First Kill (Heaven Sent Book 1)

by Mary Abshire

  “Where does the demon go?” His vision started to blur.

  “Where it belongs. Back in hell.”

  “Will it run from me? What if it gets away?”

  “Then you catch it. You have to touch the demon to destroy it.”

  “But I’ve never killed anyone before.” He blinked repeatedly to try and clear the cloudiness from his eyes.

  She patted his arm. “Your first kill will probably be the most difficult, but you’ll find a way. If the council didn’t think you could do this, they would have sent you back on a different mission. Just remember, the humans you’re going to kill are demons. Do whatever it takes to end the human body’s life.”

  His mind started to feel heavy. He rolled his head so he was facing the ceiling.

  “And don’t forget, if you have intercourse with a woman, we’ll know,” she said, her voice sounding distant. “You’ll be forced to stay an extra year for each woman you have sex with.”

  A heavy weight pressed upon his mind, obscuring his thoughts. Feeling tired, he closed his eyelids. He tried to move his arm, but it didn’t budge. His body felt numb.

  “How do I get back?” he mumbled as if he were drunk.

  “Good luck.”

  Her words were soft and angelic, as if they were a whisper in a dream. Light as a feather, he floated in darkness. He repeated his goals in his head to help him remember them. Kill the demons. Touch their souls. No sex.

  How was he ever going to fulfill the terms of his sentence? The thought was his last one before he drifted deeper into the black void.

  Chapter Two

  Emily shoved her shoes into the bag. Her pulse raced as she hurried to get out of the house. She’d already stuffed two other bags with clothes and had taken them down to her car. She stood near her bed and looked around the room, trying to decide what else she should take with her. Although her parents were out of the house and her younger sister, Erin, was away at college, Emily felt the urgency to leave so she could get as far away as she could before they started looking for her.

  The laptop on her desk was coming with her. She headed to grab it. An email message from Troy appeared on the screen. She clicked the link to read it.

  I have a few documents ready. Call me when you’re on the way. T.

  She powered off her computer and then she shut the lid. A picture of her, Troy, and Libby standing in front of lockers sat on her desk by the wall. The photo was taken on their first day of high school. They had wide smiles and happy expressions. She’d known Troy since she was five and he had been her best friend since she was eight after Libby had moved into the fancy Chicago neighborhood, six houses down. The three of them had grown up together and become close. Libby was a better sister than Erin, and Troy was like a brother and sister wrapped into one. She would miss them dearly. But what hurt the most was the fact she’d never see Libby alive again.

  Fighting the grief, she packed her laptop into the computer bag under the desk. The bag was a bit bulky with the stacks of cash she’d withdrawn from her local bank account earlier in the morning. She’d have to be very careful with the case and keep it close to her at all times. Although she had funds in a few other accounts, she didn’t want to end up without cash while she was on the run. Before zipping the bag, she tucked the photo of the three of them inside.

  She set the computer case on her bed before she headed to the bathroom with the bag containing her shoes. Hurrying, she gathered everything she might need. If a little shampoo spilled, well, at least she’d have clean-smelling shoes.

  She paused as she scanned over the pill bottles in one of the drawers. Regret and guilt weighed heavily on her and she swallowed hard. Her mother, a registered nurse, had given her the variety of meds because she’d thought Emily had back issues. Truth be told, the painkillers were for Libby. Emily had given some to her best friend because they’d helped keep her away from harsher drugs, or so Emily had thought. When Emily found out Libby had turned to crack in recent months, she’d stopped giving Libby pills altogether. Emily thought she was helping. She’d never been so wrong in her life. If she’d only kept feeding Libby the painkillers, maybe her best friend wouldn’t have taken an overdose of cocaine less than twenty-four hours ago.

  Emily took her birth control pack before she slammed the drawer. She lifted her gaze to the mirror. The dye job she’d spent several hours working on gave her a completely different look. She’d changed her long, sandy-brown locks with blonde tints to black with blue highlights. Her bangs hung above her eyes. The gothic style chic was new to her, not that it was a bad thing. She’d always wanted to look the part in her youth, but her parents had forbidden it. She was twenty-five now, old enough to do what she wanted. And since she was leaving her family for good, she sure as hell didn’t give a damn what they thought about her.

  Emily strode from the bathroom with her bag in hand. She set it on the bed and surveyed her room one last time. Her desk was clean. Her closest doors were open with bare hangers on the rack and a few pairs of shoes on the floor. She moved to the dresser with the drawers sticking out. As she closed them, she gazed at her jewelry on top. How could she forget all the jewelry Troy had given her? She snatched an old small purse from the top of her closet. Holding it open near the edge of the dresser, she scooted rings, bracelets, and earrings into the bag.

  After she stuffed the purse into the larger bag, she took the computer case and placed the strap across her body so it hung at her side. With a deep breath, she gave her room one last appraisal. She’d grown up in the house, having only briefly lived away when she attended college. She would miss the home, but she wouldn’t miss the shrewd comments or belittlement. She’d spent years saving up and preparing for the day she would walk out the door and never look back. The time had finally arrived. But she wished she was leaving under different circumstances.

  Carrying her shoe and toiletry bag, she left her room. She had one last stop to make before leaving the house for good. She strode down the hall and into her parents’ bedroom. The large room had a king-size bed, two dressers, a television on the wall, and plenty of other furniture. They even had a separate office area for with a desk and small cabinet. Everything was neat and tidy. She stopped at the framed artwork her great grandfather had given her mother and set the bag on the floor. The oil painting showed a scene from the civil war. Men were in the midst of battle. Some were on horses. Others were dead on the ground. Emily hated the picture.

  Taking hold of the right side of the frame, she pulled on it. The hinges made a soft creak as the picture came away from the wall like a book being opened. Hiding behind the painting, inside the wall, was a mid-sized safe. Emily turned the dial to unlock it. She’d memorized the combination after she’d found it in her sister’s diary years ago. Occasionally, when her parents were out, Emily would open the secret vault to check the contents. Her grandmother had left diamonds to Emily and Erin in her will. Emily’s parents held onto the jewels for safekeeping. She’d never taken any, but she’d checked every now and then to make sure her parents hadn’t sold them.

  The lock clicked on the third number. With a gentle push, the door opened. Emily snatched lifted the black pouch and pried the mouth open. She poured the contents into her hand. The diamonds sparkled in the sunlight. Each were a carat. For some reason, her parents had refused to give what had been promised to her. Emily was an adult now. There was no point in storing them in a safe any longer. Half belonged to Emily and the time had come to claim them.

  She separated the diamonds in her hands. There were twenty-five in total. She took twelve and poured them back into the pouch. The remaining thirteen she returned to the safe. As she closed the door, she shoved the bag of diamonds into her laptop case. Now, she was officially ready to go. She returned the picture to the wall, gathered her bag from the floor, and then headed downstairs.

  The cat meowed at her when she strolled into the kitchen. Tinker was a twelve-year-old tortoise shell feline her mother had picke
d out for Erin. The cat spent more time with Emily than her sister. Tinker loved her unconditionally and for that, she’d miss him the most. Pausing, she crouched to the cat’s level. She gave Tinker one last hug, scratch, and kiss.

  “Sorry, but I have to go. They’ll take care of you,” she told Tinker before she let him go. The cat scurried away.

  With a final sigh, she rose with her bag. She snatched her purse from the countertop on the way out the door. Her new life was waiting for her and she wouldn’t hold it up any longer. She loaded the car, waved a last goodbye to the home she grew up in, and then drove away without looking back.

  The forty-five minute drive to downtown Chicago frustrated Emily. She’d spent a quarter of the time trying to get off the interstate and the rest navigating through the city streets. Evening traffic sucked. She couldn’t wait to get away from the big city.

  She parked in the small lot behind the club Troy was performing at later. During her wait on the highway, she’d sent him a text to let him know she was on her way. He worked a variety of odd jobs, but Wednesdays it was Queen’s night and he liked to perform on stage with full makeup and attire. She loved watching him sing and act.

  Standing near the trunk of her car, she dug the black pouch from her computer case. If anyone could sell the diamonds, Troy could. Besides the variety of expertise he had, Troy had connections. The kind of people he knew did things under the table and kept their secrets locked away. Of course, everything had a price. But Emily didn’t care. The jewels belonged to her and it was time to put them to use. She stuffed the pouch in her purse before shutting the trunk.

  The evening breeze gave her legs a slight chill as she walked down the alley, heading toward the side entrance for employees. She wore a long-sleeved black top under her black and red dress. The warm UGG boots kept her feet toasty. April in Chicago was often a wet and cool month, hence the need for shoes taller than sneakers. She kept a blanket in the car to keep her legs cozy while she was driving. After she would say her farewells, she’d consider using the cover for her long drive out of town.

  Keeping her purse tucked close under her arm, she stopped at the entrance. She pressed the call button on the small black box near the door. While she waited, she checked each direction in the alley. As far as she could see, she was alone.

  “Yes?” a man asked from the box. It didn’t sound like Troy’s voice.

  She pushed and held the talk button. “It’s Emily. Troy’s expecting me.”

  Seconds later, there was a loud buzzing sound. Emily tugged on the handle and the door opened. The alarm silenced as she entered the building. She paused to ensure the door closed behind her.

  The first door on the left had a small office sign plastered on the outside. She passed by and continued down a long, dark hall painted red. Even the floor matched the color. She stopped at the last door from the exit, or the first from the club. Although she didn’t have to knock, she did so anyway out of courtesy. That and she preferred not to walk in on a naked man dressing in women’s clothes.

  She tapped her knuckles on the door. “It’s me.”

  “Come in,” Troy yelled.

  She entered the dressing room and found Troy sitting at a vanity. There were eight in a row and three others along the sidewall. The big bulbs above the mirror and down the sides illuminated the space he sat at. A strand of red Christmas lights had been strung above the mirror and hung along the sides. Starring at his reflection, the bald-headed young man applied blue makeup below his thin brows. After he finished, he swiveled in his chair. An instant smile formed on her face as it always did when she saw him.

  “You look like a totally different person,” he said as he rose and reached for her. He wore a shiny blue robe over a spaghetti-strapped camisole and a sheer long skirt nearly reaching his ankles. Underneath his skirt he had on black tights and four-inch heels. “I like the colors.”

  “Thanks.” She slid between his arms and hugged him.

  Troy squeezed her close to his hard body. For a thin man, he had plenty of muscles. With her face near his neck, she smelled his Channel perfume. Although he was a man who liked to dress up as a female, he was dead sexy either way. He could’ve been a male model if he gained twenty pounds, but he preferred to stay lean. He had beautiful, chocolate-colored skin, much like his father who’d originated from Africa. Troy had sculpted cheekbones, a small nose, and dreamy dark eyes, all of which he’d inherited from his mother who came from Thailand. With the right makeup and hair, he acquired a more feminine appearance. Emily didn’t care what he was or what his preferences were. She knew him to be a true loyal and compassionate individual. If he liked someone, he’d do anything for him. If someone pissed him off or he hated someone, then get the fuck away fast.

  “I hope you know it was not your fault,” he said as he backed away from her. He lowered his hands and took hold of hers.

  “Yeah,” she said softly with a light shrug of her shoulder. Her eyes became teary. She swallowed, fighting the grief trying to surface. She hadn’t told him the full story. When he’d called her in the early morning hours, he’d said he’d heard distress in her voice. She’d told him Libby had died and nothing more.

  He tilted his head and eyed her suspiciously. “Darling, tell me you didn’t do anything.”

  “If I tell you what happened, I could implicate you.”

  He waved a finger at her. “Fuck that. You’re going to tell me everything. I want every motherfucking detail, and I sure as hell won’t say a word to anyone.” He put his hands on his hips and widened his eyes. “You of all people should know that.” His words were crisp, clear, and came out fast. He’d always been articulate and hated slang. Cursing was okay, but talking like uneducated trash wasn’t. He also preferred the bold and direct approach.

  She rolled her eyes at his playful, yet encouraging way to get her to talk. Of course, she knew she could trust him with any and all of her secrets. The game worked both ways and they’d been playing it since they were five. The real reason she’d avoided sharing details about what had happened to Libby had been to avoid thinking about it. Each time she did, the guilt and regret hit her harder than a kick in the gut. And she’d had a few before.

  Troy grabbed her arm and tugged her toward the vanities. “Sit. We have a little time before anyone will show up.” He scooted the chair away from the desk next to his.

  Realizing he wouldn’t let her leave without spilling all the beans, she sat and set her purse near her thigh. Having returned to his seat, he snatched the tissue box on his vanity. He put the box on her lap before he crossed his legs.

  “Talk to me,” he said.

  She took a deep breath as he lowered her gaze to the tissue. “Libby and I went to a party last night at a friend’s house.”

  “When are you two not at a party?” he asked sarcastically while batting his long lashes.

  “I had a few drinks like I usually do. Libby snorted a few lines, at least that’s what I’d thought. After her third trip to the restroom, I’d had enough and wanted to leave. She was out of it, totally wasted. But she saw me heading to the door and followed me. She wanted to stay at my place for the night like old times.” Emily’s heart ached as she recalled the scene. “I hadn’t made it out of downtown before she started to have a seizure. I pulled over as quickly as I could, but it was a little after one in the morning. You know how difficult it can be at that time.”

  “Don’t I know,” he said grimly.

  “And I was freaking out because foam was coming out of her mouth. I was screaming at her. I finally managed to turn in an alley, but her convulsions had slowed. Her eyes were…” Emily paused to swallow. “She didn’t look like she was there. I checked her pulse and I couldn’t feel it. I shook her and slapped her a few times too. I tried listening to her heart…” She pressed her eyelids closed briefly to try and hold back the tears.

  Troy scooted closer. He tugged a tissue from the box and handed it to her. “It’s not your fault.”
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  A few tears escaped. She took the tissue and wiped her cheeks. “I held her in my arms. I knew she’d passed on.”

  He placed his hand over her forearm. “She was heading that way. You know this.” His calm tone helped her stay composed. “She went into rehab twice and still managed to get her hands on drugs.”

  “I know.” Her voice quivered. “I didn’t think her problem had gotten so out of control. I should’ve stopped her from going into the bathroom a third time. I could have forced her to leave at midnight like we had agreed before we showed up there.”

  “Should’ve, would’ve, could’ve doesn’t change the inevitable. She had the problem for the last ten years.”

  Emily nodded in agreement while more moisture threatened to trickle from her eyes. She sniffled. “I wasn’t ready to lose her. Not like that.”

  “She was a good friend, but you have me and I’m much better. You’ll get through this. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.”

  A slight grin formed on her face. Although he had a serious expression, she knew he was trying to use humor to cheer her up.

  “Did you call the cops?” he asked.

  “No. God, no.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Then what did you do?”

  “I dumped her body off some country road in Gary.”

  Troy sat up straight. “You what? Tell me I didn’t just hear you say you dumped her body.”

  “I couldn’t take her to the hospital. They have cameras and would’ve seen my car. Plus, there’s always someone at the entrances. I couldn’t take her home. Her parents would have blamed me. Besides, I didn’t want them to know Libby overdosed. It would break their hearts. After her second stay in the detox center, they thought she’d cleaned up.”

  “You dumped her fucking body?” he asked as if he didn’t believe her the first time.

  “Anyone who would’ve seen me with her would think I killed her or gave her the drugs. The only thing I could think to do was to get rid of her.”