you. Those are my promises to you. It’s up to you to see them for the reality they are.”

  Leaning down, he brushed his lips against hers. “I’m going to get us something to eat.”

  He left her to get dressed and to think over what his words. What had happened to make her so jaded at such a young age? How many people had hurt her? Anger coursed through his veins at the thought of anyone intentionally bringing her pain.

  Morgan was a good person, why wasn’t she given a better life? Lucian pushed the last thought away. It wasn’t up to him to question the motives of the Higher Powers. Maybe she needed the strength she’d developed because of her life in order to face what was to come.

  After filling Lucy’s dish with dog food and making sure she had fresh water, Lucian walked out the front door, his thoughts still on Morgan as he slid into his car.

  Morgan slowly pulled her clothes on, careful to transfer the tiny Rainbow Dash, that had grown to mean more to her than Lucian could possibly imagine, into the pocket of her clean jeans then headed down the stairs. Opening the sliding glass door, she let Lucy out and followed her into the late afternoon sunshine. While the dog padded around the backyard, Morgan lit a cigarette and took a long pull on it.

  Lucian’s words, his promises, chased each other around in her mind. Life had thrown so much at her; maybe Lucian was its way of making it up to her. It was still hard to believe even if his actions since she had met him backed up his words.

  As she pulled in another drag, the day darkened. Lucy growled. Shadows slithered across the lawn. The air grew oppressive and thick with the smell of sulfur. Morgan stood, letting the cloud of smoke out of her lungs as the cigarette fell from her fingers.

  Lucy crossed the yard to stand beside Morgan, hackles raised and snarls ripping from her throat. Morgan shoved the growling animal into the house, slamming the sliding glass door shut behind her.

  The shadows in the backyard took on the shape of massive black dogs with a spiny ridge running along their bowed frames. Red eyes gleamed from their sunken faces. Their sparse, spiny hair didn’t hide ropy muscles and gaunt forms. As they drew closer to the door, heavy jaws opened revealing dagger-like teeth.

  Lucy barked, the sound ferocious. Morgan stared at them unable to move. Her pulse pounded in her ears and her breath froze in her chest. Hellhounds were rarely unleashed into the physical world and when they were, their prey had little hope. Once they had the scent, they never quit following it. They could run indefinitely without tiring.

  Hellhounds weren’t something a mere demon could command without permission from their creator. Because they weren’t truly a demon, it was almost impossible to banish them. It took a tremendous amount of power, far more than she had. It was one thing to know they had been here and might have a passing interest in her. It was another thing entirely to see them in the flesh and staring at her.

  Morgan reached down and gripped Lucy’s collar, dragging the dog with her as she finally got her legs to work. She ran for the front door knowing it was useless. Lucy suddenly stopped a few steps from the heavy wooden door, bracing against forward movement with all four legs.

  No way out then. Morgan’s breath came in short gasps as she tried not to panic. Not out, maybe up. Turning, she ran up the stairs pulling Lucy with her. Pausing at her bedroom, she pushed Lucy in and shut the door. The hellhounds were here for her, not the dog.

  Morgan ran down to the end of the hall. She jumped and grabbed the short chain to the attic space door. The wooden stairs unfolded as it came down. Morgan climbed up them. Thankful to find a little bit of plywood laid around the top, she turned and reached for the stairs. Glass shattered on the main floor. Sweat ran down the sides of her face. The stairs started to pull up easily only to be yanked back by a heavy black paw.

  More of the hounds moved down the hall, their rat-like tails trailing behind them. Red eyes gleamed at her. The hound at the bottom of the steps bared its teeth and Morgan nearly gagged on the fetid reek that wafted from its mouth.

  She scrambled across the low attic space, careful to stay on the ceiling beams. The hellhound navigated the steep steps without issue. Smoke curled from its nostrils when it gained the attic and the stench of its breath filled the space.

  Her phone! Morgan reached for her back pocket and found nothing. Shit. Where was it? She closed her eyes for a brief second as her last hope fell away. On Lucian’s nightstand. Where she’d left it. Of course.

  She stared the stalking hellhound in the eye and raised a circle around herself. The hound howled with rage. The sound raised every hair on her body and sent a shiver of dread down her spine. The hound threw itself at the shimmering wall that surrounded her.

  The impact against her power nearly knocked Morgan senseless. Her circle wouldn’t hold for long and when it gave out, she would die. Or perhaps be dragged to the Kalona with the same effect. Her wall, and power, shuddered under another heavy impact. Morgan lost her footing on the beam and fell into the space between.

  The ceiling gave way and she fell through in a shower of sheetrock and insulation, landing with a crash in the garden bathtub in the bathroom off the hallway. Dazed, her power wavered. The hellhound tried to push between the ceiling beams from above, snapping its teeth and snarling when its shoulders were too wide to fit through. Morgan threw herself out of the tub and ran for the door. She slammed it shut and locked it. That wasn’t going to help.

  The door splintered and burst inward under the weight of another hell hound. Morgan braced herself. A second later, the hound crashed into her and they hit the floor with the beast on top. Her hands scrabbled, latched onto, and shoved a wide piece of sheetrock into its open mouth as it came at her. The hound snapped through it and flung it aside. She grabbed the spiny hair at the sides of its face in both hands and tried to push it off, or maybe just hold it back.

  An odd scuffling sound issued from its mouth. It was laughing at her. A thin stream of drool steamed as it dripped from the hound’s lip, burning her skin when it hit her chest. The teeth drew closer, pushing against her hands as if her human strength was nothing. Morgan closed her eyes.

  Suddenly its weight left her as it was ripped away. She watched in horror as Lucian wrestled with the beast. The muscles in his arms bulged as he squeezed it and Latin rolled off his tongue. Its teeth flashed, ripping through the skin of his shoulder. More hounds pushed through the door.

  More afraid for Lucian than herself now, Morgan scrambled to her feet and leapt at one. Her hands barely closed on it and she smashed into the floor. Her head swam and little black dots floated across her vision
. The hound turned on her with a deep, gurgling snarl.

  The one in Lucian’s grasp exploded in a shower of spiny fur. Morgan threw up a hand. Burning pain lanced her arm as several of the hairs pierced her arm. The hound she’d tried to grab lunged at her. Desperate, she kicked at it and landed a lucky blow on its nose. It backed off for a fraction of a second. Another hound burst into the now cramped room. They couldn’t take on the whole pack. They were going to die.

  MORGAN SHOOK HER head in an effort to clear it as another beast crashed into Lucian, then a third. The hound she’d tried to tackle sank its teeth into her forearm and started dragging her out the door. Her skin blistered and bubbled from the hound’s saliva.

  Glass shattered behind her. Desperate, Morgan looked back. The wide mirror that had hung on the wall lay in pieces all over the floor and blood smeared across the counter. Lucian, awash in crimson, barely held off the three hounds that attacked him in unison.

  Her view of the battle cut off as the hound dragged her into the hallway. Tears welled in Morgan’s eyes from the agony in her arm. She blinked them away and focused through it. This thing wasn’t taking her anywhere alive. Throwing her other hand out, she caught hold of the heavy post at the top of the stairs as it started to pull her down them. She twisted her body around so that she was sitting and braced her feet, one against the wall and one against the post.

  The hound snarled and pulled on her arm. Its teeth slid a little, tearing deep grooves in her skin. Morgan blinked against the darkness that threatened to drag her under and smiled at the hound through gritted teeth. “Go ahead, rip it off. I’ve got another. You obviously want me alive or you would’ve killed me already.”

  It bit deeper, its teeth scraping against the bones in her forearm. Sweat beaded on Morgan’s forehead and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Blinking rapidly, she pulled back, driving the teeth deeper. “Might as well take what you can, that’s the most of me you’re getting.”