Four Psychos (The Dark Side Book 1)

by Kristy Cunning

  “I don’t understand you, little spirit,” Kai says on a long breath.

  “I don’t understand me either,” I confess.

  A silence falls over us, and though I’m tempted to go check on Lamar, since he’s alone, unlike the quad, I can’t bring myself to leave. Guess that makes me a masochist.

  Tingles course through my body from all four of them as they get more comfortable. I keep my eyes trained on the cell walls. For whatever reason they haven’t been attacked yet.

  That might have something to do with Lamar’s botched attack. Maybe since their cuffs have popped off, no one—or nothing—has been brave enough to attack them.

  With the cuffs, they should have been easily dispatched, even with all four locked in the same spot at the same time.

  A weird sense of peace settles over me the longer the tingles last. Even Kai falls fast asleep. Though I’m sure none of them have slept much.

  After all, it’s hell in here.

  Chapter 18

  The guys have all fallen asleep, and it’s another one of those times where I feel sleepy. Last time I felt that, I woke up a whole girl.

  My eyes move around the stone cell, and I think about what a terrible idea being whole would be right now.

  Something clanking heavily draws my attention, and I sit straight up when I strain enough to hear Lamar through the cells.

  “Is that all you got?!”

  Looking around, I get in Gage’s ear—since he’s the one who sleeps the most in this lot—and whisper, “Sorry. I need you awake.”

  He jerks, his hand rubbing his eyes as he frowns and looks around. “What the hell? I was finally sleeping without the nightmares for a change,” he growls.

  “Well, good. But do it when I get back. Something’s going on, and I can’t leave with all of you asleep.”

  I stand to my feet, and he leaps to his. “You can’t leave at all,” he tells me, eyes narrowing as he glares at me.

  “Actually, I’m the only one who can,” I tell him as I pass right through him.

  He still tries to grab me, knowing he can’t.

  “Don’t fucking leave, Keyla,” he gripes, but I rush through the walls anyway.

  Just as I land in Lamar’s cell, another man appears. This one is a different kind of guard. His mask is white leather, and his wardrobe is red.

  Lamar starts to do something, but the guy holds up his hands as a show of surrender. “I’m here on your prince’s behest,” the man states, tearing his sleeve up to show some sort of marking. “Lucifer has requested an audience with the two of you.”

  I quickly pat Lamar’s arm, reminding him of the fact he’s got those escape words and he’s about to go before the devil, who might find that very suspicious if he’s so innocent.

  Though I feel absolutely nothing, Lamar subtly startles and tugs down his sleeve to cover the markings before the man sees them.

  “Try something and I will kill you,” Lamar cautions.

  The man in the white mask nods, then his mask turns red. Totally creepy.

  I reach for Lamar, touching his back, and finding it peculiar he stays relaxed instead of stiffened.

  In a blink, we’re out of the room, and suddenly we’re alone with Manella, who is walking toward us in a brightly lit, elegant red room. He runs a hand through his hair, a small smile on his lips.

  “My father has agreed to a meeting, and he seems fairly lucid today. He even called for me himself, and asked me to once again tell him about the night you were accused and your alleged true whereabouts. After I told him, he nodded and immediately sent for you.”

  Lamar doesn’t look as excited as Manella, and that sends a prickle of dread up my spine.

  “If he’s lucid enough to read lies, he’ll release you,” Manella goes on.

  Lamar gives him a tight smile. “We can only hope, my prince.”

  Manella jerks Lamar to him in a pre-celebratory embrace, and Lamar hugs him back, though his is a sadder, more desperate hold.

  It makes me almost suspicious, but yet there’s no guilt in his eyes. Only trepidation.

  Manella pulls back, clearing his throat even as he keeps that boyish, carefree smile on his face. He looks like a completely different man.

  “They’ll send for you when it’s your time to join us,” he says, then grabs Lamar’s face between both his hands and kisses him hard before jerking back again, that smile spreading.

  Lamar just returns a smile that’s so beautifully tragic it makes my heart hurt. Manella, oblivious, turns and darts out the doors, leaving them wide open as he vanishes from sight.

  As soon as he’s gone, Lamar clears his throat and straightens his clothing out in front of the mirror. In a blink, he looks clean and pressed, not a wrinkle on the clothes that were tattered only seconds ago.

  “I’m not sure what you are,” he says, causing me to look around for someone else in the room. It’s just me. My gaze swings back as he blows out a breath and continues. “But if you’re a gift from Lilith, I can only assume today I pay the price. Lucifer hasn’t been lucid in many decades. It’d be much too hopeful to believe it’s as Manella believes today.”

  Is he really talking to me right now?

  “If you’re my gift, I will pay the price without falter. But I only request that my damnation be his salvation, and you move onto protecting him without penalty.”

  That really makes my heart hurt.

  He believes Lilith’s price for protection is now the cost of his life. The true gift was borrowed time with Manella and seeing him happy one last time.

  As happy as a man who is certain his true love is about to be his again.

  I hate Lilith.

  If I’m everyone’s gift and curse, I hope a day comes when I’m able to save her, just so she can be damned in one way or another.

  But as it stands, everyone I’ve protected has faced a consequence.

  Five men I’ve saved. Five men have been locked in hell’s throat. One of those men may die today.

  Now his last wish is that I protect the one he’s leaving behind without consequence. And I have no way of telling him that if I could control it, none of them would suffer.

  “You will be busy in this trying time, I’m afraid,” he says a little quieter.

  I wonder if I’ll be able to stop the devil from killing him.

  Highly doubtful.

  Furious and hurting, I follow him when a red masked man comes to collect. I’m assuming these are the royal guards, unlike the hell guards with black masks.

  It’s like the death mile with all the eerie paintings of the six royal devil spawns hanging every few inches. Paintings of them throughout time. One has Hera and all her blonde haired beautiful glory in front of the Trojan horse with a deviant smirk on her face.

  I stop to try and make sense of the plaque underneath, and the weird symbols turn into actual words. Blinking, I hurry and read, in case the words disappear again.

  Helen of Troy. A great war between two great countries, and the ruin of two feared or deeply respected kings.

  Body count—massacre

  Fear factor—little to none

  Historical presence—heavy impact

  Is this their weird Hall of Sick Fame dedicated to their earthly visits or whatever? Was she seriously Helen of Troy at one point?

  I jog down the hall, but halt when I see another plaque hanging under a picture of a very sinister, yet highly sophisticated portrait of Cain in a top hat.

  He’s tipping the hat with very bloody hands.

  Jack the Ripper. Leaving behind a legacy that still lives on even in new generations, and haunting of the minds of everyone once they hear the tale.

  Body count—low

  Fear factor—deadly hysteria

  Historical presence—notorious impact

  Considering I’d rather not add more reasons to make a run for it before I meet the maker of those psychotic people, I decide not to read anymore plaques.

  I also quit l
ooking at the pictures so that I don’t get curious.

  Out of place in the otherwise white décor, two massive, coal-black doors that tower over me slowly start to open. Sure. Not ominous at all.

  Lamar takes a shaky breath, and then he steps inside.

  I try not to piss my pants, because I’m about to be in front of the motherfucking devil.

  Chapter 19

  We move through a short hallway, and Lamar navigates the bit of a maze we’re in like he’s done this countless times. With one quick inhale, he steps into another room, and I follow him.

  My eyes take in the red and black décor, almost feeling cheated with how cliché and obvious it all is. It looks like an office, and the walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves full of books. The room stretches up at least fifty feet, and I spin around, a little overwhelmed by the sheer wealth of knowledge concealed at the fingertips of the devil himself.

  Sensing a presence, I look over just as another set of doors open, and in walks Manella, his bright smile still fixed to his relaxed face. Lamar is so rigid he looks ready to break.

  Manella doesn’t say anything, but he reaches over and grabs Lamar’s hand, his excitement spilling over noticeably.

  My eyes come up just as a debonair, regal man emerges from the same room Manella just exited. Dressed in black slacks and a white silk shirt, he moves toward us, his hands in his pockets as he gracefully glides across the floor, his steps fluid and effortless.

  It’s almost captivating how commanding his presence is.

  I quickly move in front of Lamar on reflex when he steps toward him. A harsh burn spikes through my arms and chest, and I suck in a breath, caught off guard, when he passes through me.

  He stills, and I jerk away from the painful heat he radiates even in my form. Hellfire was doable. Devil fire? Apparently fucking not.

  Whirling around, I see him completely stiffened, unmoving as Manella stares at him with a curious expression.

  Oh no. Oh no no no.

  The devil knows I’m here. Why did I think he wouldn’t be able to at least sense me if I touched him, since Lamar can apparently sense me now?

  Lucifer’s head subtly tilts to the side. His eyes aren’t on Lamar, just staring at nothing in particular, when he asks, “What have you brought to our meeting?”

  Lamar clears his throat. “I believe it to be some protective gift, though I’m not sure who pressed it upon me,” he says, bowing his head before adding, “my king. I can only assume it to be a gift from Lilith.”

  Slowly, Lamar lowers to his knees, and he presses his hands to the floor in a complete bow.

  “You can stand, Lamar. This is a rather informal meeting,” Lucifer states absently, almost as though he remains distracted. By me. The fact I’m in here and the devil knows it.

  I’m going to die the second I get whole, because I’m a freaking idiot.

  Lucifer rubs his chin pensively as he turns to face my direction. I freeze like a deer caught in headlights, but his eyes pass right over me.

  To the untrained eye, he’d look like a refined man in his early forties, with the shine of an old, insightful soul in his eyes. It’s not the feral, evil black eyes you expect to find when you meet the devil. It’s very misleading.

  “Very interesting. I caught wind of some of my guards attacking you in my custody.” He says the words like they’re of no real importance, and that knot of dread increasingly grows in my stomach.

  Lamar frowns, but nods, even though he still hasn’t gotten up from the floor. “Yes, my king,” he states affirmatively.

  “I’ve told you once to stand. I’d rather not repeat myself,” Lucifer drawls.

  Lamar slowly rises to his feet, keeping his eyes lowered as his body visibly vibrates with tension.

  “I don’t particularly enjoy my custody being violated,” Lucifer goes on. “If any custody is protected, it most certainly should be mine. Wouldn’t you think?”

  I can’t tell by his tone if he’s being rhetorical, underhandedly vapid, or just curious.

  Lamar just remains a block of stone, unmoving and silent.

  “Well?” he prompts, casting a sideways glance to Lamar.

  “Father, what are you—”

  “Silence, Manella. I told you not to speak, or I’d ask you to leave,” Lucifer interrupts with an eerily calm tone.

  Manella swallows his words, casting a less certain look toward Lamar.

  “Yes, my king, I would assume your custody would receive the highest protection.”

  Lucifer nods, clapping his hands together once. “I agree.”

  With a wave of his hand, ten men appear in shackles, all of them unmasked to show the horrifying faces. They look to have been burned off and scarred over. I have to look away from the hideously disfigured bodies as well, because those burns scrape every bit of flesh.

  “These ten prison guards had access to your cell. I granted none of them access,” Lucifer says with a bored tone and a lazy shrug.

  Five more men appear in shackles, all of them looking just as gnarled and disfigured as the others. Humans wouldn’t be able to survive such damage. Did this happen recently? Or is this their form after transition?

  I totally get the masks now.

  “These five are the ones I gave access to. One of my most trusted escorts, and four of my most trusted throat guards,” Lucifer goes on.

  He moves closer to the line of ten men. With a dark smirk, he winks, and the men drop to the ground, screams of agony ripping from their throats as they start convulsing. Black liquid oozes from their mouths, eyes and ears as they start gurgling, their screams being silenced as they drown internally.

  Lucifer wipes a bit of black liquid away as though it’s a cumbersome piece of dirt. The droplet falls from his sleeve and splatters to the ground before it’s absorbed and lost from sight.

  The ten dead men disappear from the room, an ominous silence falling over us in their tortured wake.

  Swallowing thickly, I take a step away from the devil. Then another. And another. Until I’m against the wall.

  Lucifer grins wickedly at Lamar. “Now to find out who exactly gave them access. It’s been a long while since I had the ability to hear the lies so easily,” he goes on, turning his attention to the five men.

  The men have no expression as they remain shackled, since their faces are too distorted to relay any sort of emotion.

  “What about you?” he asks the first one.

  “No, my king,” the man immediately says, bowing his head and exposing his throat.

  Lucifer smiles broadly. “Truth,” he says, moving down to the next one.

  The same question and answer are repeated, and this one bows and exposes his throat as well.

  When he moves to the third one, I notice a subtle tension spread through the guard.

  “And you?”

  The guard doesn’t answer as quickly. “No, my king. Never,” he says, bowing his head and exposing his throat.

  “Lie,” the devil says seconds before the man’s head goes rolling.

  Silence again.

  There’s no spraying of blood. No scream of warning. Once second there’s a head, and the next second it’s bouncing around on the ground and rolling to a stop at Lamar’s feet.

  The body falls, jerking the line of shackled men around him closer together, since they’re all chained to each other.

  I follow Lucifer’s gaze to Lamar, and the relief on the prince’s lover’s face is almost instant. The devil can hear a lie, which means he’ll know it was never him.

  The chains disappear, and the men step away from the fallen body before it also vanishes from sight.

  Lucifer shifts his gaze and studies them briefly, before turning his attention to Lamar.

  The four remaining men stand at a militant position, likely waiting to be dismissed.

  “What were your whereabouts on the night the elder was attacked in neutral sanctuary territory?” Lucifer asks him.

  Tears of
pure relief cloud Lamar’s vision as a smile spreads across his lips. “With my prince, my king. I spent the night in his chambers, and woke with him that next morning,” he says, then swiftly bows, his entire body relaxed as he exposes his throat.

  Lucifer glances to Manella. “He is cleared of the charges against him and remains under royal protection. An attack on him is an attack on us all,” Lucifer adds.

  Lamar barely manages to keep from sobbing, remaining in his bowed state. Manella’s eyes glisten as he bows at the waist to his father. “Thank you, Father. Thank you.”

  Lucifer snaps his fingers, and five men walk in. All their gazes search the room, seeing the four men instead of the fifteen originally sent in here. They stiffen and go to attention.

  “Make sure it’s recorded that my son’s lover is exonerated of all charges. And place a royal inquiry into the true killer of the elder. Lamar is being framed, and I’ll not tolerate these games,” Lucifer drawls in a bored tone.

  They all bow, then turn and swiftly walk out the way they came in. The four remaining fellows stay at attention, still waiting to be dismissed.

  “You may return to your chambers with full pardon,” Lucifer says to Lamar. “I’m sure Manella will join you shortly.”

  Lamar moves to his feet slowly, staying bowed at the waist. “Thank you, my king,” he says as he darts a look full of relief and pure joy to Manella.

  Manella nods subtly, his face remaining a stoic mask in front of the devil, though I know he wants to run out with Lamar.

  “You’re dismissed,” Lucifer says to Lamar.

  Lamar bows again, turning to walk out, giving the devil the last word. I quickly follow him out, and watch with a curse as he disappears from sight, likely going to Manella’s chambers.

  Shit.

  Not this again.

  Frustrated, I poke my head back through the door just as Lucifer holds a hand up. All four remaining men burst into flames, and their screams have me jerking my head back, unable to watch.

  Why did he do that?

  I wait until the screams go instantly silent before I peek back in, seeing nothing but ash before it disappears. Lucifer goes to a throne-like chair and takes a seat, getting comfortable as a dark smirk emerges to his lips.