Her Black Heart (The Dark Amulet Series Book 2)

by A. J. Norris

  “No. Don’t!”

  Aza’zel ripped the cord out of the ceiling. He jumped to the side as plaster, along with a lot of dust, landed on the concrete floor.

  Crackle. Zzzz.

  A bare wire still stuck in the ceiling sparked and white smoke billowed. He threw the fixture to the floor.

  Buzzz. Pop!

  “Fuck.”

  Julia snorted. “Slick!” She bounced up from her squat against a wall and rushed past him. “Come on, let’s go, Pan. Before this whole place goes.”

  The wire continued to arc and buzz. Heat scorched his back and prodded him forward. He followed her to the exit of the building.

  “How do you recognize me?” he asked, jogging to catch up with her. He no longer had horns and red skin, or goat legs.

  “I just can,” she called over her shoulder near the exit. When she reached the door, she stomped her feet. “What are you doing? Are you crazy? Water and electricity don’t—”

  Zzzz. Whoosh!

  Blue flames shot out from the ceiling. Sparks flew. Fire flared behind him with temperatures close to molten rock and he arched his back. Julia pushed the door open and went out of sight. Aza’zel exited before the rusted metal panel had a chance to shut in his face. Outside, the rush of air cooled his skin. It had rained here; the pavement was wet.

  Julia sped down the alley away from the fire, jumping over puddles. He raced after her, reveling in the rainwater. His hand made contact with her shoulder and he whipped her around so she faced him. He regretted the touch instantly. He stared at his palm.

  “What’s wrong? Burn yourself?” she asked.

  “Where are you going?”

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, you started a fire. I’m leaving, unless you wanted to stick around and toast marshmallows.”

  He searched her face for her meaning. “I might. What are marshmallows?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Pan. Oh, my God. Jesus.”

  He sighed. “This is not my name.”

  “If you’ve come looking for the necklace you gave me, it’s gone. Stolen by some freaks.”

  “How’d you know this is why I came to see you?”

  “Well, everyone else wants it, why not you too?” she snapped. Her eyes went round for a second.

  “I was told to help you find it.”

  She scrunched her face up. “By who, and why?”

  “Deus.”

  “Who?” He blinked at her.

  “Deus. The amulet must be destroyed.”

  She mouthed, wow, turned, and began walking. “Okaaay. Let’s try this again.”

  He caught up to her and kept pace alongside her. “Try what?”

  “Ohmygod.”

  “No. Deus.”

  Julia gave her head one quick shake and mumbled to herself, “You are so much dumber than a box of rocks.”

  Aza’zel was insulted by the assumption. True, he was a bit addled; he knew this, but the comparison wasn’t accurate. Rocks didn’t have brains. “Julia, maybe we can help each other.” Okay, now he was only repeating what Deus told him.

  “You want to help me steal the amulet back, sooo…you can destroy it, is that what I’m hearing?”

  “Yes. It’s not what you think it is.”

  “Why are you so interested in having it back all of a sudden?”

  “It’s been poisoned by Abaddon.” At some point, Aza’zel knew he told her too much. The Creator had warned him to be wary of her.

  “Who the hell is Abaddon?”

  “Darkness.”

  “This ‘darkness’ told you to help me find the amulet. Did he give you normal legs too?”

  “No, you’re not following. It was Deus. Darkness is my master.”

  “You have a master? What are you, a slave?”

  Aza’zel sighed. “No. Yes. Well, not anymore. I should say he was my master. Now…I, I dunno.”

  Julia looked both ways and stepped off the curb. “So you’re not a slave?”

  He followed her across the wide lanes of moving traffic to the other side. The driver in the car that whizzed by them honked the horn. Aza’zel had been around the camping humans in the woods enough to learn about cars. It amazed him how many different styles there were. He liked the more compact vehicles. They seemed to go faster.

  “Julia, Deus sent me to help you and he was the one who made me look like this.”

  She stopped on the sidewalk, glanced at him, then resumed walking. “What is a day-yous?”

  “The Creator of All Life.” How did she not know this?

  “Like God?”

  “Yes. This is what Deus means.”

  Julia stared at him for a pregnant moment. “I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you help me. Got any money in those pockets? And where did you get those pants anyway? They’re huge.”

  Money. This was a word he knew. He didn’t know what it looked like exactly but he’d definitely heard the word. He reached into the back pocket of the jeans and pulled out the rectangular leather folded pocket he found in one of the boots. Julia’s eyes widened and she took the wallet out of his hand.

  She opened the it and named off the contents. “ID, useless; photos of the fam, oh, how adorable; Amex, maybe…” She must have found something worthwhile because her eyes lit up like she’d discovered fire. “Well, this is actually something useful.” She grabbed pieces of paper, fanned the folded over bills to reveal the denominations and shoved them into her front pants pocket. Julia extended her hand with the wallet and shook it at him. “Here. Hold this until we find a trash can.”

  His arm froze for a few seconds and his hand twitched at his side.

  She sighed. “Take it.” When he didn’t reach for it right away she dropped the wallet on the ground. “Or not.”

  For the first time, one corner of her mouth perked up into a half-smile. Aza’zel took a deep breath and wrinkled his nose.

  Ahh…strawberries!

  That was her scent. He focused on her mouth while he breathed deeply.

  “What’s that look for?”

  “I’m hungry.” His mouth watered and he licked his lips.

  “Incredible. You want to eat right now? This is what you’re thinking about? Food?” He nodded. “All right, whatever. I guess that’ll give us time to figure out what to do next.” She threw her hands up and spun around. “S’pose you can probably eat, unlike me.”

  He scrunched one side of his face. “What?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Julia

  Julia leaned forward in the booth across from a demon at Nick’s All Night Diner. Thank God, this place was seat yourself; she couldn’t handle an employee staring right through her.

  How many? Oh, just one.

  No thank you to being reminded she’d died earlier. She shivered.

  A waitress came up to their table. Julia eyed the woman through her lashes. Her gray-rooted ponytail sagged down the back of her head. Ketchup and gravy smeared the front of her apron. “What can I get you?” The demon pointed to the pictures on the menu and the server scribbled on her order pad. Her eyes looked up in Julia’s direction. “And for you?”

  Startled, Julia asked, “What…you can see me?”

  The waitress smirked. “Yeah, honey. Rough night?”

  Julia glanced down at her disheveled appearance and shrank into the booth. “It’s just…never mind.” She could use something to eat. With five hundred twenty dollars in cash they could afford to feed themselves. This place was cheap and had decent food for the price. The waitress took her order and returned to the area behind the counter.

  A bus boy eyed the scrapes on her arms while he placed glasses of ice water on the table. The demon’s eyes went round.

  “What’s the matter now?” she asked.

  “What’s in the water?”

  “Ice. Cubes,” she said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. “You know, frozen water.” She remembered he liked cold things, especially water.

  He reached for the glass wi
th a shaky hand. Condensation had built up under the bottom. The cup slid a couple of inches across the Formica. He put his eyes on level with the glass. “It moved.”

  She giggled and shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, so?”

  “So, that’s incredible.” He smiled revealing a chipped tooth.

  “Whatever floats your boat.”

  “I don’t have a boat.” He looked her in the eyes for a second. She never noticed the color of his before. If someone had asked her earlier, she would’ve guessed incorrectly. They were steel blue with perfect lashes and symmetrical eyebrows, masculine even though they appeared as if they’d been shaped. She continued to watch him as he sipped his water. He had a quiet way about him.

  “It’s just a saying,” she said.

  Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

  Her pause brought his eyes up again. Crunch…crunch.

  “What?” he said with a mouthful. “I love this frozen water.”

  Julia laughed. Tonight was full of firsts for her. “People don’t usually chew ice.”

  He shrugged.

  “How did you chip your tooth?” She tapped her fingernails on her teeth.

  His hand went to his mouth. “I-I didn’t know it was broken. I…”

  “Not a clue, huh?”

  The demon shook his head profusely, seeming to contemplate the question for a moment.

  Julia waved off the obviously unanswerable question. “Don’t worry about it. Anyway, what’s your real name? I know it’s not Pan. I figured that one out a long time ago.”

  “Aza’zel.”

  She repeated the name aloud. “Uhzaazuhl. Hmm.”

  The waitress set their food on the table. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Nope, thanks,” Julia replied. “How do you spell that?”

  “I dunno,” he said without looking at her.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Aza’zel

  Stupid goat.

  Aza had never learned to read, spell, or do any math beyond basic addition. His master Abaddon forbade instruction of any kind. He sighed and picked up a crispy stick. He didn’t know what he’d ordered but the pictures looked delicious. Steam rose from his food.

  “It’s called a French fry,” Julia told him. He raised his eyebrows asking for more information. “They’re potatoes.”

  Everything was new to him to the point of frustration. The demon took a bite and spat the stiff golden potato onto his plate. He sucked in a breath and fanned his mouth. “Hothothot.”

  “Yeah, you should probably blow on them.”

  Aza wasn’t sure how this would help but leaned over the platter of food and exhaled. Saliva dripped from his mouth.

  Julia laughed. His cheeks warmed and his hands found his lap.

  “I know who took the amulet,” she said between bites.

  “Who?”

  The girl picked up a bottle and squirted a thick red substance onto her plate. She dipped a French fry into it then ate it. When she saw his crinkled forehead, she said, “Here, try some.” She tried to put some on his plate. He covered the fries with his hands. “What’s the matter?”

  Aza shook his head. Her hand pushed his out of the way, brushing her skin against his.

  “Don’t touch me!” he hissed and jerked his arms back. His body seized.

  Julia put her palms up in surrender. “Okay, jeez. Chill.”

  He growled and tore into his food. Aza crammed chunks of a white meat covered with a crust into his mouth. The potato sticks made their way to his stomach in barely chewed pieces. He grabbed her glass of water and tipped it back. The liquid poured down the back of his throat and splashed his beard and the front of his shirt.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “What?” Food fell out his mouth as he spoke.

  She sneered. “You’re disgusting. This is a mistake, us working together.”

  No. He couldn’t be banished from Earth. Deus hadn’t exactly told him that, but Aza wasn’t going to take any chances. The Creator told him to help find and destroy Abaddon’s sigil and he wouldn’t fail.

  He face palmed and inhaled deeply a few times. “Sorry. You said you know who stole the amulet?”

  “Yeah, his name’s Bryant. He’s a real fucktard. Are you done?”

  “Done with what?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Are you finished eating?”

  He scooted out of the booth. She looked up at him. “Okay, guess you are,” she muttered under her breath. “Wait for me outside for a minute.”

  Aza paced along the outer wall of the restaurant. When he started to wonder if she’d ditched him, she bolted though the door.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here!” she yelled, pumping her arms while she ran. He chased her up the street. They rounded the corner of the block.

  “Slow down, Julia,” he panted.

  “Can’t. Didn’t pay,” she snapped, her focus remaining directly ahead.

  “I thought you were supposed to pay for our food.”

  “Yeah, well…I…I didn’t,” she said between gasps.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Bryant

  Bryant rotated in his shower stall fully clothed. Water beat down on his head. Splashes of blood spattered on the tile beneath his feet. He peeled his black t-shirt off and wrung it out, then threw the shirt on the floor outside the stall where it landed with a smack. His jeans were the next to come off. Halfway down, they stuck to his legs. He tugged and wound up turning them inside out to get them completely off.

  He pushed the pinkish water toward the drain with his foot and let it swirl until all the blood disappeared. Bryant didn’t think about the girl whose life he’d ended earlier. The murder itself, while it was happening, played out like a movie where the audience sees the act from the killer’s point of view, through the character eyes. It may seem odd, but he couldn’t recall how the knife felt in his hand as the blade sliced through Julia’s throat. He did remember how deep he’d made the slash. She wouldn’t have lived long. For some inexplicable reason, Bryant didn’t like to torture his victims. Delving into his past may explain how he became a murder-for-hire for Maurice, but that nightmare didn’t need to be relived.

  Bryant turned the water off and beat the single handle valve faucet to stop the drip. One day he’d remember to bug his roommate, Chad, about calling the landlord about it, not that the cheap fucker would fix anything.

  Leaning over the pedestal sink, he gaped at his features in the mirror. His gaunt face made his cheekbones stick out. He pulled down one of his lower lids. His eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed his roommate’s brush off the toilet tank lid and dragged it through his hair, the bristles snagging on the ends. Strands of hair snapped as he broke through the snarls.

  Jangling keys hit the table by the front door.

  Bryant relaxed when he heard Chad’s familiar sigh. He finished in the bathroom, including using his roommate’s deodorant and toothbrush before wrapping a towel around his waist. He gathered his soaked clothes and tossed them onto his bedroom floor next to a pile of clean clothes he hadn’t bothered to put away, not that he ever took the time. After getting dressed, he went into the living room.

  Chad was hunched over the kitchen table and looked at Bryant with a wrinkled forehead for a second. “Hey.”

  Bryant jerked his chin as a way of greeting. He suspected Chad only tolerated his presence, not that he cared. “What’re you doing? That’s mine!” he barked. Chad had the amulet he’d carelessly left in the kitchen laid out on the table, his eyes wide as he studied the markings. The guy collected old artifacts on the side and would likely steal the thing for the “greater good of all,” and sell it to a museum for posterity.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yep.” Bryant turned his head so his roommate wouldn’t see his sneer. “Put it down, all right?”

  And back off.

  Fucking Chad and his high ideals, although he wasn’t above stealing when it came down to it, and Bryant knew this.

  “I thi
nk this is Druidic.”

  In other words, a museum would pay money to own the pendant. “You don’t know that,” Bryant snapped and snatched the necklace out of Chad’s fingers.

  Chad hands retreated up out of the way. “Hey, take it easy. That piece needs to be on display in a—”

  Bryant narrowed his eyes. “It does not. You don’t even know what it is.”

  “Then what is it? Where did you get it?”

  He balled the leather cord and amulet in his fist. “That’s none of your goddamn business!”

  Chad’s eyes darted around. “Okay, okay. Maybe we could work out a deal where we both profit.”

  “I don’t think so.” Bryant stuffed the amulet into his jeans pocket.

  “Oh, I gotcha. You already made a deal.” He paused for a moment. “With who?”

  “Christ, Chad. Will you leave it alone? You’re not getting a cut of this.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Bryant rolled up the storage locker bay door. The space was cluttered with dusty furniture. A large oak dresser sat in the corner near the front. He removed the amulet from his pocket and placed the necklace inside the top drawer, nestled between her grandmother’s sweaters. The “her” was an old girlfriend who had inherited the antiques. Tiffany wouldn’t mind him using the storage facility, and if anyone ever found her, they could ask her. He continued to pay the rent.

  Footsteps echoed around the corner of the corridor, advancing toward him. He held his breath and listened until they stopped. A door squeaked and trundled upward. In the other direction, a gate slammed down. He blew his breath out. It was damn noisy in this bitch. Bryant pulled the door down and set the padlock. He looked to his left and right. The exit was toward the left, and on his right, a shadow of a figure painted the concrete. Whoever made the shadow was hiding on the other side of the wall. Bryant waited for the person to leave. The asshole stayed where they were.