by Ward, H. M.
Eric cut him off, “Because of her.” He glared at me.
But Lorren rose and stood in front of him, “No. You are alive because of her. You are a Valefar, if you can call it that, because of the cost of the stone. You were put into a perpetual state of change where you can’t control the things around you. You cannot save her. You cannot save anything. You merely survive. That is your curse. That was your cost.” Lorren tilted his head toward me and said, “I have no idea what her cost will be.”
Eric looked crestfallen. His gaze shifted from Lorren to the floor as he pushed his hands out of his hair. “Nothing’s as it seems, is it?” Lorren shook his head. Eric looked up, “So the other half of the stone is… ”
“Gone,” I said. “It’s gone. You were the last person to have it. That’s why you had all those notes, Eric. That’s why you knew everything. Your previous lives were forgotten every time your mortality ended. You were reborn with a new life—up until your last birth. You wrote everything of importance down so you wouldn’t forget. How you found that book over the centuries is beyond me, but that’s what you did. That’s why you knew what Satan’s Stone was in the first place—you were the last person to use it.” I stood pacing, uncertain what to do next.
Eric spoke, “There’s no other option then, is there?” I looked over at him. “I have to remember where I put the other half of the stone.”
“The memories are gone, Eric.” I turned to look back at Lorren. Something he said had just sank into my spinning brain, “What do you mean, he’s a Valefar, if you can call him that?”
Lorren looked up at me. “Eric’s not a Valefar. He’s been demon kissed, and his soul was stripped away, but he’s not under Kreturus’ control. The rest of the Valefar are. Eric is not. He’s under your control, Ivy.”
I nearly choked as a laugh ripped out of my stomach. Both boys looked at me like I was nuts. “Eric’s not under anyone’s control.” Lorren started to reply, but I cut him off, “Is Eric’s soul here? Is it in the Pool of Lost Souls?”
Lorren nodded, “It should be. If you truly drank his soul, and I can sense that you did,” Lorren did not hide his revulsion, “then it’s in the Pool.”
Eric rose, and took my hand in his. His voice was urgent, “I know what you’re thinking.” He gazed into my eyes. The scent of his blood hit me hard, and I pulled away. Eric turned toward Lorren, “No one can sense us here, within the Lorren, can they?”
Lorren shook his head, “No. The dead mask the living. This is the only place where they won’t look for you. It’s the only place you can hide, but eventually, I would expect Kreturus to figure it out.
“The Guardian is dead. All the other points that held the Underworld under the world have been breached. Demons walk in the sun. The sky bleeds, the clouds cry icy drops of blood. It only continues to worsen, unless you kill him, Ivy.” Lorren’s eyes met mine. He doubted me, I could see it on his face.
My jaw locked. I could blame him forever, but it wouldn’t stop what was happening. It was too late to save the past. Salvaging what was left was the best we could hope for. “Everything would have happened to this point anyway, right?” I asked looking at both of them.
They nodded. Eric spoke, “This was the prophecy. This was the part that was not preventable.”
“Then,” I replied, “the rest is still up for grabs, and I’m not going down without a fight. The spell fazed Collin, which means my bargain with Locoicia is broken. If it was my failure, I’d be dead or locked in her throne room. But Im not. I’m standing here staring at you.” Lorren glanced at Eric. They both seemed nervous. “I need to find the stone and end this. I’m not listening to any more fucking demons. Or angels.” I glared at Lorren. “I’m ending this. I don’t care what the cost of the stone is—I’m going to find it, and I’m going to use it. And next time I see Collin, this will end.”
The 13th Prophecy
Demon Kissed #5
Coming
March 6, 2012
VALEFAR
Vol. 1
By H.M. Ward
CHAPTER ONE
369 days before Ivy is attacked on her 17th birthday.
“Legend states that there were thirteen prophecies that foretold the destruction of the Earth, the annihilation of the Martis and Valefar, and the obliteration of the demon Kreturus…” Jake paused as he always did when he spoke of this with Collin. It didn’t matter how many times they’d talked about it, Collin’s response was always the same.
Collin turned away from his friend with his arms folded. His dark shirt clung to his chest defining the muscles beneath. He looked side to side; making sure no one was listening. They were backstage in the school’s theater. Long black drapes hung floor to ceiling in front of them and a cement wall was directly behind them.
Collin didn’t like Jake speaking of this here, now, so he cut him off in a hushed whisper, “And that prophecy infers my death. I know, Jake.”
Collin knew the prophecy, and he knew more about it than Jake did. However, he kept those comments to himself. The younger Valefar had proved to be trustworthy over time. Well, as much as a Valefar could be trusted. Turning to Jake he saw the worry pinched on his face and the tension that lined his arms—tension that wasn’t normally present in this Valefar.
Collin’s eyes turned to slits as he stepped toward his friend slowly, “What do you know.” It was a command, not a question.
Jake was Collin’s second in command. The hierarchy of the Valefar was precarious at best, and more accurately described as a savage blood bath. No other Valefar had ever been able to hold power as long as Collin had, and despite Jake’s age, he knew it. Befriending Collin ensured his longevity. It had occurred to him to keep this information to himself, because if Collin was destroyed, then Jake could take his place. The thought amused Jake. He batted the idea around in his mind, teasing out scenarios that could lead to Jake stealing Collin’s throne. Jake watched the man in front of him. Collin’s power was unnatural and surpassed most by far. It would be suicide to challenge him. No, if there was to be a change in Valefar power this side of Hell, it would be caused by someone other than Jake.
Shifting his feet, Jake pushed the thoughts aside, feeling Collin’s hard gaze on his face. When he looked at his master, Collin was less than an inch from him. Clearing his throat, Jake looked directly into Collin’s face and reported what he’d learned. “The Martis suspect movement.”
Collin arched an eyebrow, refolded his arms, and leaned against the stone wall. They were at the high school where Collin spent much of his time in the auditorium. Acting was something Valefar excelled in. It allowed them a tentative escape from their hellish lives. Jake also dabbled with acting, and knew how dangerous it was to approach Collin here, but the information was too important to waste time. Jake had come looking for him when he realized what was happening.
Collin smiled to himself, as if he couldn’t believe it. “And…”
Jake leaned closer, his voice not audible to the human ear, “And it’s her—the one who will destroy you and cause the prophecies to fulfill.” He smiled at Collin. “She’s within reach. The Martis rooted her out. I doubt she even knows what she is yet.”
The two separated as footfalls echoed toward them, one step at a time, from the other side of the dark curtain. Collin nodded at Jake and said, “We’ll discuss this in detail later.” Jake nodded and turned away before he could be seen, and effonated. Collin watched as Jake’s form went hazy. It looked like his entire body had heat billowing off of it, like blacktop in the summer sun before he completely disappeared.
Collin leaned against the wall, lost in thought with a soft smile lining his lips. He’d spent the past centuries aware of the prophecy and the girl who would condemn him to death, but until now, he’d never had any idea that he could find her. This single girl would be responsible for the greatest disasters known to her kind, and his. She not only brought about his death, and the annihilation of two races of immortals, but she would
also be the sole being responsible for creating the apocalypse. Earth was a stepping stone between Hell and Heaven. She would be the cause of another angel demon war—a war he didn’t want to fight. Wars like that had no winners. Collin’s fingers rubbed against his chin. As he was lost in thought the footfalls drew nearer and one of the stage-crew girls rounded the corner.
Collin pushed himself off the wall, and walked past her. The perky girl was clad in pink from head to toe. She smiled at him, opening her mouth to engage him in a conversation in which he had little interest. Not stopping to indulge her, Collin nodded as he passed and said, “Jenna Marie.”
CHAPTER TWO
Thoughts of the prophecies consumed Collin. After fumbling his lines beyond belief, he excused himself from rehearsal and walked backstage. Pulling open the metal door that lead to the basement, he walked through and bounced down the steps into the darkness. He could have gone home, but he wanted a chance to think about this on his own. This school was one place where he could be at ease. A new Valefar wouldn’t suddenly show up and attack him. Valefar were slow and methodical, certain to thoroughly destroy their victims in every way possible.
Collin rounded the corner at the bottom of the landing. He moved through the darkness with ease and threw his body onto a well-worn couch. Threading his fingers behind his head, he laid there, staring into space thinking about what would happen if he killed the Prophecy One. It couldn’t be that easy. There had to be repercussions to destroying her. Would the prophecy just stop? Collin wasn’t certain. He’d never seen the prophecies himself. He’d only heard stories of them. The Martis were diligently searching for the girl in the first prophecy painting in the series. And Collin was dying to wrap his fingers around it. Not only would the painting show the face of his assassin, but it would also reveal the ancient words that had been forgotten—words he needed to break his bargain with Kreturus. Collin’s chest swelled, and his heart raced at the thought.
No one knew where Collin’s power came from. The other Valefar assumed he took the throne to the Upperworld the same way any other Valefar had—through blood and deception. Only the most powerful of Valefar survived. Being ruthless was expected, but Collin’s power didn’t come from centuries of battles. It came from a bargain—a bargain that cost him more than he realized. Collin pressed his eyes closed, trying to force back the memory. There were few things that truly terrified him, and this was one of them. Try as he might, it was no use. Thinking of the prophecies conjured the memory.
It washed over him in a second and chilled him to the bone. Collin could see himself, ages ago, standing in front of the most powerful demon alive. Kreturus had been trapped in a cave in the Underworld. No one was crazy enough to go looking for him, but Collin did. He moved through the Underworld, killing everything in his path, hell-bent on finding the demon who owned him—and all the other Valefar—so that he could demand his freedom. Collin laughed at the thought. His plan was flawed from the start. There is no such thing as a compromising, level-headed demon. But back then, Collin didn’t care. He didn’t want the life that had been thrust upon him. He hated the Valefar, though he was one. They were responsible for the pain that he remembered with vivid intensity. He saw it burned onto the back of his eyes every time he blinked - his wife; his child; both ashen faced and laid lifeless on the pyre with flames flickering high into the night sky. The Valefar were to blame. Determination made him reckless, and so Collin found the demon.
The demon’s presence was terrifying. He flowed like black ink into every crevice of the cave. The angels contained him in that prison, but the ancient demon shifted his form as needed to make his imprisonment tolerable—until he could find a way to escape. Collin’s tenacity didn’t falter when the demon’s presence wrapped around him like a cloak made of liquid ice. Collin didn’t back away, or run screaming as the demon’s vapors filled his lungs, as he breathed. Any other man would have cried out in terror. Collin did not. Rage consumed him. The demon’s touches only made Collin more irate.
Collin roared, “Return my soul to me! Lift the Valefar curse and let me go free.” He looked around in the darkness, expecting to be killed instantly for demanding anything.
But, a low rumble filled the room as Kreturus laughed at him, “You can take all the souls you want.”
“No, I can’t. I can’t take the one soul I need,” Collin growled. His jaw locked tight as his hands shook in the darkness clenched into tight fists. There was no way to force the demon to do anything. Collin would have to convince him. He would have to persuade Kreturus into giving him what he wanted. But, Collin had nothing to barter. Kreturus already had his soul.
As if the ancient demon could read his thoughts, the inky blackness seemed to purr. “There is one thing… One thing that I would bargain for.”
Shaking, Collin shot upright, and hung his legs over the side of the couch and ended the memory. His heart raced in his chest, beating wildly as he repressed the recollection to the deepest depths of his mind. Leaning forward, he clutched his head between his hands trying to forget. He had given too much. It was a mistake. A mistake that cost him more than he’d already lost.
Startled by the creak of the steps above him, Collin slowly stood and moved through the darkened room trying to see through the metal stairs. The stage lights illuminated the person standing in the doorway until the door clicked shut and darkness cloaked the person. Collin couldn’t see who was on the landing above, but heard the creak of each step as the person came closer and closer.
Thinking it must have been an enemy, Collin’s body tensed. He moved quickly and pressed himself between two flats that stretched high above him that were leaning, angled against the wall. Moving slowly, he crept behind the canvases. The person moved down the stairs and stopped on the last step, and sat. Collin carefully stepped over props and moved silently through the room. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of brimstone. Pressing his finger to the side of the sharp stone, he drew blood and rubbed it against the rock. Instantly, the stone became fluid and changed shape in his hand elongating into a blade, while the section of stone under Collin’s grip swelled into a hilt. His grip tightened around the dagger as the stone became hard in his hand. Crouching close to the floor, he approached the staircase from the back. The person sitting there failed to move. They sat utterly motionless breathing in sharp breaths that were too loud for a Valefar, or for someone hunting him. When Collin slid up behind the staircase, he hesitated. Holding his weapon ready to strike, a familiar scent hit his heightened sense of smell. The grip of the blade in his hand loosened as he realized who it was. Collin ran his finger along the blade slicing open his skin. When the blood sank into the black metal, it melted back into a small stone. By the time Collin pressed it into his pocket, his finger had already healed.
He stared at her back for a moment, certain of her identity, and backed away from her. Her lungs expanded filling her body with air as she shook. Collin could hear her sniffle as he moved away, back toward the couch. Pushing his hair out of his face, he looked at her in the darkness one last time. He wished she’d talk to him and tell him what was bothering her enough to sit and cry in the shadows, but he knew she wouldn’t.
So, he retreated to the couch and silently sprawled out again. When he reached his hand for the switch behind the couch, he flipped on the lights. With a smile in his voice he said, “Only creepy people sit in the basement in the dark, Ivy.”
~VALEFAR VOL. 1 IS ON SALE NOW~
If you love the DEMON KISSED series and can’t wait for more, visit with over 43,000 fans on facebook:
Facebook.com/DemonKissed
Or the official website:
DemonKissed.com
OTHER BOOKS BY
H.M. WARD
DEMON KISSED
CURSED
TORN
SATAN’S STONE
THE 13th PROPHECY
Coming March 2012
VALEFAR Vol. 1
BANE
V
ampire Apocalypse #1
Spring 2012
