Seal of Destiny (Seven Seals Series Book 1)

by Douglass, Traci

  “They’re moving in,” Kagan said, interrupting the insult fest.

  Xander shifted his attention to the new arrivals. Chago did too. Argus seized his opportunity and ran.

  “Grab him!” Xander shouted.

  Argus stopped short, blocked by another imposing wall of muscle. Broad hands clutched his trench coat. This behemoth was clad in solid three-piece black. His reflection showed like a bad TV rerun in the mirrored sunglasses concealing the pud wacker’s eyes. The being spoke with a now familiar flat, mechanical monotone. Tolbert. His backers. Fucking wonderful.

  “You will come with us.”

  Like hell! Argus spun, only to find the Scion closing ranks behind him.

  He clutched his chest. Heat burned from the amulet’s mark. Xander’s clipped tone resonated above the pounding blood in his head. “The demon’s ours, half-breed.”

  A sudden whiff of sulfur preceeded the vortex’s appearance. Argus smiled, his hand pressed tight to the blazing mark. Still got the power.

  Multiple hands grabbed for him, too late. He stepped into the swirling maelstrom, and the time suck overtook the space he’d abandoned. The Scion trio refused to let go, following him into the wormhole. They disappeared into the void.

  He waited a few seconds, to avoid unwanted witnesses, before picturing the crime scene. The next time he opened his eyes, Argus was back on the sunny sidewalk, alone. His assailants had vanished. Whistling a jaunty tune, Argus headed for the bus stop.

  • • •

  Time kaleidoscoped for an eternity before they thudded to a halt at the bottom of a dark pit. Kagan grunted and pushed to his feet before squinting into the dull, orange light. Pain shot behind his eyes, and guilt weighed him down like a ten-pound bocce ball in his chest. Mira! His nose wrinkled against the pungent combined odors of rotten eggs and cow dung. “Where the hell are we?”

  “Hell would be an accurate description.” Xander brushed himself off, his expression dissolving into a horrible grimace. “Smells like it, anyway.”

  “Um, guys.” Chago stood and pointed up. “Might want to check out the ceiling.”

  Kagan scowled, his gaze following the direction indicated by Chago. Thousands of orange glowing dots pulsed with an aura of vindictive hatred. “Oca! What are those?”

  “Eyes.” Xander moved to stand beside him. “This is the minion realm. Let’s go.”

  “You’ve been here before?” Kagan wiped away a glob of slime from his shoulder, determination pushing him forward. Mira’s energy pulsed through him in a constant, ever-increasing wave. He must find her.

  “Long time ago. Didn’t ever want a repeat performance.” Xander ran his hands along the stone wall, stopping periodically to rap with his knuckles. “I remember hidden doors in these passages. We need to find one.”

  Kagan followed his leader, and scoured the rock walls. He didn’t have time for this. He needed to locate Mira. Thoughts of her triggered the familiar tingle, spiking the tension already swamping his nervous system.

  Chago tripped over a rock and fell against the wall. “Goddammit!” His pained curse echoed and the sound of flapping wings increased.

  A long, heavy creak filled the air, and a shaft of light stretched across the floor from the now open doorway behind him. Ominous shadows danced over the walls as the commotion of wings neared.

  “Good work, Chay!” Kagan clapped him on the shoulder and pushed through the door, ignoring his Scion brother’s homicidal glare as he waited for the others to enter.

  “Que te jodan, culo!” Chago rubbed his injured foot. “I think I broke my toe!”

  Xander quirked a brow and pointed toward the approaching chaos. “Better hurry Chay, before all those eyes come after you.”

  Chago grunted, limping after Xander. Kagan rushed to reseal the entrance before the minions landed, his heart infused with newfound resolve. A burst of radiant heat sparked in his chest. Mira was near.

  • • •

  Mira followed her nightmare man into a maze of pitch-black caverns. Round and round and round they wove until she’d lost all sense of direction. At last, a light flickered ahead. They entered a circular room lit by a large fire at the center. Sand lay thick on the floor, and childlike scribbling coated the walls. She wiped sweaty palms on her jeans and skirted the wall. “Is this Hell?”

  “No.” He snapped his fingers, and the flames roared higher to illuminate the entire space. “More of a waiting room.”

  “Purgatory?”

  The man regarded her before moving to the far side of the blaze. He looked worse in person than he ever had in her dreams — more serial killer, less lounge lizard. “I forget how limited you humans are. This is a realm, Mira, a different universe. Like millions of others.”

  He completed the circle and returned to stand in front of her. His black tongue flicked out, and her nightmare exploded into Technicolor life.

  “Do sit down, dearie.” A chair appeared behind her, pushing into the backs of her knees. She sat, her hands gripping the chair’s metal frame and finding it surprisingly cool to the touch.

  He draped himself over a newly materialized seat across from her, sprawling to extend a leg toward her. She retreated. “We have lots to talk about, Mira.”

  Ooze-coated toes trailed up the side of her shin, and Mira bucked. Rooted in place, she could only yank her leg away to keep him from pushing inside the top of her boot. Her stomach churned, and she didn’t attempt to hide her disgust. “Can’t imagine what.”

  “Really?” He stared at her, his expression deadpan perfection before he gave a dismissive wave. “Fine. If you insist on playing games, allow me to introduce myself. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.” He paused, as if waiting for a dramatic drumroll. Silence persisted. He removed a tattered pocket square and waved it with a flourish. “Lucifer, Bringer of Light.”

  Mira blinked. Shit! The devil himself? She could think of a lot of ways to describe the thing before her, but Bringer of Light wasn’t on the list. Still, she refused to be cowed. She’d lived through the rent-a-family abyss. This guy could learn a thing or two from her. “Why am I here?”

  “Dearie, I’ve been searching for you for an eternity.” His feet edged toward her again, and Mira pushed farther away.

  “What’s special about me?” Her mark flared and she fidgeted. Maybe it was better not to know.

  Lucifer formed a bland smile and shifted into a more traditional pose in his chair. “Dearie, I know your dirty little secret. Hell, I invented it.”

  His head cocked to the side, his gaze flicking to her right shoulder. Red flames sparked in his pupils, and she fought a rising tide of panic.

  “Haven’t you ever contemplated why you’ve had such an awful life, Mira? Why you suffered abuse, violation, when others escaped?” He leaned closer, his face inches from hers. This time she didn’t retreat, transfixed like a deer in headlights. “I must say your show at the club last night was most entertaining.” His nasty chuckle grated her already frazzled nerves. “How’s the song go … Fists and stones may break my bones, but whips and chains excite me?”

  She winced at the off-color reminder. His blackened tongue snaked out to scrape sandpaper-rough against her cheek. The Seal’s mark flared. She shoved him. He didn’t budge. “Stay the hell away from me!”

  Her diabolical host appraised her with a roving glance. “I think you’re ready.”

  Mira glared, the lingering odor of his breath worse than a brimstone explosion. “Ready to puke, you mean? Yeah, I’m definitely ready. You seriously need a mint.”

  Lucifer relaxed back into his chair, ignoring her comment. “Of course, I’ll have to discuss it with the Big Gal first. Damned agreement and all.”

  She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. “Look, whatever kinky fun you have envisioned, I assure you I’m not ready for it.�
�

  Lucifer gestured to the space around them, his expression unreadable. He tried a different tactic. “Familiar with this room, Mira?”

  She studied the strange markings. Rust-colored glyphs streaked the walls and adorned the ceiling. Paint? Blood? Something worse? A vague sense of déjà vu rattled, and a shudder passed through her.

  “This is the room of your creation, dearie. Right over there, to be precise.” He smiled, pointing a grizzled finger toward a far corner. “All of you.”

  Mira frowned. All of you? “What do you mean? I’m an only child, an orphan.”

  “There’s seven Seals, dearie. Surely your Scion friends must have told you.” His patronizing smile made her temper sizzle.

  Yes, Kagan had, the first night at his loft. She’d refused to believe him. A point scored for the Scion. Mira changed topics. “Remind again me where here is, please.”

  “You’re smart. Sexy.” Lucifer’s sly grin grew wider. He polished a claw on his jacket. “The place has had a lot of different names through the years. My personal favorite is Gehenna. Great biblical ring, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “But still a part of Hell, right? Must be if you’re here.” She crossed her arms. “Funny, I’m a pain in the ass sometimes, but I didn’t think I was that bad.”

  “Gehenna is more of a lobby, a foyer. Not Hell proper. My dear, sweet Mira.” He glanced toward the door, his grin faltering. “I said you were created in this place. Not of it.”

  “There’s a difference?”

  Lucifer’s devious smile renewed full-force. “Ever notice how some people are born into a family, yet they look nothing like the others? Different actions and interests? Similar principle.” He gave a small shrug. “Oh, and you have a soul.”

  Mira remained tense, waiting for the punch line. None came. “You’re serious?”

  “As a tumor, dearie.”

  Mira slumped in her chair, struggling to process the new information. Since her introduction to this world of preternatural craziness, she’d been forced to accept many things on faith. This was the whopper of them all. If he’d helped create her, was Satan her father? No way. She refused to contemplate the sick implications. Instead, Mira filed the information away under the heading of Never Again. Fuck.

  Male voices echoed louder, approaching through the passage outside. Voices she recognized. Her heart leapt, and Mira’s attention shot to the doorway. Lucifer brushed a piece of non-existent ash from his jacket and awaited the arrival of their impending guests.

  “Do you have any clue where we’re headed? My foot’s killing me.”

  “I could smash your jaw too, amico. Maybe then you’d shut up!”

  “Good to know I can rely on maturity from the two of you in a tough situation.”

  The three Scion entered, and Lucifer glanced toward them with a flat expression. “’Ello, boys.”

  Kagan struck first, hurling his dagger with deadly accuracy. The blade stopped less than an inch from its target. Lucifer lowered his raised hand, and the dagger fell to the sand below. “Tsk, tsk, Scion. No way to greet your gracious host.”

  “Are you all right?” Kagan rushed to Mira’s side.

  She glanced up, unsure what to say. Memories of their previous night flashed through her mind, and heat rose in her cheeks. Mira diverted her gaze to the fire. “I’m fine.”

  “Aw. Isn’t this special?” Lucifer’s tone was loaded with melodrama. “A lovers’ quarrel.”

  Kagan’s focus remained on Mira. “Shut up, stronzo.”

  “Nice way to speak to your old friend, Scion.”

  Xander moved to block Mira and Kagan from Lucifer’s prying eyes. “When have we ever been friends, Devil?”

  Lucifer clutched his chest in mock pain then flipped Xander off. A muffled curse issued from the doorway. He leaned sideways to view the warrior still balanced against the entryway. “Damn, Chago! You get bigger every time I see you.”

  “And you get uglier. Makes us even.” Chago limped over to join the others.

  “I must be going. So much sin, so little time.” Lucifer regarded the warriors for a moment before rising. “Mira, dearie, we’ll talk soon.”

  Xander grabbed Lucifer’s arm. “You won’t be contacting her again.”

  “We’ll see.” He smirked, shaking off Xander’s grip like a bothersome fly. Lucifer glided toward the entrance, his demented whistling amplified by the cave walls. He waved a final time before disappearing.

  At his departure, the vise-solid grip of trepidation squeezing Mira’s chest relented. She took a deep breath and rolled her neck, now aware of Kagan’s hand holding hers. Mira hazarded a glance in his direction and studied his profile — so strong, so masculine, so hers.

  “How the hell do we get out of here?” Kagan yelled, scanning the room for viable exits.

  Their infernal host’s voice rang through the air, his harsh tone infused with a large dollop of taunt. “There’s the rub, eh?”

  • • •

  Zoe strode down the busy sidewalk, her head throbbing. She’d struggled more with her abilities the past few days than any time before. She wasn’t sure what had caused the sudden spike in her psychic talents, but now that Wyck knew, she had to be careful. With her eyes trained on the sidewalk ahead, she raised her shields against the people passing by. The next time Zoe looked up, she was atop a large stone bridge across the Chicago River.

  How long had she been walking? She shivered, peering over the railing into the churning water below. Air. She’d needed air. The excuse had satisfied Wyck when she’d left earlier. Now the need to return to the apartment overwhelmed her. Dread scraped her already raw nerves, and danger buzzed persistently in her senses.

  Zoe pulled her coat tight against a gust of wind, ducked her head, and turned in the direction of Wyck’s place. Two steps later, she ran headlong into a black-suited wall.

  She glanced up into a pair of mirrored sunglasses. Weird. The day was dreary. Cloudy. Snow threatened. She mumbled an apology and sidestepped the massive obstacle now blocking her path. Another man approached from her behind, grabbed her arm and yanked her forward. She struggled, her mind registering the odd fact that her assailants wore no coats despite the sub-zero temperatures. A good detail for the police, if she survived.

  “You’re coming with us.” His crisp, flat voice reminded her of an android.

  The syringe caught her attention too late to stop its descent. The needle plunged into the side of her neck. Its contents stung, her vessels rebelling against the foreign substance. A black sedan swished to the curb beside them just as her legs buckled. She vaguely heard her assailants reassuring the gathering crowd. No need for concern. Too much to drink.

  They dumped her into the back seat and slammed the door. The last shreds of consciousness slipped, and she tried the only route left available. Zoe sent out a psychic SOS, a silent plea to the only other person who could help.

  Chapter 14

  “Are we headed in the right direction?” Mira had had enough of Gehenna for a lifetime.

  “Hell if I know.” Chago huffed from behind her, barely visible in the gloom. “I can hardly see a thing.”

  “At least your damned toe’s healed so we don’t have to listen to more bitching, amico. Ouch!” Kagan stumbled, cursing under his breath. “Why did you kick me?”

  “Stop being an ass!” Mira’s words emerged in a sharp hiss, her desire for escape pushing bitchiness to the next level. “Don’t worry, next time I’ll aim higher.”

  “Settle down, kids,” Xander’s calm reserve was the proverbial eye in the hurricane of their collective whine. “We’ve got to be close. It’s lighter ahead.”

  “I believe your eyesight’s diminished in old age,” Chago grumbled. “There’s no light.”

  “Tell me again why you can’t flash us ou
t of here?” Mira cringed at the level of fatigue and crankiness in her tone. Contrary to popular belief, she didn’t enjoy being nasty, especially to those who helped her, like Xander.

  Xander continued on, unfazed. “Would any of the residents here stay if they could leave whenever they wanted?”

  “Remind me to rip Argus’s head off the next time I see him.” Chago stomped ahead, only to halt when a low-pitched hum sounded.

  “What’s that?” Mira whispered, her attention darting between the desolate hallway behind and the ceiling. The growing hum intensified the flutter of fear beating in her chest. She stepped closer to Kagan, her muscles rigid and fists clenched, prepared to fight.

  Kagan’s warm hand enclosed hers, his thumb massaging her stiff fingers. “Not sure, piccola. Stay close.”

  “You ssshould not be here, Scion,” a voice hissed from the darkness.

  “Why?” Kagan jerked Mira behind him, blocking her with his frame. “Show yourself.”

  A rock pinged off the wall. An orange sea of eyes enclosed them. One particular set advanced forward. The sudden flick of a lighter threw the creature’s face into stark relief as he lit a cigarette. The undoused flame continued to blaze, lighting the cavern. “Xander knowsss.”

  “I sssmell a human!” Another hiss from the crowd. Their collective murmurs grew louder, filling the tight enclosure.

  “The human’sss mine!” the leader rasped to the others, the lighter flickering when the creature turned to face the horde.

  “No. She’s mine.” Kagan inched back, encircling Mira within a fortress of three warriors. Mira crouched in the center of the circle while Kagan pulled out his daggers. Her martial arts training rushed into her mind — the smaller the target, the better her chances of survival. She swallowed the lump of terror in her throat and centered her courage. If she was meant to die, Mira refused to go down without a battle.

  Above her, Chago grinned, firelight reflecting off his lethal machete. “This’ll be fun.”

  “I haven’t killed any minions in eons.” Kagan palmed his weapons and glanced down at her with a reassuring smile. Mira returned the gesture, a new hope sprouting inside her, warm and comforting. Were her emotions true or simply the adrenaline talking?